by Jw Grodt
Brad dreamt again about having sex with Nicole. Jared suddenly walked in on them. He awoke with a start and sat up in bed with his heart pounding and a cold sweat washing over him. He went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water, then looked at the clock on the vanity—a round-faced, chrome-framed design with the Corvette logo in the center, a long ago gift from Julie. It was just shy of four-thirty. He usually didn’t get up for another hour, but he was wide-awake.
Later, after getting himself dressed for work, he sat in the kitchen drinking coffee, deep in thought. This woman is slowly driving me out of my mind and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it! After his second cup, an idea struck him. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? There might be a way out of his predicament after all. He could shake Little Miss Sweet Cheeks and preserve his relationship with his son: all it would take was a little money.
Brad waited until he knew Maggie would be at the office and then called her to say he would be coming in later in the day. Then he headed downtown to visit an old friend. Twenty-five minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of April Bennett’s real estate company. Her personal assistant, a young girl who looked barely out of high school, escorted him to April’s office. April, phone at her ear, had her back to the door.
“Yes, that’s correct. I’ll see you day after tomorrow, Thursday, and I’ll mark my calendar for seven o’clock June the ninth.” She spun around and looked up at Brad and winked. “Yes sir. I’ll see you then. Good-bye.” She walked around her desk and gave him a long embrace.
“Brad Wallace, how have you been? It’s been a long time!”
“April, wow. You’re looking as beautiful as ever!”
April was an attractive woman who came by her good looks naturally. Her father was American and her mother was from South Viet Nam. The two had met in Saigon during the war. April had Asian facial features and long, straight dark hair. At five foot eight, she was considerably taller than most Vietnamese women. It was actually Julie who had befriended her first. They would meet occasionally for lunch or shopping, then a few months later April and her husband, Kirk Bennett, invited Brad and Julie to dinner. April had sold them their first and only house, as well as Brad’s office building. Julie was there for April when Kirk was killed in a tragic car accident. Three years later they attended April’s wedding when she married Jeff Stockwell; for business purposes April never changed her surname. When Brad lost Julie, April was there in turn, supporting him and reminding him that he was a father with a son to raise.
“What brings you to my humble establishment?” she asked after the formalities were over.
“April, I’ll get straight to the point. I want to buy a small townhouse or condo for my son and his wife. But I want you to handle the entire transaction personally. Can you do that?”
“Jared is married? I hadn’t heard! My, my time flies.”
Brad pulled his wallet to show her a recent picture of Jared and Nicole.
“Oh, she’s lovely! Jared looks like you—in your younger days. And why didn’t you didn’t invite me to the wedding? Shame on you!”
Brad laughed and shook his head. “They wouldn’t have it. They ran off to Vegas and eloped. Hell, I wasn’t even invited!”
“I see. Well, you’re forgiven in that case. Now, back to your question. Absolutely, I would insist on handling the entire matter for you and it would be my pleasure to do so.”
“Great, I appreciate that.”
“How much do you want to spend?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Brad tried to seem like money was really no object. He suddenly wanted to impress April. “I just want a nice place in a safe neighborhood. Plus, I want it to be at least thirty minutes away from me. You tell me. What’s it gonna cost?”
She sat down at her desk and started pecking away at her computer.
“Mind if I fix myself some coffee?” he asked. She started to get up. “No, no. You sit still and find me a house. I can get it.”
He made his way to a little kitchen area down the hall from her office and filled the one-cup coffee maker with water and coffee. After calling out to see if she wanted a cup, which she declined, he took his coffee and strolled around the outer office, gazing at pictures and art on the walls. When he finished his self-guided tour, he worked his way back to her desk.
“Brad, I think I have a few places we can look at. Do you have time now to see them?”
“You bet! Let’s go.”
After the prerequisite phone calls were made, she handed Brad some listing sheets and they headed for her car. The day had turned slightly cloudy.
“Think it will rain?” April said, looking skyward as she hit the unlock button on her keychain.
“Not according to the forecast I saw this morning,” he replied as he slid into the passenger seat of the new white Cadillac and closed the door. The interior smelled of a mixture new leather and a hint of April’s perfume.
As April drove down tree-lined streets toward the first place on her list of showings, Brad queried her about the various properties. She pulled up in front of a modern, garden-type condominium.
“Here’s our first stop,” she announced.
He stepped out of the car and let her lead the way. She opened the door with the key from the lockbox installed over the door.
The unit was tastefully decorated with a fireplace, balcony and a nice view. She gave Brad a tour inside and out.
“It’s a possibility. What’s next?” Brad asked when they had gone back inside to the kitchen area.
“The next property is only five minutes from here.”
She dropped her business card on the kitchen counter and they headed for the car. As she turned the wheel to back out of the condo’s asphalt driveway, Brad noticed she wasn’t wearing the rock that Stockwell had given her years before. She also wore no wedding band.
“I thought it was SOP to always wear your rings?” He pointed to her left hand on the steering wheel.
“It is when you’re married. Guess you hadn’t heard Jeff and I are divorced.”
“No! Since when?”
“It’s been final for about eleven months now.”
She filled him in on the details while she drove. It was the typical story: she worked too much, they had no kids and Jeff had a woman on the side. When April found out she ordered him out of the house. He left peacefully.
“Okay, Brad,” she said when she had finished her story. “Here’s the next one.”
She pulled up in front of a townhouse with a nicely landscaped yard and what was referred to as “curb-appeal.” After a thorough tour of the interior, Brad was impressed.
“How far are we from my house? Fastest route?”
“I’d say twenty-five minutes or so. Slightly longer in traffic.”
“Perfect. I’ll take it.”
“You’ll take it?” April seemed surprised that he made such a quick decision. “Okay, if you’re certain. Let’s go back to the office and I’ll prepare your offer.”
They were minutes away from her office when her cell phone rang. “Hello, April Bennett.”
Brad could hear the male voice through her phone. The caller was upset about something but his words weren’t audible.
“Mr. Carter if you’ll just….” More inaudible yelling from the phone. “If you’ll just calm down ….”
The caller interrupted her again and he was yelling even louder. April’s expression was one of embarrassment, but also one of alarm.
“Pull off the road,” Brad whispered.
She did as he said. Her hands shook as she cut the engine and dropped the phone in her lap. Brad heard the words “fucking bitch” and grabbed the phone.
“Listen, pal! I don’t know what your problem is, but you will refrain from speaking to my wife in that manner or I will pay you a visit.”
; The line went dead. “Damn coward!” He handed the phone back to April. “Who in the hell was that?”
“I honestly don’t know! He said he had his house listed with another agent and that I have a listing near him that is priced too low. He was complaining that I had bankrupted him.”
“Let me drive. You need to calm down.”
He got out walked around to the driver side and April slid over to the passenger seat. He drove her back to her office and they sat in the car for a few minutes until she had regained her composure.
Once they were back inside her office, April sat down at the computer. “Brad, how do you want to finance this?”
“No finance, I’ll pay cash. I don’t want to waste time getting a loan. How fast can we close?”
“With all cash? Two weeks.”
“Okay.” April started filling out the contract while Brad made them each a cup of coffee. He phoned Maggie and told her he wouldn’t be coming into the office at all that day. Meanwhile, April banged out an offer ten grand under the list price and Brad wrote her a check for the earnest money.
“Now we wait! How about we get a bite to eat?” she suggested.
“Yes, let’s do,” he replied. He had been thinking the exact same thing. “I’m pretty hungry, now that you mention it.”
Brad drove as she directed him across town to a nice seafood place she knew. He recognized the name as he had been there before, but it had been quite a while ago.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “The guy was a crackpot.”
“He was pretty angry,” Brad said, trying to show his concern.
“Sometimes real estate agents take more abuse than folks realize, but I’m fine.” She laughed slightly. “Besides, he’s likely still running from my ‘husband’ who promised him a visit.”
“I figured if he thought there was a man around he wouldn’t bother you further,” he said as he eased April’s Caddy into the parking lot of the restaurant.
The place appeared to have been redecorated since his last visit. Besides the usual mounted fish on the walls, there was a new, self-seat raw bar on one side of the room and a sushi bar on the other. They were greeted by a young hostess and seated at a table near a window.
They chatted over shrimp cocktails, salads and fresh fish. Brad found it relaxing to be with a mature woman, someone with whom he had things in common. He enjoyed their conversation, but at intervals had to fight off the image of Nicole popping into his head. He took in April’s attractive features and well-proportioned body as she spoke. He was determined to get Nicole out of his head, somehow.
April got a call from the listing agent just as they were finishing dinner. His offer had been accepted. Brad was ecstatic. Nicole would no longer be living under his roof. He would miss Jared, of course, but his son was a married man now and it was time for a place of his own. Relief washed over him as he thought of having his house to himself, without her alone there with him when Jared was away.
Back at her office, Brad took April gently by the arm. “April, first and foremost I want to keep this a secret. My son and his wife are not to know any of this. It’s a surprise. Second, don’t let my name get out any more than absolutely necessary regarding this.”
“I’ll swear everyone involved to secrecy.”
“So, we will close the first week of July. Is that the correct?”
“Give or take a day or two.” April gave him a questioning look. He was not hiding impatience well.
“Okay, but push everybody. I want to settle as soon as possible.”
She printed a copy of the ratified contract and called the title company. The closing date would be July seventh. Jared was returning tomorrow and likely wouldn’t leave again until the latter part of the month. Brad was determined to see that they were moved into the townhouse lock, stock and barrel before Jared left town again. He had but one more night alone with Nicole, and he had to figure out a way to avoid her at all cost. All at once it hit him.
“April, how would you like to go to dinner and perhaps a movie with me tonight?”
“Oh!” She stammered a bit. “That’s sweet, Brad, but I have a seven-thirty listing appointment tonight. Can I get a rain check?”
“Sure, you bet.” He tried not to let his disappointment show. “Well, I’ll see you. Keep me posted on how things are going with the townhouse.”
“Of course I will. See you soon.”
Brad left her office and drove toward home. He told himself it was only one more night. It was three o’clock and too late to go to his office, so he went to Kelsey’s and had a few beers and some Happy Hour food. He resolved to stay there until she had presumably gone to bed. He only had to avoid her a little while longer: then, it would be smooth sailing and he no longer had to worry about his relationship with his son.
A casual drinking buddy of Brad’s and another loyal patron of Kelsey’s, a guy named Bill-something, came in and they drank a few beers together and shot the breeze. When eleven o’clock came around they were both sufficiently buzzed and decided to call it a night.
Brad went home and tiptoed quietly to his room. No sooner had he stripped off his clothes and jumped into bed than he heard a tap-tap-tap on his door. Before he could respond, she burst in. She walked purposefully across the room toward him, wearing her pale blue, short silk robe. She didn’t look exactly pleased.
“Where were you tonight? I fixed one of your favorites for dinner. Would it have been too much of a bother to call to say you’d be late?”
By the tone of her voice she was more than a little miffed. He felt badly. “I worked late and had to stop by Kelsey’s to meet with a client and then I ran into a friend and we…wait! Why am I explaining myself to you? I’m a grown man and you are not my mother, nor are you my wife!”
A look of shock washed over her face and she turned and strutted toward the door.
He panicked. “Wait a minute! Don’t leave like this. Please, come back.”
She paused but didn’t turn around. He started to get up but remembered he was naked and quickly jerked the covers back over himself. She hung her head and just stood there as if she were deciding whether to stay or leave. He apologized for jumping down her throat and asked her again to stay. She turned and walked over to him, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“I feel like a jerk. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Forgive me, please.”
A tear ran down her cheek and he wrapped his arms around her and rocked her like she was a baby.
“Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
She pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes. Her aquamarine pupils were magnetic pools. He felt himself spiraling. In a split second he pressed his lips to hers in a most passionate kiss. She didn’t resist or struggle, but when he pulled back to look at her once more, she had the same look of terror in her eyes that she had had that fateful night, before she blacked out.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed. “What have I done? I didn’t mean it!”
She stood up quickly and slowly backed toward the door. The door slammed behind her. He could hear her footsteps as she ran down the hall.
“What have you done, you stupid fool!” he said aloud. He would have paid any price to be able to take back what had just happened—not because he truly felt sorry, but because he feared the consequences. Jared would be home tomorrow. Would she tell him what he had done? If she did, what possible explanation could he offer to his son? What if they moved out and never wanted to see him again? What about the townhouse he just bought? Then, a really frightening thought went through his mind. What if she suddenly remembers? He thought about the aftermath of her recognizing him. That virginity thing, he had instilled that in Jared from an early age. He for some reason thought it would discourage him from being promiscuous. How would he
answer to his son for the crime he had committed? After all, it was a crime, wasn’t it? Still, Brad couldn’t quite grasp how it could be seen as a crime. How could a crime be so delicious and desirable? He lay there, worried if she were even phoning the police at that moment—or worse, calling Jared.
He didn’t know what to do and so he continued to lie there in fear. He was too panicked to sleep. Time passed and he tossed and turned. He watched the clock between intervals of restless dozing until five a.m. rolled around and he got up. He stared at himself in the mirror as he vigorously brushed his teeth until his gums bled. His pupils were frozen marbles of cold terror. He spat pink foam into the sink.
When he walked into the kitchen, there she sat: dressed in her long, white terrycloth bathrobe. She had a cup of coffee and a plate with two slices of cinnamon toast. She stared into her cup, running her index finger around the rim. He stood silently for a minute or so before he spoke.
“Can you ever forgive me for last night? I’d been drinking, considerably more that I should have. I’m so mortified and I wish I could take it back. Please forgive me.”
She didn’t move or say a word. She just sat there as if she were in a trance. Slowly, she looked up at him. He saw what he thought was disgust in her eyes. She got up from her chair and went down the basement stairs, presumably going back to her room. Her silence left him feeling exposed, vulnerable and afraid. He couldn’t stand it and in desperation ran downstairs after her. He pushed open her bedroom door. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.
“What are you going to do about my terrible mistake?”
She looked at him but again said nothing.
“What are you going to do?” he pressed.
Her head came up quickly and her eyes flashed with anger. Her words, however, were soft.