self-centered jerk.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to…I mean, you’re the one with the ticket. It was your idea to buy it. You don’t—”
He stops and holds up a hand, incredulous. “Are you serious?
Dios.
”
“It’s your ticket. You—”
“Holly, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“But—”
He shakes his head and inches closer to me. His work boot bumps against the toes of my canvas sneakers. “Do you really think I would take the money? And leave you with nothing? And then…and then kiss you like that?”
I close my eyes. I don’t
think
he would, no. But this is reality. People behave in all sorts of ways. You have to be prepared for the worst.
And I wasn’t, I realize. It didn’t occur to me not to believe the best of Ray.
“I just…I wanted you to know you have options.”
He grabs my hand. “I do have options, yeah. I opt to share the ticket with you, and the winnings, like I said I would. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Good. Tomorrow we can claim the ticket. Together. But first, I think we should talk to a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?”
He lifts his shoulders, embarrassed. “I read the testimonials on the Powerball site. Everybody gets a lawyer to help them decide what to do with the money. Anyway, there might be other winners, too. We’ll have to figure all that out.”
“Okay. Really? Yeah, let’s…let’s do that. Do we get the same lawyer or—”
Ray cocks his head. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. Yeah, you’ll probably want somebody separate, right? Just to make sure your, um…your interests are being covered and everything.”
His voice has turned strangely formal. I pull back and release his hand.
“My interests?”
“I don’t know, Holly.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to do this any more than you do.”
I watch him for a minute. I want very much to climb into his arms right now, like a child. But I can’t do that. I can’t lean on Ray, as tempting as it is. I have Drew to consider. I have, as Ray put it, my own interests to look out for.
That’s reality.
Ray holds my gaze. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Yes.” I back away toward my car, fishing in my pocket for the keys.
He stands where he is, watching me. “Holly.”
I go still, and suddenly he’s stepping forward, holding my face gently in his hands. He kisses me once, softly, on the lips, and whispers, “Congratulations.”
I shouldn’t hug him—I should step back and get into my car. But I do hug him. I wrap my arms around his solid body and kiss the side of his hair. It smells like shea butter, like the lotion I rubbed onto my belly when I was pregnant.
The scent stays with me all the way home.
Chapter 8
Ray
As diligently as our lawyers have prepared us for this moment, it’s still a shock to walk into a room filled with cameras flashing and microphones pointed in your direction. Filled with people you don’t know calling your name.
A man in a khaki suit stands on a makeshift stage with a blue curtain behind it, holding a giant check. It’s the sort of scene you’d imagine in your telenovela fantasy of lottery winning—cheesy and low-rent, like it was set up hastily on the floor of the DMV.
It’s a surreal contrast to what is actually happening: the handing over of almost two hundred million dollars to a couple of Cogmans coworkers who met only two months ago. It turns out that ours was the only winning ticket.
The only one.
Sold at Patty’s deli, which means she’ll get a nice bonus from the State of New York.
And after taxes Holly and I will take home over eighty million dollars each.
Cash.
On the advice of our lawyers, we’ve opted for a single lump-sum payment. Whatever we don’t use right away can be invested. It can generate even more money, potentially, although the concept of more at this point is vaguely ridiculous. I can’t begin to conceive of how to spend what I have now.
And of course that’s the first question the reporters ask. After
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to…I mean, you’re the one with the ticket. It was your idea to buy it. You don’t—”
He stops and holds up a hand, incredulous. “Are you serious?
Dios.
”
“It’s your ticket. You—”
“Holly, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“But—”
He shakes his head and inches closer to me. His work boot bumps against the toes of my canvas sneakers. “Do you really think I would take the money? And leave you with nothing? And then…and then kiss you like that?”
I close my eyes. I don’t
think
he would, no. But this is reality. People behave in all sorts of ways. You have to be prepared for the worst.
And I wasn’t, I realize. It didn’t occur to me not to believe the best of Ray.
“I just…I wanted you to know you have options.”
He grabs my hand. “I do have options, yeah. I opt to share the ticket with you, and the winnings, like I said I would. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Good. Tomorrow we can claim the ticket. Together. But first, I think we should talk to a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?”
He lifts his shoulders, embarrassed. “I read the testimonials on the Powerball site. Everybody gets a lawyer to help them decide what to do with the money. Anyway, there might be other winners, too. We’ll have to figure all that out.”
“Okay. Really? Yeah, let’s…let’s do that. Do we get the same lawyer or—”
Ray cocks his head. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. Yeah, you’ll probably want somebody separate, right? Just to make sure your, um…your interests are being covered and everything.”
His voice has turned strangely formal. I pull back and release his hand.
“My interests?”
“I don’t know, Holly.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to do this any more than you do.”
I watch him for a minute. I want very much to climb into his arms right now, like a child. But I can’t do that. I can’t lean on Ray, as tempting as it is. I have Drew to consider. I have, as Ray put it, my own interests to look out for.
That’s reality.
Ray holds my gaze. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Yes.” I back away toward my car, fishing in my pocket for the keys.
He stands where he is, watching me. “Holly.”
I go still, and suddenly he’s stepping forward, holding my face gently in his hands. He kisses me once, softly, on the lips, and whispers, “Congratulations.”
I shouldn’t hug him—I should step back and get into my car. But I do hug him. I wrap my arms around his solid body and kiss the side of his hair. It smells like shea butter, like the lotion I rubbed onto my belly when I was pregnant.
The scent stays with me all the way home.
Chapter 8
Ray
As diligently as our lawyers have prepared us for this moment, it’s still a shock to walk into a room filled with cameras flashing and microphones pointed in your direction. Filled with people you don’t know calling your name.
A man in a khaki suit stands on a makeshift stage with a blue curtain behind it, holding a giant check. It’s the sort of scene you’d imagine in your telenovela fantasy of lottery winning—cheesy and low-rent, like it was set up hastily on the floor of the DMV.
It’s a surreal contrast to what is actually happening: the handing over of almost two hundred million dollars to a couple of Cogmans coworkers who met only two months ago. It turns out that ours was the only winning ticket.
The only one.
Sold at Patty’s deli, which means she’ll get a nice bonus from the State of New York.
And after taxes Holly and I will take home over eighty million dollars each.
Cash.
On the advice of our lawyers, we’ve opted for a single lump-sum payment. Whatever we don’t use right away can be invested. It can generate even more money, potentially, although the concept of more at this point is vaguely ridiculous. I can’t begin to conceive of how to spend what I have now.
And of course that’s the first question the reporters ask. After
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