Finally the anger in LuAnn’s eyes passed away. “Well, I guess if you put it that way—”
“I do, Ms. Tyler. May I call you LuAnn?”
“That’s my name,” she said brusquely. She sat back down. “Well, I don’t want to waste your time either, so what about the hours? Is the afternoon okay?”
Jackson abruptly returned to his seat and looked down at the desk, rubbing his hands slowly over its cracked surface. When he looked back up at her, his countenance was even more serious than it had been seconds before.
“Have you ever dreamed of being rich, LuAnn? I mean rich beyond all your wildest fantasies. So wealthy in fact that you and your daughter could literally do anything in the world you wanted to do, when you wanted to do it? Have you ever had that dream?”
LuAnn started to laugh until she caught the look in his eyes. There was no humor, no diffidence, no sympathy in their depths, merely an intense desire to hear her answer.
“Hell, yes. Who hasn’t had that dream?”
“Well, those who are already filthy rich rarely do, I can tell you that. However, you’re right, most other people, at some point in their lives, have that fantasy. Yet virtually no one ever makes that fantasy a reality. The reason is simple: They can’t.”
LuAnn smiled disarmingly. “But a hundred bucks a day ain’t bad either.”
Jackson stroked his chin for several seconds, coughed to clear his throat, and then asked a question. “LuAnn, do you ever play the lottery?”
She was surprised by the inquiry but readily replied. “Now and then. Everybody around here does. It can get expensive, though. Duane plays every week, sometimes half his paycheck—that is when he pulls a paycheck, which ain’t usually the case. He’s all-fired certain he’s going to win. Plays the same numbers every time. Says he saw them in a dream. I say he’s just dumber than dirt. Why?”
“Have you ever played the national Lotto?”
“You mean the one for the whole country?”
Jackson nodded, his eyes fixed on her. “Yes,” he said slowly, “that’s exactly the one I mean.”
“Once in a while. But the odds are so big I got a better chance of going for a stroll on the moon than I do of winning that thing.”
“You’re absolutely right. In fact, the odds this month are approximately one in thirty million.”
“That’s what I mean. I’d rather go for the dollar scratch-offs. At least then you got a chance to make a quick twenty bucks. No sense throwing good money after bad, I always say, particularly when you don’t got none to speak of.”
Jackson licked his lips and leaned his elbows on the desk as he looked at her. “What would you say if I told you I could drastically better your chances of winning the lottery?” He kept his eyes trained resolutely on her.
“Excuse me?” Jackson said nothing. LuAnn looked around the room as if expecting to see a surveillance camera somewhere. “What’s this got to do with the job? I didn’t come here to play no games, mister.”
“In fact,” Jackson continued, ignoring her queries, “what if I could lower your odds to one in one? Would you do it?”
LuAnn exploded. “Is this some kind of big joke? If I didn’t know better I’d think maybe Duane was behind this. You better tell me what the hell’s going on before I really get mad.”
“This is no joke, LuAnn.”
LuAnn rose out of the chair. “You durn sure got something else on the burner and I don’t want no parts of it. No parts! Hundred bucks a day or not,” she said with deep disgust, mingled with deeper disappointment as her plans for the thousand-dollar payday rapidly faded away. She picked up Lisa and her bag and turned to leave.
The quiet tones of Jackson’s voice rippled across her back. “I am guaranteeing that you will win the lottery, LuAnn. I am guaranteeing that you will win, at minimum, fifty million dollars.”
She stopped. Despite her brain’s telling her to run as fast as she could out of the place, she found herself slowly turning to face him.