Popcorn Piece: Million Dollar Babies
Day Fourteen of Thirty Days of Writing

Thursday was the day of the most important sales pitch of Paul’s career. If he landed this sale, a one million dollar contract with Gest Media, his boss had promised him a promotion — and Paul needed this promotion. He had just found out the day before that his fiancé was pregnant with not one, but two babies — twins. He had fainted at the doctor’s appointment when the technician found the second baby on the ultra sound.
He and Karen had not planned for the first baby, much less two at the same time. They needed the money, and they needed it now.
“Good luck today, you’re ready — I know it,” Karen had said, kissing him on the cheek and handing him a thermos of coffee.
Paul smiled as he thought of Karen. He loved her, and he was ready to land this sale.
The sun shone brightly overhead, as Paul cruised down the highway toward Grant. Gest Media’s headquarters was located about 50 miles outside of the city. According to his GPS he was to arrive about an hour and a half early for his meeting — just in case.
Paul flipped his visor down; the sun was making it difficult to see the road in front of him. He ran through his sales pitch over and over in his head. He obsessively checked the back seat to make sure the samples he had brought hadn’t mysteriously disappeared. He sang along to his old Journey CD, trying to shake the nerves.
There were only a few cars on the road when Paul started to notice a smoke clouding the highway around him. He looked around uncertain to where all the cloudiness was coming from. When he looked to the left, a man in the van next to him was waving frantically at him and pointing at the front of Paul’s car. Paul had just bought this Mazda a year ago. It was practically brand new. His stomach sank as he pulled over to the side of the road, the smoke spiraling from the hood becoming thicker and thicker.
He popped open the hood. Paul didn’t really know much about cars, but he figured the smoke shouldn’t really be trapped in there. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for AAA. Estimated time of arrival was 45 minutes for the tow truck, and who knows how long to get a rental after that. Paul ran his fingers through his hair and kicked the passenger side tire.
It was about ninety degrees outside and he was starting to sweat in his suit. Why hadn’t he thought to bring a change of clothes? At least he had left an hour and a half window for things like this. He would make it there on time. He stripped off his suit jacket and laid it on the seat of the car and waited.
