Page 4 of Sold to the Highest Bidder
"Michael?" Nazalie called, no answer. With her hands still over her head, Nazalie looked around the shop to see if she missed him again like the last time.
"Michael?" she called again, still no response. She should check the kitchen, Nazalie thought.Three time’s a charm, right?
Michael was in the kitchen, poring over the same document from the morning.
"Someone made an offer this morning."
"An offer?" Nazalie echoed, moving closer to where he sat. She hoped and prayed that it was not what she thought it was.
"A man came by this morning and offered ten percent over the asking price."
Nazalie was speechless. How could she top that? She was barely able to put $2000 together and that was minus the student loan she had to pay back. Nazalie had to hold the kitchen table for support. She suddenly couldn't support her weight.
"I still have a few days to go over the offer. This buyer seems determined to get this bakery. I'll give you two weeks to come up with a counteroffer. I know how much you want this place.Since he knows that I plan to sell the bakery and retire, he put out more than the asking price." Michael slid the file towards her. "That's the contract. He told me the minute I sign it, he'll wire the money straight to my account."
"The offer seems too good to be true, Michael. Are you sure it's not a trick or something?”
Michael shook his head, "No, it's not. I already showed it to my lawyer this afternoon. He's offering double the asking price, Nazalie. I have to take the offer."
Nazalie had to take a moment to steady her breathing. It all made sense now. She thought that the serious-looking man in the sharp-looking suit was a health inspector; she should have recognized that determined gait. It was Mr. Fritzer, Michael's lawyer and close friend. It had been so busy in the shop that she didn't give him a second glance when he passed by with Michael.
"I need more time," Nazalie whispered, grasping the edge of the table. Nazalie's vision was starting to get blurry. She couldn't seem to control the tears from rolling down her eyes. "Please, I need more time, Michael."
"I'm sorry, Nazalie. I know you're a good kid, but I've waited long enough, and you know that too. You know I'm getting old, Nazalie. The bustling city life of Toronto is no longer for me. I want to move to a house by the lake; spend the rest of my days in a calm environment."
"I know, Michael. I know." Nazalie was sobbing; she was this close to falling to her knees and begging for more time. She felt like her dreams were disintegrating before her eyes.
"Okay," she said, wiping her face with her blouse. Nazalie was sure that her makeup was smudged. She must look a sight right now, a pitiful sight.
"Give me a month. The same time frame until the contract expires. If I can't come up with the money by then, you can sell it."
"Nazalie, I've been waiting for almost six months now. What is the guarantee that you would have gathered the money by then?"
"I would have gathered it by then. I'll even pay fifty thousand. I'll match the man's offer. You have nothing to lose. All you have to do is wait." Nazalie reeked of desperation, but she didn't care. She needed to buy more time, even if it was a month.
"Nazalie…"
"Please, Michael. You know how much I've wanted the bakery. Isn't it better to leave it in the hands of someone you know and trust?"
"Okay…" He agreed, reluctantly. "A month, Nazalie. Not a minute more."
Michael picked up the file and stomped off. "Don't forget to lock up." He called, closing the door behind him. Nazalie's legs gave out under her. She had been holding it together because Michael was there. Now that she was alone, she let it all out; she let herself cry.
???
With swollen eyes and a heavy heart, Nazalie trudged her way home. The door was locked, so she assumed that her mother was out doing whatever. She secured the door behind her and leaned heavily against it, closing her eyes.
When did her life become like this? Was money the solution to all her problems? The soft sound of snoring pulled her out of her thoughts. Her mother was slumped on the couch, sleeping. It appeared that she had been drinking, as usual. Nazalie tried not to blame her, but it was hard not to. Ever since Nazalie's dad left, her mum had never been the same. It happened when Nazalie had graduated high school. He said he was sick and couldn't come to the ceremony. Nazalie didn't find it weird then. But now that she thought about it, there were signs that she ignored. They had come back from the ceremony to find an empty house and a note that simply said:
I can’t continue to lie to myself and pretend to be happy when I am not. I’ve taken the furniture and I won’t be coming back. Tell Nazalie I’m sorry.
Nazalie had always wondered if it was that easy to leave your family behind and not look back. Ever since that day, her mother became an alcoholic. They used to bake together all the time, but now, her mother sat on the sofa and watched the same show all day. Nazalie knew that she couldn't relate to the pain of losing someone she loved yet, but she thought that it was pretty selfish of her mum to check out. She had a daughter who loved her, who she should care for, but Nazalie wasn't worth it. She wasn't worth living a decent life for. She used to be Nazalie's role model, now she was a woman that drank all day and slept on her couch.
"Stewart…" Dina mumbled in her sleep. Rick was Nazalie's father's name. From time to time, she dreamt about him.
Nazalie turned off the TV and covered her mother in a blanket. She reeked of alcohol. Nazalie picked up the empty bottles and tossed them in the trash can. The area surrounding the couch was a pigsty. Nazalie always left $50 on the kitchen table before she left for work. No one cooked in the house anymore, so Dina mostly ordered takeout.
It bothered Nazalie that they barely spoke nowadays, but what could she do? Her mother wouldn't talk to her. During one of their arguments, Nazalie found out it was because she looked a lot like her dad. Nazalie felt like her life was falling apart. The only thing she ever wanted since she graduated University was about to slip from her fingers. Was it that easy for people's dreams to be crushed? She was going to find a solution quickly. Then it came to her: the site. She could check out the website, what was the name again?
