I had $32 million hidden in plain sight, and my son still called me pathetic at the Dallas rooftop dinner he thought would prove he had finally risen above me. He thought that rooftop was where I would be put in my place. He had no idea I walked in already knowing exactly how that night was going to turn.
I had thirty-two million dollars hidden in plain sight, and my son had not called me in four months. Not for my birthday in February. Not at Easter. Not even one of those careless little messages people send from a grocery line so they can tell themselves they tried. At sixty-seven, I had learned that…
