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Authors: Jackie Pilossoph

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BOOK: Jackpot!
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There were seven different cameras shooting her and twenty microphones in her face. Next to her was a huge, cardboard check with the amount of her winnings, “$17,500,000,” boldly printed on it.

“What are the odds that the lottery girl’s mother would actually win the lottery?” asked a reporter from WBBM. His tone was accusatory and at that moment, I noticed several other reporters waiting for my answer.

“Are you interviewing me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“The odds are pretty high,” I said with a nervous giggle.

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Maybe you should have an attorney next to you while you answer questions, Jamie,” said the traffic guy from the station.

“That’s okay,” I answered him. Then I turned to the reporter and responded, “No. I didn’t rig anything if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Right then, my producer, Richard stepped up to save me. “Actually, there’s an investigation going on right now to make sure everything was done fairly. That being said, we’re not concerned and we don’t suspect any foul play by Jamie or any other employee at WGB. This was a total, utter fluke, folks.”

The reporter was satisfied with that answer and the second he looked away I mouthed “thank you” to Richard.

“How are you feeling right now?” a reporter from
Craign’s
asked my mother. It was the first question that began the live broadcast of the press conference, where the world got to see a sweet, older widow react to her new millions.

Frankie gave her a huge smile and said loudly, “Loaded!”

The crowd erupted with a laugh, and I realized the drama queen was truly in her element.

“Are you planning on taking the monthly payments or will you receive the winnings in a lump sum?” asked Kim Vatis from WMAQ.

Before Frankie could answer, a nerdy Jewish guy with glasses spoke up. “She’ll be taking the lump sum benefit,” he answered. Alan was the lawyer my mother had hired that morning. He was one of her friends’ sons. The name actually sounded vaguely familiar when she told me about him, and then I realized Ma had set me up with him years earlier.

Sylvia Perez from WLS asked the question everyone was waiting for. “What are you planning on doing with the money?”

Following Sylvia’s question came an extremely lengthy pause. In fact, it was so drawn out that the crowd seemed to be on the edge of their seats waiting for her answer.

Finally, she spoke. “Actually…” Ma began. The way she was dragging it out was painful. “I plan on re-decorating my condo, and the rest…” The anxiety in the room was so high it was almost funny. What she announced next, however, was very much not funny. “The rest will be given to my grandchildren.”

Some of the reporters started to ask follow up questions, but a couple of them who knew me turned around to see my reaction. Anna Davlantes from Fox, who I knew pretty well mouthed, “Are you pregnant?”

When I tried to answer, I couldn’t speak. My mouth was hanging wide open.

Chapter 6

 

Whenever I get really stressed out, I walk. And tonight, after meeting with one of my students, Angela Walker, a junior who had just informed me she was pregnant and thinking of dropping out of high-school, my level of anxiety and worry was maxed out. Angela, who was a smart, talented and beautiful girl, and who I secretly had hopes would end up being the next Oprah, was thinking of trading in a potentially extremely productive life for the life of a single mother without a high-school degree. The thought was depressing beyond belief.

So, I’d tried to convince her she could still have the baby and finish school. Apparently, her parents thought it was a better idea for her to stay home and get a job somewhere. I wanted to kill those people! I didn’t want to judge them, but it was frustrating as hell because it was such a bad idea.

Because of my meeting with Angela, I’d missed my mother’s press conference. Yes, I could have rescheduled it, but I didn’t want to do that because Angela needed some guidance from her teacher. Plus, I figured I could DVR the press conference and watch it later.

Throughout the day, dozens of friends texted and left messages asking me if I’d knocked up a girl and if I was going to have a kid.

“What are you talking about?” I answered one of my buddies in a text message. He then informed me about the little announcement my mother had made on T.V.

So, while I waited to hear back and get an explanation from the new multi-millionaire, I decided to clear my head with a walk down Armitage Avenue, a quaint tree-lined street with little shops, boutiques, neighborhood pubs and restaurants. I lived just off the beaten path of Armitage on a quiet side street in the garden apartment, (i.e. the basement) of an extremely old brownstone. My street and the brownstone were beautiful and had lots of character. However, my apartment was the size of a shoe box. I loved it, though. It was close to a lot of night time hot spots. Plus, it was pretty cheap. My job barely paid the bills, and even with my acting gigs on the side, I struggled financially, living paycheck to paycheck. But that was okay. I was happy teaching. I was happier acting, though, and someday, hopefully, I’d get a break and land a decent role.

I walked by Ranalli’s, an Italian restaurant that serves over 100 different kinds of beer. I thought about going in, but realized today was Saturday and Rachel was working. I had no desire to deal with Rachel tonight. We had hooked up several months back when I went in for a pizza one night. Rachel was my waitress. We flirted with each other all night, and when she got off work I took her home and spent the night at her place. It had been a great time. I liked Rachel. But I never got around to calling her.

So Rachel called me. She had gotten my last name and phone number off of my credit card receipt and left two messages on my voice mail that week. That weekend, I had a great idea. I thought I’d return Rachel’s phone calls in person with a surprise visit. So I stopped into Ranalli’s, prepared to get a warm reception from her. But instead of a nice hello and a smile, she threw a beer in my face.

Rachel went off on me, screaming and yelling, “How dare you sleep with me and then not call me!” A couple of the waiters had to hold her back because she began to get physical. She actually threw a few punches, but luckily for me she missed.

So that was that. ‘Such a shame,’ I thought, ‘good pizza.’

I passed by a couple more storefronts, walking at a leisurely pace on this gorgeous evening, casually looking in the windows of each place. Lucky Brand was having a sale on men’s jeans. Good to know. Sushi on Armitage was now offering half-price rolls on Tuesday nights. Not bad. It was the next window, though, that would perhaps change my life forever.

A new store was opening soon, the sign not even up yet. A large poster taped onto the window read, “Coming soon…YOU SEXY THING YOU-sexy lingerie for sexy women. And by the way… all women are sexy.” I took a closer look inside the shop, peeking through the window just below the sign. What I saw made my heart stop. A gorgeous woman was dressing a mannequin. She was placing a pink lace bra and panties on the wooden model. The girl wore just a black tank top and jeans, and she was barefoot. I couldn’t quite see her face, but I was somewhat sure she was a knockout. ‘You sexy thing you!’ I thought.

All of a sudden, I heard Sean Kingston’s “Fire Burning” playing in the background. And then I saw a sight I’ll never, ever forget for the rest of my life. The girl stopped working, and she started dancing. Actually, she began doing the exact dance Sean Kingston does in his video of this song. It was almost as if she’d watched the video several times and memorized the choreography. That’s how down pat she had it. And she was great!

I was chuckling and laughing, fully entertained by what I was witnessing. I turned around to see if anyone else was watching her. It was amazing to me that no one else noticed what was going on. I turned back around to see more.

As she moved to the music, You Sexy Thing You looked like she was having a blast. I was dying to see her face. I still couldn’t, though. Was it possible to fall in love in 15 seconds? Finally, she moved closer to the front of the store and that’s when I got a full view. Now my heart was really pounding! The girl was the same girl from Jennifer’s building. She was the same girl with the same gorgeous jet black hair, the same full lips, and the same curvy, sexy body.

I watched her for a couple more minutes, knowing the look on my face was that of a lovesick puppy dog. Then, You Sexy Thing You happened to catch a glimpse of me out the window. She froze for a second and then quickly ran out of sight. Next, I heard the music stop. I now knew what I had to do. I wasn’t letting this girl get away from me a second time. So I went to the door and knocked.

“Uh, we’re closed!” I heard her shout.

“Yeah, I know but…”

“We open next Saturday. Ten o’clock!”

I thought about what to say next. “Listen, can you just open the door for two seconds? I know you. I’m the guy from the other night…in the lobby of your building. Remember?”

The girl finally came to the door and opened it, just a crack. “How can I help you?”

It was hard not to laugh. “Is this your store?”

“Yeah,” she said trying to be cool.

“Wow, that’s awesome. Congratulations!”

The girl managed a smile. “Thanks. How can I help you?” she repeated.

“Well, I was wondering, would you like to go have a drink with me? Or coffee?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” I asked her.

She opened the door a bit wider. “Um…cause I don’t know you? Thanks, anyhow.”

She started to shut the door, but I put my hand up to stop it. I was desperate now. I wanted to get to know this girl. I would not let her get away a second time. Things with Jennifer were done. I hadn’t heard from her. She hadn’t answered my apologetic texts (even though I didn’t really have anything to apologize for) so we were done. And I had every right to go after this girl.

“Wait a second. Will you just tell me your name?”

“Courtney.”

“I love that name,” I said. ‘Not Jewish,’ I thought. I didn’t care, though. Ma would care, but I didn’t care. I never cared about that. But if I didn’t care, why every time I met a girl did I wonder about her religion?

“Thanks,” she said with a kind smile, “But I really have to go.”

As she started to close the door again, I felt even more desperate. I had to do something. So I blurted out, “How about I help you?”

“Help me?”

“Yeah. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stay here and help you unpack and clean and get your store ready, and I won’t mention anything to anyone about what I saw. You know…Sean Kingston…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she struggled, “I was just…”

“You don’t have to explain. I enjoyed it,” I said with a wide grin, “But I did snap some photos of you on my phone, and if you don’t let me in, I might have to go public with them. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Courtney looked amused and I knew I was winning.

“Look,” I continued, “it’s obvious you need some help here. I’m a guy. I can lift heavy boxes, hang things… I’ll even clean the john.”

When I saw the look on Courtney’s face, I knew I’d just succeeded in my quest to get into her life. “Deal,” she said matter-of-factly. She started to open the door wider but paused for a second. “What’s your name?”

“Danny,” I said with a smile. Then I pushed the door open and walked in past her.

“The bathroom is straight back and to the right, and the cleaning stuff is already in there.”

I walked back to the bathroom, whistling and wondering how I could be so damn happy about becoming a restroom attendant.

The two of us worked and worked, and a few hours later the future site of “You Sexy Thing You” looked amazing. But the two people who worked so hard fixing it up looked like they had been in a gang fight. Both Courtney and I were hot, sweaty, smelly and tired. We had been moving things around, unpacking, dusting, cleaning, vacuuming and arranging displays. The dozens of merchandise-filled boxes that were sitting all over the store were now empty and stacked up against a wall, their contents now hanging on racks throughout the shop. The place was completely transformed and looked almost ready to do business.

BOOK: Jackpot!
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