The gal who had been playing the pocket of Elvis March had fallen for his performance and thought he was rich.
The March family had been at the top of society when her grandmother was in primary school.
Over the years they weren’t at the top anymore, she didn’t know how far down they were.
Hearing the name ‘March’ she assumed the scrawny nothing guy was a money man, so had put herself in his path.
She had listened between the words when he declined to pay her rent. She knew he was a nobody pretending to be a millionaire.
She learned he had planned to book into the all inclusive for three days when she met him. To be near her, he had wound up spending ten.
When he tried to pay for another day, his credit card bounced. Having to leave, he told her a story about an emergency in town.
She’d gotten a few expensive gifts, a few excursions, so it wasn’t a total loss.
She shrugged him off as dandruff and walked away, to soon replace him with another, younger and a bit more generous.
Elvis March, embarrassed by his lack of coin, about being played, returned to the city.
To pump his ego he decided to throw his weight around, his target; the Church Office and Miriam House.