Publication Date: April 3, 2024
Pages: 145
Genre: Mystery
In Is Truth Stranger than Fiction . . . You Decide, J.B. Miller takes readers on a captivating journey through the world of storytelling. The three stories in volume one explore the fascinating intersection of fact and fiction.
With her trademark wit, Miller poses thought-provoking questions about the nature of reality, the power of imagination, and the enduring appeal of a well-told tale.
Each story is a mystery for the reader to decide. Is it truth or is it fiction?
Hint: There is truth in every story.
Challenge: If you can figure out how the stories connect you can be acknowledged in volume two for being spot on.
Email miller.jody@icloud.com to enter your answers and your name. By doing so, and if you are correct, you agree to have your name mentioned in volume 2.
Whether you’re a fan of literature, film, or simply mysteries of human experience, this book is sure to enlighten and entertain. A must-read for anyone who has ever wondered where the boundaries of truth and fiction truly lie.
Excerpt
1.Fired
Bill had no clue he was about to be fired.
He was sure that his job as an Institutional Salesman at a leading Investment Bank was secure. After all, he alone was responsible for the largest investment funds the bank dealt with and had spent the last ten plus years cultivating those relationships.
Bill thought nothing of jumping on a red eye from New York to San Francisco, just so he could arrive in time to take the head of a Hedge Fund out to breakfast, and then fly back the same day to do dinner with Global Investments, the bank’s largest client.
A go-getter and dedicated employee described Bill perfectly.
Bill loved his job and knew that sacrifice was required for success.
He willingly signed up fifteen years ago (after getting his undergrad from Columbia and MBA from Wharton), with the hope that he would run his Father’s global fund someday.
At 42, Bill took on the look of most investment professionals; slightly overweight, thinning hair, a few wrinkles. He was not as good as he once was, but overall, he could still turn a head now and then.
He used to get up at 3 a.m., workout at the New York Athletic Club in midtown and be at his desk by 5. But over the past few years, what with all the extra responsibilities that come with being a top biller, a father of growing children and making sure he paid adequate attention to his wife, the exercise slipped away.
That’s when the weight sneaked in. But hey, he got an extra hour of sleep instead, so he accepted the tradeoff.
Bill’s wife quit her job as an Attorney when the first of their three children was born and did a superb job raising them.
Now she volunteered at the kids’ school, headed up the annual fundraiser and played tennis four days a week at the indoor tennis club on the westside waterfront.
Bill didn’t mind that his wife wasn’t working anymore; he liked being the sole provider for a family he could be proud of.
All three kids got accepted into Doty Day School, the top private school on the Upper Eastside, which caused his chest to puff out a bit more at neighborhood parties. The founder named the school after some relative of his who came over on the Mayflower.
Luckily for Bill, he was a Mayflower descendent too. That, combined with a very successful job in a top industry made his kids a shoe in.
All in, tuition only put him back $180k a year, which included a substantial donation to the annual fund. His bonus more than covered it, even though this year projected to be a little less.
Rumor on the street was that machines (something called AI) were fast replacing sales traders and institutional salespeople at large banks, which, he admitted, made him a little nervous.
But Bill knew he brought value to his employer and pushed the worry out of his mind.
At 9 years old, his oldest boy was a natural pitcher. Bill knew it because he hired a private pitching coach who said so and who worked out with his son three afternoons a week to shape his skills.
The coach promised that a top ten college scholarship would be in the future, even if he had to pull some strings (wink), so Bill willingly forked over $300 a session.
His first-grade daughter could sing like a lark. She took private lessons from the top voice coach to the Broadway stars. Seeing his daughter’s name in lights was as much his dream as it was hers.
The youngest boy hadn’t developed a particular talent or passion yet (he was only five), so Bill and his wife opted for educational augmentation to ensure some sort of advantage over the rest of the pack.
Raising a family was expensive, but in Bill’s mind, definitely worth it.
Like everyone else in sales on Wall Street, he lived on a pithy monthly base and used credit cards to cover the rest of it. When the bonus came, a big sigh of relief followed.
It happened on a Friday.
Bonus numbers were due the following Monday and Bill was edgy with anticipation as to what his number would be when it came out of the firm’s big black box of subjectivity.
If he made his traditional third of revenues, he would bring in low to mid seven figures if he impressed the head of the division enough – something he tried to do whenever he could.
The bonus covered his mortgage, kid’s tuition, private lessons, vacations, and the down payment on the summer cottage in the Hamptons he and his wife had their eyes on. He knew it would all work out like always and he could breathe for another year.
Bill’s phone rang at 4:35 p.m., shortly after the market closed. He was getting ready to head out for a weekend in the Hamptons.
“Hi Bill, it’s Susan in HR. Can you stop by for a minute before you leave?”
That’s weird, he thought. Why would Susan want to see me?
He remembered that he pinged Susan about coverage for glasses for his youngest. That could be it.
Bill made his way up the elevator to HR and waited outside Susan’s office as she finished up a call.
He watched her through the glass and noticed that she appeared particularly somber. She must be dealing with a problem, he thought. It went with the territory. Bill brushed it off and settled in to wait his turn.
“Hey Cal,” Bill called as the Head of Capital Markets walked by.
Cal nodded briefly, as though preoccupied with something else, and moved on. Cal was usually so jovial.
“Bill, come on in.”
Bill didn’t hear the door open but was glad he didn’t have to wait a long time to be seen.
“Hi Susan, how goes it? Were you able to find out if the Vision Plan covers glasses? My little guy must have gotten his grandfather’s eyes, which sucks for him.”
“Have a seat, Bill,” Susan replied. “We need to talk.”
An overwhelming sense of dread sent shockwaves through Bill’s ears to the edge of his Cole Hahn loafers.
Have a seat could only mean one thing.
Bill’s phone vibrated. He glanced at the text.
I hope your bonus is big because I’m pregnant!
– Excerpted from Is Truth Stranger Than Fiction by JB Miller, JB Miller, 2024. Reprinted with permission.
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