Chapter 3 A Deal

Chapter 3 HALLE "My name is Mr. Cole. I work for Mr. Richard Sterling." I knew that name. Everyone knew that name. Sterling Holdings was on billboards all over the city. Their buildings were glass towers. Their logo was a silver bird. "I don't know any Richard Sterling," I said. "No," Mr. Cole agreed. "But he knows about you." Without asking, he sat down on the plastic chair next to me. He crossed his legs and looked at me like he was reading a report. "Your mother has been in this unit for twenty-two days," he said. "Kidney failure, followed by heart problems. Her bill is currently very large. The hospital will stop treatment in the morning if you do not pay. You have no other family. You lost your job eleven days ago. You've sold almost everything you own." I stared at him. "How do you know all that?" "It's my job to know things." He paused. "I'm here to offer you a solution." I laughed. It came out ugly and wet. "A solution. Of course. Let me guess. You want me to sell a kidney?" He didn't even smile. "Mr. Sterling needs a bride." I stopped laughing. "His company is going into a merger with Ashford Group," Mr. Cole said. "Part of the deal is a marriage. Two marriages, actually. Mr. Sterling's daughter was supposed to marry one of the Ashford sons. One week ago, she ran away. She left a letter and took her passport. We don't know where she is." "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "What does it have to do with me?" "The wedding is in two weeks. If there is no bride, there is no merger. Mr. Sterling cannot let that happen." He looked at me. "So he needs someone to take her place." I blinked at him. Then I laughed again, because surely he was joking. "Me? You want me to marry some rich man I've never met? Just like that?" "Yes." "I'm not his daughter. Everyone will know." "The Ashford family has never met her. They know her name and a few old photos. Her name doesn't matter. You'll use your own. Mr. Sterling will say you're his goddaughter, raised quietly, away from the press. It's a business marriage, Miss Adams. Nobody is expecting love. They're expecting a signature and a smile at the wedding." "And what do I get?" He reached into his jacket and took out a folded paper. He opened it and held it in front of me. It was my mother's hospital bill. All of it. Every page. At the bottom, someone had written one word in red ink: Paid. "If you agree tonight," Mr. Cole said, "this will be real by morning. Every bill. The best doctors. Her medicine, flown in if needed. And after your marriage ends, a generous amount of money so that you never have to sit on a hospital floor again." My heart was beating so loud that I could hear it in my ears. "After my marriage ends?" I repeated. "These marriages are contracts. They will last as long as the merger needs them to. A year, maybe two. Then you can walk away." I looked at that red word. Paid. Then I looked at the man's face, and something cold went through me. There was no kindness there. Not even a little. He looked at me the same way the girl in the car had looked at me. Like I was something he could buy. I stood up. My knee hurt, but I stood up straight. "No," I said. Mr. Cole raised one eyebrow. "I'm not for sale," I said. "My mother didn't raise me to be sold like a goat at the market. Tell Mr. Sterling to find another girl." He studied me for a long moment. Then he stood up too, folded the paper, and put it back in his jacket. He took out a small white card and held it out to me. I didn't take it. He placed it on the chair where he had been sitting. "The offer stands until morning," he said. "After eight o'clock, it no longer matters. Good night, Miss Adams." He walked away down the long hallway. His shoes made no sound on the floor at all. I stared at the card. It was plain and white with only a phone number on it. I turned my back on it and went into my mother's room. I sat down by her bed and took her cold hand. "I said no, Mama," I whispered. "You would be proud of me. I said no." The machine beeped. One. Two. Three. Then it stopped beeping and started screaming. It was a long, high, terrible sound. A red light flashed above the bed. My mother's body jerked under the sheet. "Mama? Mama!" The door flew open. Bisi ran in, then a doctor, then two more nurses. Someone pushed me back. Someone shouted numbers. The doctor was pressing on my mother's chest, hard, over and over. "Get her out," someone said. "Get the daughter out." Hands pulled me into the hallway. The door shut in my face. I pressed my hands against the small glass window. I could see them working on her. I could see her arm hanging off the side of the bed. I could see Bisi's face, and Bisi was scared. Bisi was never scared. "Please," I whispered to the glass. "Please, God. Please, don't take her. I'll do anything. Anything." I heard myself say it. Anything. Slowly, I turned around. The white card was still lying on the plastic chair. My legs walked to it before I decided anything. My hand picked it up. It was shaking so hard I could barely read the numbers. I had no phone. I went to the nurses' desk, where an old landline phone sat beside a jar of pens. Nobody was there. Everyone was in my mother's room. I picked up the phone. I dialed the number. It rang only once. "Mr. Cole speaking." I closed my eyes. Behind me, through the door, I could still hear the doctor counting and the machine screaming. "This is Halle Adams," I said. My voice didn't even sound like mine. "Pay the bill. Pay all of it. Right now." There was a short silence on the line. "Then you agree?" he asked. I looked back at the door. I thought about the medicine running into the drain. I thought about the girl in the car telling me to beg twice. I wasn't begging. I was selling. And I would never forgive myself for it. "Yes," I said. "I agree." "Very good," Mr. Cole said. "I'll make the call now." I swallowed hard. My throat felt like sand. "When is the wedding?" I asked.