The Proposal

by R. R. Banks

  I knocked on the door, but he didn't answer. I held a cup in each hand, so I had to use my pinky to put in the code to open the door. When I did, however, I found the office empty. I walked out and headed toward the small lounge where Gabriel would sometimes go in the morning to grab a piece of fruit or second or third cup of coffee. A cluster of ladies who seemed to only exist in the lounge, were gathered around the coffee machine, sipping at their cups like they contained their lifeblood. I heard them giggle conspiratorially as I walked in.

  "Looking for Mr. Reed?" one of them asked.

  "Um, yeah, actually."

  "I wouldn't expect him to be in any time soon," another added.

  "Why?"

  "The museum gala was last night," the first said. "That's always a long night for him."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  I hadn't even heard Gabriel talking about the gala.

  "What is his record?" one of the women asked the others. "Three in one night?"

  "Three women?" I asked.

  I was trying not to sound like it bothered me. I didn't want them to know it meant anything to me, but I was starting to feel like I couldn't breathe.

  The ladies giggled again and sipped their coffee.

  "Don't worry," one of them said. "You'll get used to working for a playboy. At least none of them have wandered in here in the last few months."

  I managed a shaky smile and started back out of the lounge.

  "She really needs to get herself together," I heard one of the women mutter as I left. "Edna always knew what he was up to."

  What he was up to.

  Those words reverberated through my mind as I tossed the cinnamon rolls onto Gabriel's desk and left the coffee to get cold. Then I scribbled a note that I was taking a personal day, stuck it on my desk and rushed out of the office. And as I splashed cold water on my face and willed myself not to cry, I chastised myself for the way I was feeling. Those words cut into me deeply and unexpectedly, but Gabriel had never made any promises to me. We never ever discussed his sex life. This was just a contract. Nothing else. And it controlled my body, not his. He could do anything he wanted.

  I was still struggling with the thought of Gabriel going to the gala without telling me and possibly bringing one or more women home with him when Jess came over that evening. Just as she had promised, she was carrying two large boxes of popcorn and had gotten a jumpstart on the sleepover by wearing her pajamas.

  "What's wrong?" she asked when she saw my glum expression.

  "Gabriel might have gone to the museum gala last night with another woman."

  "Another woman?"

  "Or three."

  "A museum gala on a Thursday? Don't galas usually happen on the weekend?"

  "That is not what I meant for you to focus on in that story," I pointed out.

  "You're right. I'm sorry. You're upset that he didn't invite you?"

  I sighed and reached for a handful of popcorn as she poured it from the bag and into a bowl.

  "It's not just that," I said.

  The freshly popped corn was delicious and I grabbed the entire bowl.

  "You might want to slow down a bit," she said, her eyes tracing down to where my tight tank top accentuated the little bump that had given me such happiness earlier in the morning. "I didn't want to say anything but...bikini season is coming."

  "So is my second trimester."

  She stared at me blankly.

  "What?"

  I sighed again, taking the bowl with me as I made my way on a walk into the living room that was considerably larger than my entire apartment had been.

  "I'm pregnant," I said.

  I was relieved the moment the words came out of my mouth, but I also felt a rush of emotion.

  "You're pregnant?" she asked. "How could you not tell me? Is Gabriel the father?"

  "Yes," I said. "But it's not what you think. Well, actually, it's exactly what you think. But it's not. Sit down. I have a story to tell you."

  Jess was still holding the same piece of popcorn when I finished. I couldn't tell by her expression what she was feeling.

  "I can't believe you didn't tell me," she finally said.

  Her voice was even and calm, not the squeal I had expected. I realized in that moment how much I had hurt her.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I know I shouldn't have waited this long."

  "You lied to me, Cherry. You've never lied to me before."

  "I'm sorry," I repeated. "I didn't know what you would think or say. I didn't want to change the way you look at me."

  "You're my best friend. I love you. Nothing would ever change the way that I look at you. But you should have trusted me. You can't go through this alone." She gathered me in her arms and I hugged her tightly, so thankful for her existence in that moment. After a while, she eased me back and looked directly into my face. "And you're right. Don't get wrapped up in him, Cherry. A man like that isn't going to cause you anything but pain."

  "Maybe," I said.

  "No, not maybe. If he's still seeing other women and hasn't changed how he feels about you when you are carrying his child, it's a contract. That is it. It’s business. It doesn't mean you can't be friends and that you can’t raise an amazing child together. But you can't think about anything else. Don't give him more than he's willing to give you."

  Chapter Nine

  Gabriel

  My father looked suspicious when he came into his office and I was sitting there waiting for him. It wasn't wholly unexpected. Monroe Reed wasn't known for being particularly flexible or immediately offering his trust to anyone. He was the poster child for the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction from one generation to the next. While my great-grandfather had been a hard worker, consumed by his career much like my father, my grandfather was adventurous and playful, and seen as outlandish in many ways. My father grew up seeing this, but even as a child, Monroe was known to be serious. Witnessing his father's antics had convinced him he didn't want to be anything like him.

  "Hello, Gabriel," he said as he came into the office and immediately crossed to the bar.

  A rousing endorsement.

  "Dad. Good to see you."

  "Can I say the same about you? I hope you haven't come to talk about taking over the company again."

  "Actually, I have," I said.

  "Gabriel," he said with a long-suffering sigh. "I thought I made myself very clear about this situation. Until you are able to prove to me that you take your responsibilities seriously and have settled down, I can't, at least not in good conscience, give you control of the company. I'm not going to have this discussion again, and I'm not going to change my mind."

  "I'm not here to try to change your mind," I said.

  "Oh, really?" he said. "Then can I assume you are here to admit that you aren't the right person for the position and throw in the towel?"

  "No," I said. I was trying not to let his attitude bother me and take away the excitement of the announcement that I was actually there to make. "I'm here to tell you that you can start planning your retirement party. But if possible, I would avoid late February and the beginning of March, because that's when the baby is due."

  It seemed to take a moment for what I had said to really sink in. Then the glass came away from his mouth and he looked at me, his expression changing.

  "The baby?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said. "I'm going to be a father."

  Suddenly, I got a glimpse of the father I remembered from the summers of my childhood. Before the success had taken his seriousness to the extreme it reached later in life. I was reminded of the carefree days my family had spent together at our lake house. That place had always seemed magical to me. When we were there, it was like nothing else existed. Everything was always good there and nothing ever went wrong. My father was always the first one to jump into the water when we arrived. He would let out a laugh that seemed to come from the deepest part of him as he threw himself off the pier into the lake.


  I got to hear that laugh again now as he put down his glass and crossed the office to me. I stood up and he gathered me into a tight hug.

  "Congratulations! This is unbelievable. I'm so happy for you, son. How far along?"

  "Three months," I said. "We wanted to wait to tell anyone until this point."

  "That's understandable. You know, back when I was born, sometimes people would just wait until the baby was born. The mother would start wearing baggier dresses and then stop having company, and then they announced the birth. I think it was harder on the lady that way. No support." His eyes widened. "Speaking of the lady...who is she? Do I know her?"

  I carefully considered my answer to that question. Part of me felt like it was too personal to talk about Cherry, especially given the circumstances. I could just create a relationship and then make up excuses as to why he never got to meet her. But that felt wrong. I couldn't disrespect her like that. My loyalty to her had only increased since finding out she was carrying my child and I didn't want to do anything that could hurt her, regardless of the actual nature of our relationship.

  "Yes, actually," I said. "It's Cherry. Cherry Spencer. Brent's sister."

  I saw a flash of emotion in my father’s eyes and I knew he was going through many of the same feelings I had. By the time Brent died, my father and I had become distant and strained, but I knew it was hard for him to see how much pain I went through after he passed. But now there was something to be happy about.

  "That's amazing," he said. "It's like it was meant to be all along." He walked around the desk and settled into his chair. "So, tell me. When's the wedding?"

  I was thankfully sitting down again because I felt my knees buckle out from under me. I leaned back in the chair and cleared my throat.

  "What?" I asked.

  "When's the wedding?" he asked, pulling his planner toward him. Though I had an assistant who kept track of everything for me, my father was insistent about keeping his calendar organized this way as well. It was the way he had always done it, and he wasn't about to stop. "I need to make sure I can get everything arranged in time. Unless, of course, her family wants to handle it."

  "The wedding?" I asked, still back at that.

  "Yes," he said, glancing at his planner again. "I assume we're going to be hosting it. I heard that her father died some time ago and it's just her mother now. I wouldn't want to put any pressure on her."

  "I don't understand," I said.

  My father looked at me quizzically.

  "I mean...you are getting married, aren't you? Gabriel, when I said I wanted to see that you had grown and matured and insisted you have a child, I meant a family. I expected you to get married and have a child. It's alright to get it a little backwards, but that is what you're intending, right?"

  I suddenly felt panicked. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought about this. He was staring at me with his pen poised over his calendar, and I did what any man would do.

  I backpedaled like hell.

  "Of course, we're getting married," I said. "I'm just not sure about the details yet."

  My father let out a relieved breath.

  "That's fine," he said. "These things can take some time. And with all the excitement you've already had, I'm sure it's been a bit harder to pull it together. But you'll want to hurry it along at least a little. Society will look away a little bit when a baby's birth shaves a few months from your first nine months of marriage, but we don't want your wedding pictures admired for how round the bride is."

  I forced a chuckle and nodded.

  "I'm sure that's not what she would want."

  "Then leave the details to me. I'll make some calls. We'll have the best professionals put together something for next month."

  "Great," I said, standing up. "Well, I wanted to stop by and give you the news. I should probably go check on Cherry."

  "Give her my best," he said. "And let her know that I look forward to meeting her again."

  "I will."

  "Have a great day, Gabriel. And congratulations, again."

  "Thanks. You, too."

  The boost I had seen in my father had been exciting for a brief moment, but now I walked out of his office feeling like there was a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I had come in here thinking I had everything figured out. I already convinced her to have my baby. Now I had to convince her to marry me, too. Somehow, I felt like that was going to be a harder task.

  "You need me to what?"

  "It won't be a real marriage," I said. "Just one to convince my father we are a happy family and that everything will be good after the baby's born."

  "Well that makes me feel so much better about it," Cherry said.

  "Everything between us would stay the same as it is now. We will be married for an appropriate length of time, enough to satisfy my father, and then we will have an amicable divorce. A quiet and tasteful divorce looks much better than a bachelor in his late thirties and forties."

  I wasn't entirely convinced of this myself, but I had to go with it. It really was my only option, especially now that she was already pregnant.

  Cherry looked at me as if she was stunned. Finally, she spoke again.

  “Anthony proposed to me by shaping sugar packets while we were eating breakfast in a nasty truck stop diner. He tried to convince me that he loved but I know now we were only at the farthest restaurant from humanity, so he could hide me from his real fiancée. I never would have thought that in my life I would be proposed to twice, and that the sugar packet ploy would be the better of them.”

  "It's not a proposal," I said.

  "Oh, good," she said. "I don't even get a proposal. I get a marriage command. Forget the story books, that's the real fairy tale."

  "That's not what I meant," I said. "Look, I know that this is a lot…"

  "Isn't that exactly what you told me about having the baby?" she asked. "Didn't you tell me the baby was all you needed and that was the only major decision I was going to have to make?"

  "I didn't know he expected me to get married," I said.

  "And why does it matter even if he does? Why are you so scared of your father?"

  "I'm not scared of my father," I said.

  "Well, you're certainly desperate to please him. So what if he says he thinks you should be married? You're an adult. Don't you think you should be able to make your own damn decisions? Why do you need to fall all over yourself to make a life choice just so he'll approve of you?"

  "My family worked extremely hard to build that company," I said. "I don't want anyone else controlling it. If that means that I must convince him I'm a good family man and that I'll be able to leave it as a legacy for my children, then that's what I'm going to do."

  "I feel like you're letting him push you around. Why don’t you stand up for yourself?"

  I was starting to feel angry, but I also understood the questions she was asking. I would have asked them of anyone else as well.

  "I did stand up for myself," I said. "I told him I was more than capable of taking over the company and that I expected to inherit it just as he had always intended. But he said that wanting to be able to control the company and make money wasn't enough, that I had embarrassed him, and the rest of the company and I needed to prove I was the type of person who deserved to be in that role."

  "Who is he to decide what type of person you are?"

  "He's the head of company I want to control," I said. "He's also my father."

  I drew in a breath and tried to let it cool the flames of anger that had begun in me.

  "You should have seen him, Cherry. He looked so happy. I haven't seen him look that happy as long as I can remember. He smiled in a way I haven't seen since my mother was alive. This isn't just about the company. I know I said it is but ignore that. Just think about him and what it would mean to him. This is his one chance to have a grandchild."

  Cherry

  "This wasn't part of the arrangement, Gabriel."

  "I know. We
can make changes to the contract and I will make sure that the eventual divorce agreement is very favorable towards you."

  I felt tears burning in my eyes.

  "This isn't what I imagined when I thought about my happily ever after," I said. "I wanted to be swept off my feet the next time I got engaged, not used as a bargaining chip."

  "I know, Cherry. And you deserve that. Trust me, I believe that more than anyone. And someday you will have that. I just need you to do this for me now."

  He sounded almost desperate, the emotion that he was feeling evident in his voice.

  "And I'm going to be expected to just look the other way when you go out with other women?"

  He looked at me quizzically.

  "What do you mean?" he asked. "I haven't been seeing anyone."

  "Don't lie to me, Gabriel. You can go ahead and lie to everyone else, but I'm the one whose life you're manipulating right now, so you need to be honest with me."

  "Cherry, I am being honest with you. I haven't been out with any other women since you started working at the office."

  "What about the museum gala?"

  "What about it?"

  "You didn't tell me you were going."

  "I didn't feel like I needed to. It's just a boring benefit I have to go to every year."

  "And all the women you sleep with while you're there?"

  "Who told you that? Women in the office?"

  "Yes."

  "Those women don't know when to keep their damn mouths shut. They live off gossip. They are like the world's most miserable weeds. They thrive off gossip, sunlight, air, and coffee. And sometimes I think that air may even be optional."

  "I'm not sure I like you talking about women like that."

  "I'm not talking about women like that. I'm talking about those women like that. They love anything that sounds even the slightest bit salacious and they will spread it as fast as they can, embellishing as they go, if it will get them more attention."

  "If they bother you so much, why do you keep them at the office? You could just fire them and then you wouldn't have to deal with them or their gossip anymore."