The Offer

by Karina Halle

  “Bram?” she asks, studying my face. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

  I clear my throat gently. “Do you believe it?”

  She blinks, shocked. “Of course I believe it. I…I love you.”

  I shake my head once. “Then you didn’t say the wrong thing. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Surprised but grateful. It’s an honor for you to say those words to me.”

  “An honor?” she repeats, letting go of my neck. “Why are you talking like you need a sword and a horse?”

  I shrug, trying to be playful but I can tell she’s hurt, rejected like nothing else.

  “Listen,” I tell her, trying to bring her to me but she wriggles out of my grasp and walks a few steps away. I follow her, putting a strong grip on her arm and holding her in place. “Don’t walk away. This is nothing to get upset about.”

  “I just told you I love you!” she cries out, her expression pained. “And you didn’t say anything in return.”

  “Nicola, please.” I smooth her hair behind her ears and hold her face in my hands. “I adore you. I want to spend every minute with you. I want to spend my future with you. But I’m a man of a past I have yet to shake, even though I’m working on it. You’re bringing me out of the past and into the future, where I belong.”

  I try to kiss her but she moves her face out of the way. “It’s that woman, Taylor,” she whispers and I try not to freeze at the mention of her name. “It’s her, isn’t it? The one you fucked everything up with.”

  “Not really,” I tell her and I’m being honest here. “No. It’s not like that. Honestly, I’m not in love with her, I swear to you, and that was many, many years ago.”

  The can of worms is tipping. I should just come clean now. Come clean and explain and if she loves me, if she really loves me, she’ll understand. It’s nothing we can’t overcome, not at all. If anything, she might relate to me even more.

  But I don’t say anything because I am more of a coward than I’d like to admit. I’m too damn proud and too bloody afraid to mess this up any further, even though it feels like I already have.

  “Nicola,” I say to her again, my voice hard, “please believe me when I say I’m not in love with anyone but I swear to you it will be you and soon. I just need time to come around and when I do, it’s going to be magic.”

  “Magic,” she repeats.

  “Please,” I say, “you can’t fault me for being honest with you. I always have been and I won’t stop now. I am honored beyond belief that you actually love me, me the perpetual fuck-up, and I’m going to hold onto your love like it’s gold.” I kiss her softly, sweetly, and to my utmost relief, she kisses me back. “I’m never letting go of you either. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Forever.”

  She nods but I can still spot that heart-breaking rejection in her eyes. I’ve seen it before and on a much larger scale.

  We walk back into the party and I don’t let go of her for a second, even when she tries to leave. I keep holding on because I feel I’m so close to losing her and I can’t let that happen.

  I can’t.

  I won’t.

  But I also can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen, all in due time.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nicola

  “Nicola, can I see you for a moment in my office?” It’s Thursday night and though the expected crowd isn’t quite here yet, I’m still surprised that James is calling me away from the bar. I have to admit, I don’t like this one bit, and as I follow him into the back rooms where his office is, my hands are clammy. Last time I was called into a place like this, I was fired.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if that happens. It’s been a weird week so far. First, I told Bram that I loved him and he didn’t respond in kind, which, although I appreciate his honesty, I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t absolutely ruin me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about, even though he’s being extra attentive with me now. And he was hella attentive before.

  Also, his interview he did at the gala was featured on the news and now the whole world knows about his little project, well at least California since it was apparently turned into a story about the lack affordable housing in the entire state. The minute it went live, Steph called me up, then Linden called Bram and a few days later, his parents called, having heard about it from friends of theirs.

  And just as Bram predicted, no one in his family is taking him seriously, at least that’s how Bram tells it. But I’d gone out for lunch with Steph and Kayla the other day and I can see their image of Bram has changed dramatically, and in the best way.

  Of course, I had to tell them about my epic rejection and from the way they flinched, it’s like they felt it too. No one asks for unrequited love.

  No one asks to be fired in the same week, either. I sit down across from James, my eyes flitting to the walls behind his desk where he used to have a Faith No More concert poster at The Warfield from 1995, but now he just has a motivational speaking type one. You know, with the schmaltzy sunsets. He’s going to start turning into Murray from Flight of the Conchords if he’s not careful.

  “Just get it over with,” I say to James, putting my face in my hands. “Like a Band-Aid, right off!”

  “What?” he asks. “No. Nicola. I’m not firing you.”

  I peek at him through my fingers. “No?”

  He shakes his head and gives me a placating smile. “No. I’m promoting you.”

  “What?” Now I’ve really snapped to attention. “Why?” I’ve seriously done nothing but spill drinks this whole week.

  “Because you’ve proven to be reliable,” he says, “more reliable than a lot of people here. I think I can trust you and you’re good at what you do.”

  James has never been so nice to me before. You know, other than giving me the job to begin with.

  “Seriously?” I ask, just to make sure this isn’t some joke.

  “Totally serious.” He sighs and leans back in his chair. “We’re coming into the summer season soon. June is next week, and this place is just going to get busier, all while more of my people will be wanting days off. Aside from that Disneyland trip, you never ask for days off. And even then, it wasn’t you asking. It was your charity man.”

  “So, I guess you saw the news too?”

  He nods. “I have to admit, Linden’s brother is the last person I would have expected to have a heart of gold but apparently he does. But, I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”

  I manage a small smile, even though it reminds me that I’m still living rent-free.

  “And with a promotion, you’ll be able to pay your own way now,” he adds, as if he can read my mind. “That is, if you want it. I’m not going to lie, being an assistant manager isn’t a walk in the park.”

  “Assistant manager?”

  He nods. “It’s longer hours and more responsibility. You won’t just be serving drinks anymore. Though I think you’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly.”

  I’m probably a terrible person for thinking this, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to take this job. I’d gotten used to spending my time with Ava during the days and when she’s down for a nap, I get to work on the sewing machine. Hell, I’m even wearing a top I sewed up the other day. It’s not perfect but I’m getting my groove back and – more importantly – my passion back. Having that in my life reminds me that there’s more to it all than just having a paycheck.

  Now with working full-time, I’m not sure I’ll have that much time to myself anymore, let alone Ava. But I know the right and responsible thing to do would be to accept it without question.

  Still, I find myself saying to James, “Do you mind if I have a day to think about it?”

  He seems caught off-guard. “Okay, sure. Take the whole week. Just…well, it’s not my business…”

  And whatever he was about to say, I can tell it’s not his business.

  I prod him anyway. “What?”

  James shrugs, his pretty boy face blasé. “I thin
k you could have a lucrative career here. And I know things are all cruisey at the moment for you, but eventually…that could change.”

  He’s basically hinting that I can’t have a free ride forever and I hate to admit that he’s right, because he has such an annoying way of offering up his opinion when it’s not needed, but he is right. I just don’t tell him that.

  “Well, I better go pour alcohol down some people’s throats,” I tell him, getting out of my seat. “And thank you. Really. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  The night doesn’t end up being as busy as we anticipated. Steph and Linden get there just before James says I can go home, but I’m too tired to stick around. There’s a lot on my mind.

  I get home just after midnight to an empty apartment. Ava is spending the next two nights with my mother in Livermore because it was just easier that way. Part of me is surprised that Bram isn’t in my apartment waiting for me like he usually is, but it could be he wants me over there for a change.

  With that in mind, I pour myself a glass of pinot gris, enjoying that first cold mouthful. Nothing could be sweeter. Then, once I remember to breathe a little, something I think I’m doing a bit less of lately, I go into the bedroom and change. I throw my homemade top and skinny jeans to the side and slip on a lacy red camisole with matching short shorts. Since I’m only going over there to screw, why dress up?

  I go back into the kitchen and while I’m finishing up my glass of wine, I hear the strangest sound coming from Bram’s apartment.

  Yelling.

  Then crying.

  Two voices, one that must be Bram’s but the other is female.

  My blood runs still and my heart kicks down a few gears.

  What the fuck is going on?

  I head out into the hall and now I can hear it more clearly.

  A woman yells, “Don’t you throw that back in my face. You could have been there!”

  Then Bram yells back, “I tried to fucking be there!”

  “Well, it was too damn late.” A pause and it sounds like she’s crying. “God, Matthew doesn’t need to hear this.”

  Who the fuck is Matthew?

  I try to swallow the brick in my throat. Things seem safe out here in the hallway. If I knock on his door, everything is going to change. I just know it. This woman, that voice…it all means something, it all means too much.

  Part of me just wants to go away. And I should. Go back in the apartment and drown out the voices the way I used to drown out Bram when I first moved in.

  But I don’t do that. I knock on his door instead.

  “Fuck,” Bram growls.

  I hold my breath.

  The door opens.

  Bram’s face falls at the sight of me. In his eyes, I can read everything. I can read the change.

  I can read the end.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, barely able to speak.

  In the background, I see a woman with long dark curly hair appear. She’s tall, on the curvy side, maybe a bit bigger than me, and pretty, with smooth honey skin. Her dark, dark eyes are tinged with red.

  Taylor.

  In an instant, I know it’s her.

  And she knows something about me. It probably helps that I’m wearing lingerie.

  “Nicola,” Bram says. “This isn’t a good time.”

  I jerk my head at the woman. “Who is she?” I try really hard not to sound like a jealous bitch but I’m totally failing.

  Bram’s face falls even more. “She’s the woman I told you about. Taylor.”

  I cross my arms, trying to act stronger than I am, trying to pretend that the name doesn’t shatter me. “The one that got away?”

  The woman frowns and then steps forward.

  “Hi,” she says, looking me up and down. “Are you his girlfriend?”

  I look at Bram. Am I your girlfriend?

  Was I?

  “I live next door,” I say by way of explanation. “And heard yelling so I thought I’d come over.”

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Bram says. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  I stare at him for a moment and I feel a world pass between us. Maybe time speeds up or maybe it slows down, but I feel myself clinging to the idea of what we were together.

  I love you, I think. What are you doing? What is this? Please let there be a perfectly rational explanation for everything. Make me believe it.

  “Mom,” a young boy’s voice says, and before it can really register, a little boy about six or seven in shorts and a t-shirt appears between Taylor and Bram.

  “It’s okay, Matthew,” she says, putting her hand on his head. The kid stares at me with tired eyes and he yawns big and loud.

  There’s something so damn familiar about this kid that I feel like I’m barely holding onto reality. Though his skin is darker, his eyes, his brows, the shape of his jaw, even at a young age, are all too similar. He’s even got on the same socks as Bram. Yellow and brown. The Loch Ness Monster.

  I look at Bram and realization slowly falls on me, like those first falling stones from an impending rockslide.

  “This is Matthew,” Taylor says to me. “Bram’s son.”

  And now the rest of the earth gives way.

  I’m falling on the inside, down, down, down, buried by the truth.

  On the outside I am frozen solid.

  I take in a sharp intake of air and can’t seem to let it go. It freezes in my lungs, burning liquid nitrogen.

  “I was going to tell you,” Bram says, rubbing his hand over his face, his voice strained. “But I didn’t know when. It’s so damn complicated.”

  “Bram,” Taylor warns him. “Not in front of him.”

  I can’t even form words. My mouth opens and closes like a stupid fish until finally I burst out, “You have a son?”

  “Nicola,” he says, shooting Taylor and Matthew an apologetic look before stepping out in the hall and closing the door halfway. “I can explain.”

  How many breakups have started with “I can explain”? How many times has the explanation never really mattered?

  “Why did you lie?” I croak, shaking, feeling like I’m being fileted.

  “I didn’t lie,” he says. “I just didn’t tell you…I didn’t bring it up, I was going to but—”

  “But what?”

  He swallows hard and lowers his voice, “Because I did to Taylor and Matthew what Phil did to you and Ava. Because I wanted you to trust me before you knew about things I’ve done and the person I was.”

  I suck in my breath, trying to find an ounce of strength to turn away.

  “I did trust you,” I tell him. The words crumble out of my mouth. “But I don’t anymore.”

  I step backward and he grabs for my hand and I’m ripping myself out of his reach. I run right into my apartment and slam the door, locking it. Bram knocks on it viciously, calling for me, but I don’t want to see him, I can’t see him.

  And I can’t be in here.

  I yank on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grab my purse and I’m opening the door. Bram stands there, a face etched with panic, pain, and I push him out of the way.

  “Don’t, Nicola!” he yells at me.

  But I’m running.

  I’m already gone.

  ***

  I have nowhere to go.

  I’m on the street, walking fast, trying to get to the nearest bus stop while texting Steph with shaking hands.

  I need to talk to you now. Something happened.

  What? Her response is immediate. I’m still at the Lion.

  I’ll come there. Catching the bus.

  I’d come get you but I had too many beerz. Is this about Bram?

  I don’t answer that and the minute I walk into the bar, she sees it on my face. I haven’t been crying though. I’m not exactly even sure what to feel except that terrible, dreadful realization that your life, the one you were starting to love, will never be the same.

  All of it, wiped away.

  “Oh, honey,” Steph says,
getting off of her barstool and wrapping her arms around me. “You’re shaking, what happened?”

  Beside her, sitting down, is Linden, staring at me curiously. Sometimes he looks just like his brother.

  All of a sudden a wave of rage washes over me.

  I point my finger at him. “Did you know?”

  Linden looks bewildered. “What? Know what?” He looks to Steph for help but she’s just as confused.

  “Did you know about Bram?”

  His eyes narrow. “What about Bram? What did he do?”

  “You know, that he has a fucking kid!” I practically spit out the words. They sound venomous coming from my mouth, like it could poison me. “He’s a father.”

  Linden’s eyes go wide. Steph’s seem about to fall out of her head.

  “So, did you know?” I go on, feeling angrier by the second. “Was I the only one in the dark?”

  “Wait, wait,” Steph interjects, putting her hand out in front of me. “Kid? Father? Are you pregnant again?”

  I glare at her. “No! I mean Bram has a kid, a freaking child, with someone else. His name is Matthew. He looks just like him. I just fucking met him in his apartment, visiting hours with his mom or I don’t know what the fuck. What the fuck?”

  Linden is slowly shaking his head. “No, that’s not possible. He doesn’t. I would have known.” He looks at Steph. “We would have known.”

  “Would you have?” I counter. “Does anyone have any idea what kind of past Bram had?”

  “His kid and the baby mama were in his apartment?” Steph repeats, looking freaked out. “Why?”

  I throw my hands out. “How should I know? I thought maybe Linden would.”

  “No,” Linden says adamantly. “If Bram had a child this whole time, I would have known about it. Are you sure he didn’t know? He could have just found out.”

  I want to collapse onto the ground, but I manage to lean against the stool instead. It’s only then that I notice the three of us are the only people in the bar aside from James who was talking to our other bartender, Sandra, in the corner.

  “He’s known. Oh, he’s known. He’s alluded to it before. He’s talked about this girl, this Taylor, as the only girl he loved, a girl he made a huge mistake with. Guess that mistake was Matthew…” My heart aches. “Or the mistake could have been leaving her.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath in through my nose. “Those damn stupid socks.”