Page 84 of Minted
“She did.”
He nods. “So if they just do ten more commercials like that, you’ve gotten your money back.”
“But what about taxes?” I ask. “And their food and clothing is expensive. Not to mention the rent on an apartment, cars for them to drive, phones to use, etcetera. And there’s no guarantee they’ll get more commercials. Up until now, it’s just been a few hundred here and there for doing little videos on Instagram.”
Mr. Creecher’s smile is predatory. “Well, you’ll just have to decide if you think they’re worth the investment, I suppose. If they ain’t, I’m willing to risk it myself.”
That thought makes my blood run cold.
“I assume you have a checking account,” I say.
“You wanna make monthly payments?” He nods slowly. “Well, we could maybe—”
“No,” I say. “But I won’t pay you to sign the papers, as I mentioned.”
“Why not?” he asks. “If I sign these, you and that lady can adopt them. That’s what Alice said.”
“Whether Barbara adopts them or not is her business,” I say. “I’m just the boyfriend, but what I will pay you to do is apologize.”
“Apologize. . .” He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
I whip out my phone. “Tell me you have internet banking.”
Mr. Creecher nods. “I do. Course.”
“Well, after you swear to me that you’re going to apologize to those girls, you’re going to sign these papers in front of a notary public. My office manager will be here momentarily. You’re going to testify to her that you’re not being paid to do it. Do you understand me?”
Mr. Creecher frowns.
“And then, when she leaves, and the papers are in her care, you’re going to call on my phone and apologize to those girls for not being here when you heard their mother was sick. You’re going to tell them you’re sorry that you haven’t been in their life, and you’re going to promise that you won’t drag them down any more.”
“Now, wait just a second,” he says. “I woulda come if I coulda, but I had a lot going on in my life, and there was no way—”
“And then as soon as you’ve done that,” I say, “I will transfer two hundred thousand dollars into your account via my phone wire transfer app here. See?” I show him my account balance so he knows I can, and then I show him the transfer option. “And then, after that, you and I will never have another interaction. Are we clear?”
Our steaks arrive then, but by the time we’ve finished eating them, my office manager’s arrived, and Mr. Creecher does exactly as I told him to do. He signs the forms, and he insists, while my brilliant office manager video tapes him, that he wasn’t paid to sign. Once I have his notarized, unconditional surrender of parental rights, I feel much, much lighter. The only hiccup is that Barbara doesn’t answer when I call, so he’s forced to leave his apology on her voicemail. I decide that’s good enough. They can replay it as many times as they want.
And then, I transfer him the money.
While I’m paying the check for dinner, the man practically dances around—the clearance of funds has already come through on his phone. “You’re an interesting guy.” He laughs. “Actually, for someone so rich, you’re really stupid.”
“Is that so?” I walk out of the restaurant while he trots along behind me, smiling ear to ear.
“It is,” he says. “Your girlfriend must not tell you anything at all, because I lied to you, and you didn’t even know it.”
My stomach drops. Is he not really the girls’ father? Did he just sign forms that don’t really free those girls? I feel a little sick. Losing the money’s frustrating, but is there still some kind of piranha out there, waiting to try and bite those little girls? Waiting to attack Barbara?
“You really should talk to your girlfriend more.” He’s grinning very obnoxiously. It’s almost as bad as the Joker in Batman. “And there’s such a thing in the world known as haggling.”
“Haggling?” I’m really confused.
He starts to laugh so hard that he has tears running down his face. “Two hundred thousand dollars.” He shakes his head. “What an idiot.”
“Why am I an idiot?” I ask. “Because I still happen to think that’s a bargain to free those girls from someone like you.”
“I lied about that commercial. They only made five grand.” He wipes his eyes. “You, sir, were just duped.”
And that’s it.
