“You can think about it…” he goes on.
“No,” I say and he looks shocked. “Sorry, but…no. Move into your empty apartment? Why? Why would you do that? Why not rent it out for thousands of dollars a month, which is what I’m sure the rent is.”
“But I don’t want the rent to be that high,” he says.
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” I tell him. “You have a mortgage on that place and I know it costs a pretty penny.” And it doesn’t really jive with everything I’ve known about Bram. He’s grown up with money. He spends it like a gambler who thinks he has nothing to lose. Everything about Bram screams, “I’m here to make money and spend money!” Letting Ava and I live in his complex for free would completely mess up those plans.
It doesn’t make any sense and I sure as hell don’t like it.
“You let me worry about matters of money,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. I notice his perpetual tan, his skin a nice honey bronze that I don’t think is fake and makes me wonder where on earth he’s gotten color like that. His forearms are large, muscular and toned. Forearms are my weakness. As are hands. He’s got good hands too, big and strong.
He catches me staring and smiles, just a little. “Please, this isn’t anything weird.”
“Like hell it isn’t.” I scoff, tearing my eyes away. “This is an insanely generous offer and I have a hard time believing you aren’t coming from a despicable place.”
He flinches. “Wow. Just how poorly do you think of me?”
“I don’t think of you at all,” I fire back.
He mouths, “Ouch.” For a moment I feel bad but then I remember him pulling that chick into the bushes and how humiliated I felt, and I don’t feel so bad anymore.
“What do you want, really?” I ask him. “Just be honest.”
He throws his hands up. “I am being honest. I want to help you and your little one. Sometimes people do things because they can help and because they want to.”
I ain’t buying it. My eyes narrow at him. “What do you want in exchange?”
“Nothing,” he says, sounding strangely sincere.
“Right. As if I’m not supposed to be your sex slave or something and, like, suck you off anytime you want. Nothing is for free.” Boy did I know that.
He grins. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know what to do with my dick even if you tried.”
“I most certainly would!” I blurt out, unable to help myself. I regret my words immediately.
There’s one hell of a long, mortifying second as he slowly raises his dark brow, a twinkle in his eye. “Oh really?” he muses, smile dancing on his lips.
Shit.
I cross my arms. “You know what I mean.”
“Not really. But you could show me.”
“You aren’t selling me on this at all, you know.”
He rolls his eyes and gets up. In another lifetime, a naïve one full of meaningless sex and yellow-brick roads, I would have been completely enamored with how damn handsome this man is. Because, really, he is. But in this lifetime, the short stick I’ve been handed (I haven’t had a long stick in a long time, if you know what I mean), his good looks and hot bod and slick suits mean nothing to me.
“Look,” he says. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m not just trying to be a nice guy.”
And the truth comes out. I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re finally getting somewhere.
“If I take in a low-income resident,” he explains, “someone who can’t find affordable housing in the city, then I get a big tax break from the government.”
“Well, why didn’t you just tell me that to begin with?”
He gives me a lazy shrug. “Thought I could earn some extra brownie points with you.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
“I don’t want to live next door to a bitch, I guess.”
I actually laugh at that. “Fair enough.”
He sticks his hands in his pockets and peers down at me. “So, what do you say? Do you think you and Ava will be comfortable in a nice building, south of Market? Rent free, take the time to get a job, get a handle on things?”
It sounds too good to be true. I hesitate.
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” he says. He looks at his watch. “I better be on my way. You do have my card right? You didn’t spit on it and throw it out?”
“I still have it.”
“Good. Because if I don’t hear from you over the next few days, I will have to find someone else. I don’t want to have to show up here unannounced again. And I’m guessing you’re not about to give me your phone number either.”
“I’ll call you,” I tell him and this time I know I will.
I just don’t know what I’m going to say.
***
After Bram leaves, I take my time to think about it. Actually, I don’t take that much time at all. Ava wakes up from her nap and though she’s lively and happy as ever – as if last night never even happened – she also asks if she’ll have to get the needle tomorrow. I can’t lie to her. I tell her the needle has medicine that will keep her strong and healthy, so she can turn into a big girl. She seems to understand but…it’s still something I can’t wrap my head around.
Giving her the injection earlier was also a challenge and if Steph wasn’t with me, I don’t think I could have done it. It doesn’t seem right putting your child in pain, even though it’s the only way from now on, even if it’s what will help her in the end.
But as proud as I am, as much as I want to turn down Bram’s offer, I honestly can’t. For Ava’s sake, I can’t. My pride must be swallowed if she’s going to have a shot at life. Living rent-free would save me $1000 a month. If I put that money into food and medicine, we could get by. It wouldn’t be fun, but I could do it. And that’s before I even get a job. I know I can’t afford to be too picky about that either, but I decided to give it another week just to see if I really can shoot for something that pays well and in my field. It’s a longshot, but I have to try.
I make us both some sliced avocado on whole-grain bread (the doctor said the way I’d been feeding her – low in sugar – was excellent and to keep it up. It’s nice to know that at least I didn’t bring it upon her). We sit down on the couch and I read a picture book to Ava between bites. Somewhere in the building I can hear a couple arguing loudly. The neighbor above me has a shower – the pipes rattle the walls. To think I could be out of this place, one foot out of the mess, one foot toward my future.
I just really hope there’s nothing else that is owed for this. That Bram doesn’t expect anything from me. I hadn’t really thought I’d be his sex slave. I just wanted to poke fun at his manwhore ways, but even so I have a hard time believing that I won’t be in debt to him in the end. The thought of owing something, anything, to a man like that is a scary one.
And I hate that I find it kind of exciting as well.
I stare at my phone on the coffee table. I could call Steph and get her opinion, but in the end, it’s not going to change anything. I know already what has to be done.
I fish out the card, pick up my phone and dial.
“Hello, Bram?”
***
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Steph says to me as she walks into my near empty apartment and hands me a giant cup of coffee she just picked up from Bluebottle. I slurp it back, even though it burns my lips and throat as we survey the place.
It’s Saturday morning and just over a week after I told Bram I accepted his offer to move into his apartment complex. My landlord was angry at my short notice but he was angry to begin with, so that didn’t make much difference. With Steph, Kayla, and sometimes Linden, we were able to pack up my apartment really fast. Even though it’s a small place, I was surprised how much junk I’d collected over the years. I think there’s a sentimental hoarder somewhere inside me but it was very freeing to give a lot of it away. Clean slate.