Blurred Secrets by Bonnie Filanda Weller

Author:Bonnie Filanda Weller [Weller, Bonnie Filanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nextone Inc
Published: 2024-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Ten:

MILLIONAIRE

While driving home from the steak house, I stopped at a 7-Eleven to get gas. I’d had one customer that night, and he left me a whopping ten dollars. I put eight in my car for gas and bought an iced tea. As I returned to my car, I noticed one of my tires was flat. I sat on the curb, staring at the flat, not knowing what to do. I had no money saved, and Leslie wanted me to get my own place. I could tell her patience was running thin with me. I didn’t want to call my mom, and I knew I’d burned my bridge with Evan. A tall stranger approached me and asked if I needed any help. He was tall and handsome and very nice and friendly. I just pointed at my tire. He said he had a great mechanic he could call and told me the rest of my tires were bald. I told him I had no money. He went into the 7-Eleven and told me he’d called his mechanic and he was on his way. He said he would pay for my tire. He asked me for my number and I gave it to him. He called me in an hour. That's how I met my future boyfriend, Paul.

Paul was a millionaire and wined and dined me. I couldn’t help but love him. I knew he loved me too. The strangest thing was I never had butterflies in my stomach like I had with Atlas. I would settle for my life with Paul. It was easy.

Within a month, I was in my own apartment on Desert Inn, thanks to Paul. My car was serviced and had four new tires, thanks to Paul. He bought me cigarettes and beer weekly. I quit the steak house and saw him every night.

My parents flew out to visit, and they loved Paul. Paul was into old cars. He had several, one being a 1967 Cadillac convertible. It was white with a white interior, and it was in mint condition. They even paid him to use it for a music video. I loved that car, so Paul gave it to me. He had an MG TD and it was on display at the Imperial Palace car show. Paul took my parents and me to the show and then to dinner at Liberace's, a restaurant named after the legendary pianist. The restaurant was fancy and expensive. I could tell my dad was uncomfortable. Every time he took a sip of water, a waiter immediately filled his glass. Every time he flicked his cigarette, the ashtray was emptied. The menu had no prices in it. Our meal was amazing, but my dad wasn’t thrilled that Paul paid. Halfway through dinner, my dad took another sip of water. Before the lurking waiter could refill it, my dad put his hands over his glass and blurted, “What do you think I am, a goddamn camel?” Paul and I laughed while my mom turned bloodred.

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