His Eternal Flame

by Valentine, Layla

  I shove my hands deep into my pockets, aware that my body, of its own accord, seems to keep swaying toward her.

  “What about friends? I bet you have a lot.”

  “The people I work with.” She half-smiles.

  “And a boyfriend?”

  Violet blinks fast. “Oh. No.”

  “That’s…surprising.”

  “Is it? In this town?”

  “Everyone thinks their city is the worst dating spot in the whole world.”

  “If Honolulu’s not the worst, it’s definitely one of the finalists. What about you? Do you…?”

  I let her trail off, enjoying the anticipation in her eyes. Maybe I’m a fucking dreamer, but there’s something here. The chemistry that I thought died years ago; not only has it not disappeared, it’s stronger.

  “No,” I simply answer.

  “Ah.” Violet nods, taking a quiet moment to herself before speaking again. “No girlfriend or anything like that.”

  “Never.”

  Unexpectedly, she looks sad. “But you must have met girls in the army.”

  “Yeah, but…” I shrug.

  I don’t need to finish that. Violet knows what I’m trying to say. Even as far back as high school, I knew serious relationships would never be my thing. I’ve seen how easy it is for people to get locked down in a situation they later discover they didn’t really want. That’s not the life for me.

  Ironically, it has nothing to do with childhood trauma or some shit like that. My parents, far as I can tell, are pretty happy with each other. And I’m pretty happy on my own, enjoying each rising sun—with the occasional company of a pretty girl.

  “Same old Sean,” Violet whispers.

  At first, it sounds like a compliment, but as she keeps looking at me, something mysterious shifting in her eyes, that becomes questionable.

  “Violet…” I clear my throat, not sure what to say.

  Before I can figure myself out, a petite brunette comes up and touches Violet’s shoulder.

  “Someone knocked Octavia’s Male Nude Number Two down,” she whispers.

  “Oh my God,” Violet groans. “Is it okay?”

  “A little bit chipped off the end of its…well…” The girl looks over at me.

  I grin. “It’s a good thing size doesn’t matter, right?”

  She snorts, and Violet laughs a bit as well, though she also buries her face in her hands.

  “Sean, sorry. I need to go perform some damage control. Whoever first thought of serving wine at gallery opens was an idiot.”

  The brunette nods eagerly, just as Violet touches my arm.

  “Find me before you leave. Or I’ll find you.” She starts walking backward. “Just don’t go without saying goodbye. Promise?”

  I stare deep into her eyes. “Promise.”

  She and the other woman slip into the crowd, leaving me with an odd feeling I can’t pinpoint. Unease? Loneliness?

  It’s impossible to say, but there’s a cooler of beer on the far wall, and I’m sure after one or two of those I’ll be right as rain.

  Chapter 4

  Violet

  The figurine’s, uh…situation is not as bad as I expected. Taking it into the office, Kaila and I inspect the damage under the bright lights above my desk.

  “Huh,” I say. “It is just the tip. Okay. I’ve seen worse after guys had a few drinks too many.”

  Kaila giggles through her fingers. “Maybe there’s a pill that will help.”

  “Being under the public gaze must not be his turn-on.”

  “Maybe he’s more of a voyeur,” Kaila giggles.

  “Now you’re talking,” I remark, surprised at her change in tone. “When did you get so dirty?”

  She blushes and shrugs.

  Taking a moment to sit down in my office chair, I sigh.

  “We’re going to fix it. Just sand down the end a little bit and it’ll be good as new.”

  Kaila’s eyes go wide. “Won’t Octavia notice?”

  “Not if we sell this thing tonight.”

  She’s sheet-white. And with good reason. Octavia has been one of the most popular artists in Honolulu for years. She’s also a shark, a shrewd businesswoman who fights for what she wants. I thank God she’s not here tonight.

  “It does already have rough edges,” Kaila slowly says. “No one would notice.”

  The other thing about Octavia is that she sells really well. And the thing about me is I need money. I might own my own house and business, but that just means I have more bills to account for. Add a baby on the way (soon, hopefully) and I can’t afford to not have money on the mind.

  “Here’s some sandpaper.” Kaila picks a small piece from the stack of materials along the wall. Just as she picks up the figurine, I realize how crazy I’m being.

  “Wait! Stop.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “This is insane. We can’t do this.”

  Kaila audibly sighs. “Good. I agree.”

  I peek at her. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because you’re my boss. But, you know, if anyone found out we did this—”

  “I’d be ruined.”

  She gulps and nods.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not myself right now.”

  Kaila leans heavily against the desk, looking at me with concern.

  “Because of waiting to hear from the sperm bank?”

  “That’s actually the least stressful thing right now. My mom didn’t take the news so well, and you know that guy I was just talking to?”

  Her eyes sparkle. “He’s cute. If you like redheads.”

  “I happen to.” I lean back in my chair and toss my feet on the desk. “He was my best friend in high school. I had a giant crush on him back then, and I haven’t seen him since prom night.”

  “Dang,” she breathes. “Do you think you might still like him?”

  I remember the way my stomach fluttered when Sean handed me the sunflowers and our hands brushed. I look at the sunflowers laying on the edge of the desk. After all these years, he remembered how much I love them.

  “I don’t know. It wouldn’t matter if I did. Sean was a womanizer before most kids even know what the word means, and I don’t get the impression that he’s changed.”

  “It would be so romantic, though. You know, if you did end up getting together after all these years.”

  “I can’t think about that. That’s not—it’s not on the agenda.”

  Kaila frowns. “Hey, what are we going to do about Octavia’s statue?”

  “Do you know where the guy who knocked it over is?”

  “Gone.”

  “Figures. He’s probably halfway to the next gallery, where he’ll barf all over a canvas.”

  I drop my feet to the floor. I wore a dress and heels for the special occasion, and my soles are already aching.

  “The good thing is, Octavia’s so popular that the piece might still sell anyway. Let’s go ahead and take it back out there.”

  Kaila nods, carefully lifting the naked man. I stand as well, but my cell, left on the desk, starts ringing.

  At the number, my heart jumps. Could it be…?

  “Um, you go right ahead.” I can’t even look at Kaila, I’m suddenly so nervous. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  The second she’s out the door, I answer the call, afraid I’ll miss it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Natasha calling from First Fertility in Los Angeles. I’m looking for Violet Powers.”

  “This is her.”

  My heart beats faster, and I resume my seat. A second later and I’m back up, pacing around the room.

  “Miss Powers, I have some news to share with you. We would love to supply you with the donor you need, but I see here that you live in Honolulu. Is that correct?”

  My tongue won’t seem to work right. “Y-yes.”

  “In order for you to undergo the procedure, you would need to travel to our clinic in Los Angeles.”

  I choke o
n my next inhale.

  “Wait…you can’t just, uh, ship it to me? And then have a doctor do it here?”

  “Unfortunately, no, I’m sorry.”

  The strength leaves my body, and I lean against my desk. This can’t be happening. A sperm donor was my plan—my only plan.

  “Miss Powers?”

  “I’m still here,” I weakly answer.

  “Shall I schedule you for a visit? There’s a chance that one appointment is all it will take.”

  One appointment.

  I don’t have the time for even one appointment, unless it happens right in Honolulu. A round-trip ticket to California would wipe me of my savings, making it impossible to then pay for the insemination.

  I’ve hit a wall, and there’s no way around it.

  Finding the next words becomes painful.

  “I, no…don’t schedule me in. If coming to L.A. is really the only option, then I’m going to have to wait.”

  “Are you sure? We can fit you in next month.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  I need more than a month. The gallery is doing well, but not that well. I could save up the money for a ticket in a couple months, but then I’d have to be gone from work. With Kaila as my only employee, that can’t happen. But in order to hire someone else, I need to be making more money. A lot more.

  I’ve already talked with Kaila about the month or two I would take off when the baby came. Since she’s agreed to work extra that whole time, I can’t ask her to do anything else for me.

  With my stomach twisting, I realize that I’ve put myself in this position. In a sense, I’m in charge of my own destiny, owning my own home and business. But if I can’t take two days to myself, am I really as free as I thought?

  “All right then,” the woman on the other end of the line says. “I’m sorry this isn’t working out right now.”

  “Yeah,” I glumly respond. “Me too.”

  “Please notify us as soon as you can schedule a trip here, and we will get you all set up.”

  Don’t hold your breath.

  We say goodbye and hang up. I should go back out to the gallery. Sean’s waiting for me, and there are dozens of people I still need to greet and schmooze with, but my legs are lead.

  Mom’s face comes back to me, the way she pursed her head and shook her lips making my stomach coil. God, won’t she love to hear my plans have been foiled?

  My fingers tighten around my cellphone, and I even pull my arm back a little bit, but I stop myself before I lose all control and hurl the device across the room.

  Not letting myself rage, I get upset instead. My lower lip trembles, and my eyes burn. I want to say it’s not fair, but I’m not that stupid. I haven’t believed life was fair since my dad walked out the door when I was ten years old and never came back.

  The world’s a bitch, and it’s up to each and every person to keep their head above water.

  Taking long, even breaths to calm myself down, I set my phone on the desk. So I’m not having a baby this year. Fine. That doesn’t mean it won’t happen someday. Next year, things might be different. The gallery could grow, and I might be able to hire the help that will allow me to take more time off.

  It’s something to look forward to.

  Dabbing under my eyes to make sure there’s no smudged makeup there, I start for the door, which Kaila left open a crack. A noise on the other side makes me pause.

  “Hello?” I call.

  There’s no answer, but I know I heard something—someone.

  My face heats up. Apparently, what was supposed to be a private conversation ended up not being that at all.

  Great. Now, not only am I not getting the baby I planned on this year, but someone in this gallery knows all about my personal failings.

  At this very moment, my life could not get any worse.

  Chapter 5

  Sean

  My ears buzz as I slip back into the gallery. All around, people talk and laugh, enjoying themselves. Not me. There’s a heavy weight in my gut, and I don’t know what to do about it.

  Violet wants a baby.

  Who would have thought? Looking at her life from the outside, it seems like she has it all. A business. The freedom of being single. Give me those two things and I’ll spend the rest of my life in absolute bliss.

  Except… Thinking about it some more, I see the appeal of having a kid running around. Someone to teach things to. Someone to bring you food and drive you to the doctor when you’re old—that kind of shit.

  As I stand by myself in the corner, pretending to be intensely interested in a wood carving, it makes more sense. In some ways, Violet and I are alike. We like to stand on our own, do things however we please. The few times I’ve thought about being a dad, the idea of having a wife clinging to me as well made me want to dry-heave.

  For Violet, relationships are probably also unconventional. Her dad walked out on her and her mom a few years before we met, and I saw the effect that had on her. If twenty-nine-year old Violet is anything like eighteen-year-old Violet, she doesn’t trust people easily.

  Of course she’d go to a sperm bank before a man. It’s classic Violet.

  “Hey,” that familiar voice says.

  I look up and find the subject of my thoughts pale, her hands clenched tight together.

  “Sorry I disappeared like that. There was a bit of an emergency.”

  “It’s fine.” I smile. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” She won’t look at me.

  “You sure?” I stare at Violet’s face until her eyes come to mine.

  “Yes,” she forcefully answers. “It’s just a stressful night. There’s a lot going on.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes narrow slightly.

  “Can I talk to you?” I ask, heart thumping away.

  Since I overheard Violet’s phone call while looking for the bathroom, an idea has been forming in my mind. At first I told myself it was stupid, but now I’m starting to wonder if it’s anything but.

  Could be that it’s fucking brilliant.

  “What’s up?”

  She’s trying to make her voice light and carefree, but failing. Violet was always a shitty actress.

  “It’s personal.” I send a purposeful look in the direction of the hallway her office is down.

  “Okay…”

  With a curt nod, I lead the way and go right into her office. Violet stands in the open doorway, confusion on her face.

  “How did you know this is my—”

  “I heard your phone call.” I turn to face her, and, somehow, she blanches even more.

  “You were eavesdropping on me?”

  “Accidentally. I was looking for the bathroom.”

  Violet’s mouth falls open, and little noises that sound like the beginning of words escape it, but nothing full comes out.

  I step closer, hand outstretched. “Let me be your sperm donor.”

  “What?!”

  She shakes her head, looking at me like I’m crazy before glancing over her shoulder. A large burst of group laughter travels down the hall. Violet steps all the way into the office and closes the door but stays with her back almost against it.

  “Think about it,” I push. “It’s the perfect situation.”

  She holds her hands up, silently telling me to shut up.

  “I don’t know what you think you heard, Sean, but I’m not looking for some guy to screw.”

  “You’re looking for a sperm donor.”

  The room becomes quiet.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “And it sounded like it’s not going to work out with whoever you had lined up.”

  Violet’s eyebrow twitches.

  “A sperm bank in Los Angeles. I, um…I don’t have the time to travel there right now.”

  “So let me be your donor.”

  Another silence passes, but this one is different. She’s finally thinking about my offer.

  “You mean go to a
doctor and have it done?”

  “Or we just do it the old-fashioned way.”

  Her blue eyes grow round.

  Now, it’s my turn to hold up my hands and ask her to wait.

  “It’s perfect. Just think about it. With me, it’s free. You won’t have to pay a cent. And it’s not like we’re strangers.”

  Violet rubs her teeth across her bottom lip. She’s still looking at me like I just broke out of the insane asylum, but there’s something new there, too. She’s softening.

  “Why would you do this?” she asks, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

  Do I give her the truth, or some watered-down version of it?

  “I…I want to make up for letting us drift apart.”

  Violet’s shoulders sag. “Oh, Sean… You don’t have to apologize for that. I didn’t stay in touch with you, either.”

  “But I do feel bad.”

  I step closer to her, and when I take her warm hand in mine, she doesn’t resist.

  Wanting to make up for my fuck-up is only part of the reason. Though I haven’t seen Violet in years, she’s played a part in dozens of late-night fantasies. I’ve always wondered what she’d be like in bed.

  And now, the perfect opportunity to find out has fallen into my lap.

  “No strings attached,” I promise. “We’ll do it until you’re pregnant. Although I probably won’t need more than one time.” I grin.

  She cocks her head. “And why is that?”

  “In the army, they called me One-Shot Sean.”

  Her eyes bug out of her face. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because you…” Her eyes drift down my torso, making heat ripple across my skin.

  “No. I was a good shot behind the barrel.”

  “Oh.” She blushes and nails her gaze to the floor.

  I was more than a ‘good shot’. I was one of the best snipers out there. But that’s not a lighthearted subject. My time in the service, though it only ended a few weeks ago, is over. I’ve buried it and committed to moving on.

  “How about this?” I drop her hand and step back, giving her some space to show her this is still her choice. I’m not pressuring her at all. “We make a bet.”