Highest Bidder

by Le Carre, Georgia

  “Then what is it? You don’t want me to be worried?”

  “Well …”

  “You can’t shoulder all of this alone.”

  “I won’t,” she said. “Not anymore. I’m going to see your aunt Bethany and ask her to lend us some money.”

  I reared back. “No, Mom. You can’t do that. You cut off all contact with her years ago because she used to treat you like shit. She’ll make you grovel for the money.”

  “I know,” she replied, lifting her chin. “But it’s either that or we lose our home.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry honey, but I need to raise sixty thousand pounds by the day after tomorrow, or we’re going to be kicked out of here by the Bailiffs.”

  My heart seized, realizing it was worse than I thought. “Sixty thousand pounds. Mom? How long has this been going on?”

  “I just thought I’d deal with it later. I didn’t realize it was already a court matter. The court sent the order two weeks ago. I hoped I’d be able to gather enough before tomorrow, but …” She bit her lip, “I barely have eight thousand.”

  My jaw dropped. While I’ve been mooning over Brent, my mother has had this axe hanging over her head. I had the money in the bank. I just needed to find a way to tell my mom about it. “Mom, Aunt Bethany is not going to lend you sixty thousand pounds.”

  “If Bethany refuses me, we still have some of your father’s associates. Perhaps they’ll be able to chip in a little bit for us. Your father did a lot for them while he was alive. They owe us some help.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry honey. I’ll handle it.”

  She got up to walk away and the ache in my heart constricted my throat. “Mom?” I cried.

  “Yes, darling”

  “Don’t go anywhere!” I said, rising to my feet. “I’ll get you the money tomorrow.”

  She looked at me blankly. “How?”

  “I already have it.”

  She sat down heavily. “You have that amount of money? Where did you get sixty thousand pounds from?”

  I swallowed, and allowed the words to just flow out, “I got a job.”

  “That pays you sixty thousand pounds?”

  “Uh.” I couldn’t look her in the eyes. “It’s over a period. My course’s work placement begins in January so I asked them for a large advance, you know to help out. It’s more like a student loan. I have to pay it back, of course.” I knew I had started babbling so I snapped my mouth shut.

  “And they’re willing to grant you the sixty thousand pounds?”

  I didn’t blame her for her skepticism. I sounded like I was out of my mind. “It’s a chartered firm my professor recommended to me. He knows the partners personally so when I made the request today after explaining my situation, he promised to vouch for me. They’ve agreed to grant it to me to be repaid in installments at later dates.”

  For the longest time, she was quiet, but Mom was never knowledgeable about finances, so I prayed with all of my heart that she would buy into it.

  Then she leaned forward and hugged me tightly. For a while, we just held each other in silence then I felt my coat become damp with her tears. And that was the moment I knew for sure that I had done the right thing to sell my virginity at the club. No matter what happened between me and Brent—I had done right by my mother.

  Freya

  Five hours later, I was going mad with frustration as I sat in the customer service section of Barclays Bank pondering on what to do next. Over the last one-and-a-half hours I had been passed between departments in a bid to figure out why the hell my account had suddenly been frozen. Until now, no clear explanation had been given to me except some vague statements about investigations, standard procedures at sudden and unexpected transactions, and suspicions of those monies being linked to money laundering activities.

  I had tried my best to avoid any involvement with Brent, I eventually had to pick up the phone to dial his number. I listened to it ring and prayed with all of my heart that he would respond.

  He did.

  “Brent,” I said swallowing my anxiety, “Barclays says that your bank will have to send a swift message confirming that the money you deposited is legal. Please contact them to get this sorted out.”

  “Okay,” he said calmly, and ended the call.

  A few minutes later, his call came through to relay disheartening news. “They can only do that if Barclays instigates a request. Hand the phone over to the staff in charge.”

  I shot to my feet and went in search of help.

  Brent got his call escalated to a manager. Her response was simple. She had no authority to intervene in the standard protocol put in place. I could hear Brent losing his temper. He asked her if that was the same procedure they used when they laundered the money of the drug cartels. She went stiff and doubled down on her insistence that there was nothing she could do. She was just a cog in the machinery. She infuriated him so much he cut the line. Red-faced she turned to me and said she would make enquiries and try to hurry the process along for me.

  “I don’t have time. I need the money today or else I’m going to lose my home.”

  “I apologize,” came her lifeless, uncaring response. “We are instructed by the government to flag down and thoroughly investigate any suspicions of fraudulent activity in our customer’s accounts. Once the investigation is over, your account may be restored if no issues arise, however if otherwise, other stringent resolutions will follow.”

  I wanted to tear her skin off her body, but I managed to calm myself and walk out of the bank. Once I was on the bus, I shut my eyes and tried to figure out what to do. First, I called my mother to ensure that she had heeded my warning.

  “Did you get the money, Freya?” she asked eagerly.

  I hated to disappoint her. “Er … no, but I will.”

  “Oh, never mind. It was a long shot, anyway.”

  “Mom, you didn’t go asking anyone for money, did you?”

  Her sigh was heavy and it terrified me that she might have. “Mom!”

  “Well, I made a few calls. I’ve set up some meetings for tomorrow.”

  “Mom!” I cried.

  “Freya, don’t be so upset. We wi—”

  “Mom, I don’t care what happens. You’re not going to see those people. I don’t want you to beg from anyone. So what if we lose our home? We’ll use the eight thousand we have now to get a temporary place, then once my money comes in, we’ll buy ourselves a small place, okay?”

  “It’s grandma’s home,” she said to me. “We can’t let them take it away. It’s your inheritance.”

  I tried hard to keep my voice bright and happy. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay. We’ll manage.”

  “Come home now,” she said to me. “We need to talk about this.”

  “I’m already on the bus and on my way.”

  “I love you, Freya.”

  “I love you too, Mom,” I said and my voice broke. Once we had been so rich and look at us now. I had money I couldn’t touch and we were about to be kicked out of our home.

  * * *

  My mother and I began to pack up almost as soon as I got home. We didn’t say a word to each other beyond the practical comments of where what should go and the surprise of just how much stuff we had. Maddie had said we could stay at her apartment until we found a place and she would go stay with Ella.

  I burst into tears when they came around to tell me that. We had a group hug and bawled our eyes out. Afterwards, they helped too. Everything was in boxes when an envelope was pushed through the door. It bore the mark of the bailiffs, and I opened it with shaking hands.

  And … stared at it in shock.

  “What is it?” Ella asked at the look on my face.

  I couldn’t speak.

  “Honey,” my mom called.

  Maddie snatched the letter out of my hand. “Let me see that,” she said taking over.

  “What's going on?” my mother asked, her voice thin with worry.

 
Maddie looked up from the letter. “The arrears for the loan against the apartment has been paid. The bailiffs have been called off.”

  My mother crumpled into a heap on the floor.

  I hurried over to her. “Mom?”

  “How? By whom?” she whispered.

  “They don’t say,” Maddie said.

  “Yay!” Ella screamed.

  “Well, I went to your uncle Leslie yesterday, but he wasn’t very welcoming. Was he the one? But then ... I didn't even get the chance to mention the amount before I was shut down. How did he know where to go or how much to pay?”

  Both Maddie and Ella looked at me with knowing expressions.

  I looked away, and the sickening feeling returned to my stomach. I excused myself and escaped to my room. There, I thought long and hard, and eventually picked up my phone. I dialed Brent’s number multiple times but could not reach him.

  Both Ella and Maddie came into my room.

  “You want to go to him, don’t you?” Ella asked.

  I nodded dumbly.

  “Just go,” Ella said softly. “We’ll sort everything out with your Mom.”

  “What if he had something to do with my Dad’s death,?” I whispered.

  “He is innocent until proven guilty. No matter what, he just saved your ass for you, Freya. Go say thank you.”

  I grabbed my coat and ran out of the apartment after telling my mother some yarn about having to meet a fellow student.

  Freya

  It was already late evening and devastatingly cold when I took the train to Brent’s home in Chelsea. To my surprise, I didn’t even have to ring the bell before I was immediately let in through the gates.

  When I arrived at the door, a thin man in acid washed jeans introduced himself as Brent’s PA. His name was Michael and he seemed to know exactly who I was. “Let me take you to him. He’s in his study,” he said. After a brief knock, he opened the door.

  I walked in to meet Brent seated behind a heavy oak desk. He was on the phone. He indicated with his palm that I should take a seat opposite him.

  I just stood close to the door and looked around me so I wouldn’t have to look at him and his devastating beauty. The space was lavishly endowed with wall to ceiling bookshelves, an antique fireplace and mantle, leather furnishes.

  I tried my best to keep my nerves, and the memories of the last time I had been in the house at bay. Soon, he was done with his call and I was forced to look at him.

  He was wearing a sky-blue sweater that hugged his broad shoulders and the warmth from the room and fire, gave his skin the sheen of warm milk. I wanted nothing more than to run my fingers through his hair, have his beautiful mouth on my breasts, and his hard cock inside of me. Would every man I tried to love from now on, always fall short of him? Jesus! Love? Where did that come from? I must be losing my mind.

  He was watching me quietly.

  I cleared my throat. “Oh … uh,” I began. “Did you … Did you pay the arrears outstanding on my mother’s apartment?”

  “I did,” he responded.

  I wasn’t touched … I was just speechless. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I hate it when banks bully their most vulnerable customers.”

  I had never been so confused. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Are you trying to guilt me into sleeping with you?”

  He grinned suddenly. “Freya, I don’t need to guilt you into anything. With or without the money, I could have you any time I wanted to.”

  At my widened gaze, he cocked his head. “Is that not true?”

  “You speak as if I have no say in the matter,” I retorted annoyed.

  He looked genuinely amused as he rose to his feet.

  I staggered backwards a few steps before I caught myself. I was not afraid of him.

  He began to circle the desk and the air was suddenly charged with danger and tension.

  I started to feel like a prey. “Brent,” I called.

  He smiled. “You’re already out of breath.”

  “Don’t touch me,” I cried, but I wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him. I almost couldn’t believe that those lips had been on the most intimate parts of my body.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t,” he said, stopping just a couple of feet away from me.

  My heart fell into my stomach with disappointment, especially since the scent of him was filling my nostrils. That scent … of tobacco and musk. I was certain it would forever haunt me. I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting down to the expertly tailored dark slacks.

  He laughed, and I hurriedly dragged my gaze back to his.

  “I won’t touch you,” he said, “until we have an agreement in place.”

  “Agreement?”

  His lips spread to reveal his perfect teeth, in what would have seemed to the casual onlooker that he was smiling, but I could tell from his eyes there was not an amused bone in his body. “You see I have a very vivid memory. I can’t stop thinking of how sweet your cunt tastes or those little mewing kitten sounds you make when I run my tongue along your slit. It blows my mind and has made the past few weeks excruciatingly difficult for me. I’m constantly distracted at work … and it really pisses me off when I can’t concentrate on the job at hand. I can tell just by looking at you now that it is the same for you. So how about you and me stay together for a month. The goal is to get you out of my system and me out of yours.”

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying and my heart was beating ferociously.

  “I didn’t kill your father,” he continued. “And if that’s what’s holding you back, and if it was indeed Liam who put such a crazy idea into your head, then you can go back and tell him that I'm especially angry now. His death was meant to be slow, but now, tell him to expect the worst in a few weeks. Let that drive him crazy just as you’re doing to me right now.”

  “Brent!” I gasped, shocked out of my mind. “You can’t say things like that.”

  “Why the fuck not?” he asked, his brows furrowing into a deep frown as he slipped his hands into his pocket. “Do you think I’m joking? Liam knows me. He knows I mean every word I say. You don’t have to believe me, but he will.”

  “Are you stupid? Do you want to fucking throw your life away? If anything happened to him, you’re going to be ruined.”

  His smile was mocking. “You’d have to prove that I was responsible first.”

  I felt my belly clench with fear for him. What was this feud between them? Whatever it was, Liam was not worth it. “I’ll stop you,” I said, “so for Pete's sake stop whatever the hell you’re doing.”

  “Okay,” he said, and turned around to return to his seat.

  I felt like I was being toyed with. “I’m not joking, Brent.”

  He narrowed his gaze at me. “Why do you even care? You did the same thing a decade ago.”

  “I don’t believe that you truly wanted to go through with it. You were just furious. You needed someone to make you stop.”

  He was genuinely amused. “You think I didn’t go through with it because you stopped me? I stopped because I didn’t know how to get away with it.”

  “And now you do?”

  “It’s been ten years. What do you think?”

  I felt something very cold run down my spine. “Hearing you speak like this, it truly makes me wonder if perhaps Liam was telling the truth about what you did to my father.”

  “Freya, if I killed your father I’d let you know that I did. I’m not a scurrying rat like Liam is.” He replaced his glasses back over his eyes. “You can see yourself out.”

  I watched him as he returned to his laptop, his gaze moving between it and the other three giant screens before him. I hated how he could just cut me off like that and I wanted to hurt him. Really hurt him the way he was hurting me. “Actually, Liam is not such a scurrying rat. I found him quite attractive.”

  He shot to his feet and I could have sworn that I felt the room slightly shudder. In one swipe of his hand, the laptop
flew from the desk and crashed into the book cases on the opposite end of the room.

  My hands flew to my mouth in fright as I watched the equipment smash violently against the wood and fall to pieces on the polished hardwood. “Brent,” I gasped.

  His voice was as cold as ice as he spoke, “You’re testing me. I was trying to be polite for old time’s sake, but I can see now that I’ve given you too much power. I want you and I’m going to have you. I’ve settled your immediate debt, but that’s not the end of it. In less than forty-eight hours, the Bailiffs will be back at your door.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t know, did you?” he asked, with a mocking smile.

  “Know what?”

  “Your mother took a second loan against the property.”

  My heart sank. He knew what I didn’t and was reveling in the power his knowledge gave him over me. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll pay it myself,” I responded tightly.

  I watched furiously as he turned his back and walked over to the drinks cabinet. ‘‘You want one?” he asked.

  “No thanks.’’

  ‘‘You look like you could do with one,” he said sarcastically and began calmly pouring himself a drink. Then he turned his attention back to me. ‘‘I’m afraid paying it yourself is most unlikely since your account is frozen. In my experience of these situations, the bank will be in no hurry to unblock your funds. Especially since they will have already placed those funds into a high interest account. It could take two weeks, but the bailiffs will be at your property tomorrow.’’

  My mind was a firestorm of confusion and anger. Why didn’t Mom tell me about this second loan yesterday when she had the chance?

  Suddenly, he came close enough that I could smell his familiar scent. His eyes were intense and intimidating. “You want to keep your property, you fuck me. One month, or until I get you the fuck out of my head. Call me when you’re done weighing your options.” He stepped over the carnage of metal and glass that used to be a laptop and walked towards the door.

  “Brent?” I called, feeling sorry I had infuriated him so much.