A Desperate Deal

I arrive home with the children and find Carlos sitting on the sofa, his head resting on one arm and a glass in the other hand, which surprises me since my husband has many habits, but drinking during the day has never been one of them. He looks at me, and I can tell the interview didn't go as well as it should have. I approach and give him a light kiss on the lips before leaving the children to play on the carpet and sit beside him.

"I have another one tomorrow," Carlos says before taking another sip. "If it's not canceled at the last minute. How was it at the bank?"

"If we want a roof over our heads, we need three million euros, and we have four days to do it," I say, taking the glass from my husband's hand and taking a sip. I grimace and then hand it back to him. "Wow, what's in there?"

"Brandy and a little desperation," Carlos says, looking at the glass. He then turns to me sadly and takes my hand. "I'm sorry for putting us in this situation."

"It's not just you. If I hadn't pressured you about your job if I had followed my father's advice and continued with Law..."

"Love, we could talk to your father about it. I'm sure he won't refuse..."

"He refused," I say, taking another sip from his glass, which now doesn't taste as bitter as before.

"That can't be... Did you explain to him that we weren't going to ask..."

"Carlos, he said no," I interrupt, getting up. "Now, only a miracle can solve this."

"Suarez said clients were waiting for you," Carlos recalls. "And inside, he told me there was a proposal for a twenty-million house if your commission is ten percent..."

"I thought about that, but the guy probably already bought elsewhere," I say, now sitting on the floor with the children. I turn to my husband, and he's dialing a number on the living room phone. "What are you doing?"

"Calling your father," Carlos responds the phone against his ear.

"I already told you he refused to lend the money."

"Okay, but he must know someone who has enough money to buy a house or can recommend someone, I don't know," Carlos says, then points his finger at me and returns to the call. "Hello, Ramón... No, I'm not calling about that, Dália made her position very clear... No... If she said we won't go anymore, we won't... Yes... Unless... Yes, there's an option... No, we get it, we can't blackmail you with the kids... Ramón, I didn't call to argue with you, but to ask you for a favor that won't cost anything... Ramón, we need client referrals for Dália... People who need to buy houses... I know the economy is tough... Ah, you know someone. Great, who is it? Ah..." Carlos shows a slight discomfort. He presses his right temple and continues, "Okay, I'll talk to her, but... Yes, I know we can't be picky... Anyway, I'll talk to her... Thank you, Ramón."

"And then?" I ask my husband as if I didn't already know the answer.

"Your father has someone, but you won't believe who he recommended," my husband begins. "Your ex-boss... I'll understand if you refuse..."

"Alright, I'll do it," I say hastily. I had to accept to prevent my husband from finding out that X was the real estate client. "Maybe I can sell him a twenty-million house, but we still need one million... Where are we going to get that?"

"You can leave that to me," Carlos says, mysteriously. He dials another phone number and says, "Hello, Rubens."

***
My husband talked to Rubens for thirty minutes, found out that a position was still open in the same role as before, and managed to schedule an interview with his former boss for the next day. Carlos was so nervous that he could barely tie his tie properly, and I helped him while he took a sip of coffee.

"It will be alright," I say, giving my best smile to Carlos.

"I hope so because this is our last resort," Carlos replies, placing his cup in the sink.

He kisses my forehead and then leaves the kitchen, passing through the living room where he kisses our children before heading to the interview. I sit on the floor with my kids to distract myself, but my mind keeps wandering to Carlos' steps. How will the meeting go? Will Rubens be as supportive of my husband, or will he think it's too much to ask for a million without even returning properly? These and a few more questions keep lingering in my mind all day, even as I keep busy taking care of the house and the children. The day drags on, and still no sign of my husband. I feel like calling Carlos, but I'm afraid it might disrupt something. I put the children down for their nap, then tidy up the living room. The children wake up, and I let them play, but still no Carlos. I glance at the phone again, my heart urging me to call, but my brain refuses. Maybe it's good that it's taking time; maybe the interview went well. I start preparing dinner, and still no sign of Carlos. Finally, I ignore my brain and walk towards the living room, where I pick up the phone from the base and then hear the front door open. Carlos appears, with a serious expression, and stops in the middle of the way, looking at me. He takes a deep breath and says:

"I did my part, now you need to do yours."

"What do you mean? Did it work?" I ask, confused, as I expected a different emotion from my husband than the one he's showing.

"Yes, it did. Rubens treated me very well, and I had a great interview... I'm back to work today and even attended a meeting," my husband says, placing his briefcase on the sideboard.

"Did you ask him for a million euros? What did he say?"

"He accepted," my husband says, looking at his watch. "Now, I need to pack my bags because I'm leaving for Portugal today."

"How? Wait, what? You said there was an open position..."

"Dália, the open position is there," my husband replies.

"So, Duny left?" I ask, curious.

"No, Duny is still working there, and she'll be my direct boss. I'll have to deal with her directly soon," Carlos answers, observing my expression change and my lips open, something he interrupts. "I'm not in the mood to argue about it. Besides, we have no other choice. Now, go find your ex-boss and sell the house to him; otherwise, all of this will be in vain."

I pick up the phone from the base, and dial X's number, hoping it's not his anymore, but after two rings, his deep voice invades the line, saying:

"Hello?"

"This is Dália Penedo Salazar," I say, curtly. I raise my voice, looking at my husband, who continues to stare at me, and then continues, "My father told me that you need a house..."

"Your husband is nearby... Interesting. I like your boldness, Dália Penedo..."

"I have one at the real estate agency, but it costs millions of euros. If you're interested in seeing it, I'm making myself available."

"Hmmm, you're available to me? I like that... Of course, I'm interested... I'd love to see some houses with you."

"Great. Please write down the address of the real estate agency, please," I continue, ignoring X's advances. Carlos leaves the room and walks towards the stairs that lead to our bedroom. "Got it? Are you available the day after tomorrow?"

"You know I'm one hundred percent available to you... Day and night," X says with a teasing tone. "So, you accepted my proposal?"

"Understand one thing: the house is for sale, not me," I say, ending the call.