Breaking Down (The Breaking Series Book 4) Page 3
“We used to go to vet school together,” I said as the bartender placed my beer in front of me. “Thanks,” I muttered to him before he went to take someone else’s order.
“Used to?” the girl asked.
Frustration knotted my shoulders. That was one topic I hated talking about. “Yeah. Long story. How about you?”
“I'm Bia’s cousin.”
“Oh, so you're from Brazil too?”
“Sim,” she said. That explained the accent. She smiled, and I realized that not only were her eyes pretty, but her entire face was. Her dark hair and bright eyes and red lips went really well with her fair skin and delicate features. “Where are my manners?” She stuck her hand between us, bringing me back from my thoughts. “Hi, I'm Gabriela. Though, call me Gabi. I prefer Gabi.”
I took her soft hand in my calloused one. “Hi, I'm Tyler. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” She pulled her hand away.
I took a sip of my beer, trying to think of what to say next. I hadn’t talked to a girl, other than dog and cat owners who stopped by the clinic, in months. I used to be good at this, at flirting and earning easy smiles. Now, I felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to fuck up my life a little more.
Shit, I was overthinking this. Just talk to her.
It didn’t have to mean anything or lead anywhere. Just a conversation with someone other than my noisy neighbors, or with Lena, the clinic’s secretary.
I opened my mouth to ask her what she thought of the U.S. when my cell phone rang. With a frown, I fished my phone from my jeans, and without looking at the screen, answered the call.
“Hello?”
“May I speak with Tyler Reid, please?”
“This is Tyler.”
“Tyler, my name is Will Boris and I’m with the collector’s office.”
Oh, shit.
I turned my stool so my back was to Gabi. “How can I help you?”
“Well, sir, I’m calling you because I have here four of your unpaid bills, and I would like to negotiate a payment.”
“Mr. Boris, I know about the bills.” And the many others stacked in a neat pile in my apartment. “However, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, okay? And a lot of bills to pay. I'll get to all of them. Eventually.” I hoped. The situation wasn’t looking pretty, and to be honest, I didn’t think I would get to all the bills even if I lived to be a hundred—and worked until my last breath.
“Sir, I understand you may be in a hard position right now, but—”
“Listen,” I said, raising my voice. Before Gabi heard me, I stood and walked out of the room, into the restaurant’s entrance hallway. “I’m doing what I can, okay? Send the damn bills to me. I’ll pay them when I can.”
I turned off the call and let out a deep, shaky breath. This was my damn life now. I had to learn to deal with these calls and the bills I couldn’t pay, or I would die of an ulcer or heart attack before I made it to thirty. At least if I did, all the debt would die with me. That was one solution.
I shook my head, ashamed for thinking such things.
Coming to this party had been a bad idea. First, I felt irritated seeing my ex-classmates happy. Then, I got this damn call, further souring my mood. Besides, I was here wasting precious minutes, hours, when I could be working and earning some money. I knew it wouldn’t be enough—it would never be enough—but every little bit helped.
By the time I reached my truck in the parking lot behind the restaurant, I had already arranged to take a few hours of the overnight shift at the vet clinic.
3
Gabi
“Hello,” Tyler answered his phone. “This is Tyler.” He angled his body away from me. “How can I help you?”
I took that as a hint and straightened my stool, facing the bar. On my other side, Pedro was messing with his phone—probably stalking Iris on social media. However, I hadn't seen her post anything lately.
“Mr. Boris, I know about the bills,” Tyler said into the phone, his voice tighter. “However, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, okay? And a lot of bills to pay. I'll get to all of them. Eventually.” There was a tense pause. “Listen,” he hissed before standing up and walking away from the bar. With hurried steps, he exited the room and went to the front of the restaurant. Was he leaving the party? Without saying goodbye to Garrett? And what was that about having a lot of bills to pay? Was he in debt or something?
Well, none of my business.
I took a long swallow from my drink, then pulled out my phone to check on my emails and social media. Priscila posted pictures of her with her horse, then right below, pictures with one of her cousins at a club. Mateus posted about getting ready to start the new semester in college, studying hard, and being more focused. Silvia, another girl from my polo team, posted about her aunt who needed some prayers for a surgery. Reading the comments, I found out it was nothing serious, just routine stuff. Even so, I shot some positive thoughts her way. Raquel, a girl who had played with us a couple of times then gave up polo, posted about her last days at her summer internship and, like Mateus, getting ready for a new semester in college.
Scrolling down, a picture of Mateus with his arm draped over a pretty girl's shoulder showed up in my feed. Apparently, she—Helena—had posted the picture and tagged him. There was no caption on the picture, but from the people dressed up around them, I assumed they were out clubbing. She had a big smile on her face and he seemed happy too, or too drunk.
My stomach sank.
It had been quite some time since we broke up. He even had tried to get back together with me a few times, but I guess he wouldn't wait forever for me. I mean, I didn't want him back. He was free to go out and ficar with other girls—ficar was a common thing in Brazil. It was when a girl and a guy met at the club and kissed and made out while there, then left and went back home alone as if nothing had happened. There was no obligation to call or get in touch the next day or whenever. A little cold and slutty in my opinion, but almost everyone did it once in a while.
Still, I couldn't shake the heavy feeling that settled in my stomach, making me a little jealous. I told myself it was normal. After all, we had been together for almost four years. I had thought we would be together forever.
I sighed.
It was time to stop this pity party. Determined, I turned back to Pedro, to bother him until he at least tried to tell another joke, but Bia stepped between us and hooked her arm through mine.
“You're coming with me,” she said with a big smile.
Just like I had predicted, she dragged me to the dance floor, where the rest of the gang—minus Pedro and Iris—danced and chatted and laughed.
After two songs, I decided something was not right. Actually, someone was missing.
“Be right back,” I yelled over the loud music.
I raced back to the bar, and this time, I hooked my arm through Pedro's.
“Tche,” he started.
“Don't tche me. I don't care if you just stand there with your drink, but you gotta be with us.” I tugged on his arm. “Now.”
He rolled his eyes, but didn't fight me as I pulled him away from the bar and onto the dance floor.
Our group cheered when Pedro joined us, and he rolled his eyes once more. I remained by his side, bumping my hip against his, grabbing his arms and trying to move them, until finally, he started dancing—which was only swaying pathetically, but I would take it.
We all danced together—Gui, Hil, Leo, Hannah, Bia, Garrett, Pedro, Ri, tio João Pedro, tia Agnes, and me. Happiness filled my chest and a huge smile spread across my lips. I glanced around at my family. It didn’t matter if I was living in Brazil and they were here. It didn’t matter if they were living the dream and I wasn’t. We were still family. We still loved each other. We would still celebrate every little or big thing together—even if that meant I would have to find a way to come visit them more often.
It didn’t matter, as long as we had each other.
&n
bsp; Before leaving for a practice game on Monday morning, Gui and Pedro had invited me to go with them—which was nice because they always let me practice with them. But I wasn’t feeling well. Not physically, just emotionally, so I passed and stayed holed up in the apartment, plopped on the couch wrapped in a thin blanket, and munched on popcorn while watching reruns of The Bachelor.
Reality shows were terrible, but they always made me feel less pathetic about my own life. Come on, as if I would ever expose all of my flaws and odd customs for the whole world to see? At least these people looked like they had way more problems than me. And were less mature and plain stupid.
At the moment, a young woman yelled at the guy about how he was giving hope to four of them, instead of actually choosing one and going for it. A few minutes later, another girl yelled at the same guy, saying that a third girl was trying to be chosen just for the status it would give her.
The words engaged and status stuck in my mind, creating a cascade of images. The couple from Saturday night, the one Megan, Blaire, and Andrea had pointed out to me came to mind, and it made me think of my current visitor visa status.
A marriage to get a green card.
That had crossed my mind several times actually. To offer money to an American guy to marry me so I could get a green card, but who the hell would do that? Nobody we knew needed money. At least I didn’t think so. Maybe if I went to the vet school with Bia and Garrett, I would find a guy who needed money and would agree to marry me.
I laughed on the inside. Meu Deus, as if I would ever have the courage to do that. Thinking about it was one thing. Doing it was another. Well, if maybe he was Liam Hemsworth, then maybe I would get over it and ask him to marry me. Maybe.
Then, another image popped into my mind and my breath caught.
That guy on the phone, Tyler, complaining about unpaid bills. Maybe … maybe he needed money. A lot of money. Maybe if I offered him the amount he needed, he would marry me.
A humorless laugh bubbled up from my throat, but it didn’t come out. It was a ridiculous idea and yet I couldn’t shake it off.
I tried turning my attention back to The Bachelor, but even though my eyes were on the screen, I was seeing and hearing nothing. My mind raced, thinking, planning something I knew I wouldn’t have the courage to do.
Would I?
It was my only option. If I wanted to stay here, if I wanted to stay with my family and friends, if I wanted to join a polo team or even to get a team together without worrying about sponsors for visas, this was it.
Besides, asking couldn’t hurt, right? The worst that could happen was Tyler saying no, and then I would leave and probably never see him again. No harm, no foul.
But even with all the planning and all the certainty that there was no other way, I couldn't find the strength, the courage, to get up from the couch and do something about it. I wasn’t that brave.
But I could be.
I had to be.
I reached for my iPad on the coffee table and opened my social media app. I went to Garrett’s profile and searched for Tyler on his friends' list. I was almost sure he wouldn’t have an account—he struck me that way—but I was mistaken. There he was. Tyler Reid. I clicked on his link and his profile filled the screen. Apparently, he didn’t check his social media often because his last post was dated six months ago—that or most of his posts were private. I scrolled through his few posts and all of them were about new methods of treating horses, and horse racing, and a lot about horses. By the look of it, he was into horses too.
But it didn’t mention anything else I could use, like where he worked or studied, and where I could find him.
So, I took a long breath and called Garrett. He answered after two rings.
“Hey, Gabi, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I paused. “Bia isn’t with you, is she?”
“No, she’s in class right now.”
“Okay, cool.” I sighed, already feeling embarrassed by what I was planning. “Garrett, I need to find Tyler Reid. Can you tell me his number or where he studies or works?”
He didn’t answer right away. “Why?”
“It’s kind of a long story …”
“I have thirty minutes before my next class.”
Droga. “Então, here’s the thing …”
And then I told him everything.
I parked Gui’s Jeep in the parking lot and killed the engine.
All right. This was it.
Let’s do it.
Ten minutes later, I was still inside the Jeep and holding the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles were white. Meu Deus, this was crazy. This was absolutely crazy. Someone should stop me.
But nobody came. And in five days I had to go back to Brazil. Go back to my parents’ house and start college. I cringed. I would have to give up my dream. I would have to give up polo.
I sucked in a long breath and exited the Jeep.
I can do this, I told myself as I walked from my parking space to the sidewalk that led to an old but cute white house. A big wooden sign hung from a post on the lawn: B+D Veterinary Clinic.
I stepped onto the sidewalk and stared at the house.
Não, droga, I couldn’t do it.
With a deflating sigh, I turned around and started walking back to the Jeep. As I opened the driver's side door, someone called me.
“Gabriela?”
A cold wave rushed through me and I froze. Droga.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Hi, Tyler.”
A frown creased his forehead as he walked toward the parking lot, toward me. “Hey. Hm, what are you doing here?”
I whirled, shutting the car door, and leaned against the side of the Jeep. “I … hm.” Droga, what was I supposed to say now?
“Is … is everything all right?”
“Yes, sure, it’s just …” I took a long breath. I could do this. I had come here to do this. I had to do this. It was now or never. “I need you to marry me,” I blurted out.
He took a step back. “W-what?”
“Sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just … Meu Deus, do you have a girlfriend? Shit, you aren’t already married, are you?”
“Whoa, slow down. What the hell are you talking about?”
I sucked in a sharp breath and decided to be honest. “I overheard you the other night, about the bills. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I’m glad that I did. I thought maybe, we could make a deal.”
He crossed his arms. “Let me guess. To marry you? What kind of deal is that?”
“One that gets me a green card.”
He stared at me like I was crazy. “You’re asking me to marry you for a green card?”
“Yes. We would need to stay married for two years. In exchange, I’ll give you the money you need to pay whatever bills you have.” I frowned, suddenly worried his bills were in the millions.
He paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “How did you find me?”
“Garrett.” Right after I had told Garrett my plan, he had called me crazy. But then he agreed that we wouldn’t be hurting anyone. I needed to stay here and Tyler needed money. As long as we didn’t break any other law, it should be fine.
“Garrett knows you’re here right now?” he asked incredulously. I nodded. “Shit, this is crazy …”
“It’s my only option.”
“Are you that desperate to leave your country?”
Merda, this was going worse than I had planned. “It’s not about the country; it’s about my dreams. And yes, I am.”
He shook his head once. “Even if I considered it, I need a lot of money. You couldn’t offer me what I need.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Trust me, I know.” He tilted his head, watching me. “Besides, you don’t sound or look so sure about this.”
I paused. “To be honest, I’m not. But it’s my only choice.”
“You know this sounds crazy.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “I know.”
The little line of hope in my chest shriveled. “What can I offer you, then? More money? How much do you need?”
“It’s not the money,” he said, his voice hard. “We’re talking about our lives here. Marriage is a big thing and, when or if I ever do get married, it won’t be a pretense.”
“I see.” I gulped, trying to swallow my shame, my embarrassment. “Please, forget I ever asked. Sorry to have bothered you.”
With my pride in the dirt, I threw open the door to the Jeep, jumped in, slammed the door, and turned the key, my heart hammering in my chest and tears burning my eyes. I peeled out of the clinic’s parking lot before I broke down in front of him.
I wasn’t sad he had refused me. I kind of expected it. I mean, it was crazy. Some chick comes over and asks him to marry her, just like that? Too crazy. No, his response was understandable. No, I felt sad and frustrated, because now I had no options. I was returning to Brazil, to a life I didn’t want.
4
Tyler
The girl was crazy.
And yet I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
I had left the clinic for a quick lunch break—at almost three in the afternoon—when I found her outside. At first, I thought she was lost, then I thought she had a pet and was bringing it in for an appointment. Not in a million years had I expected what she had proposed.
Marry her? For money?
Granted, the money would be a life saver. I seriously needed the money, but this was my life too. I was already sacrificing too much of myself. I had never really considered marriage before, much less in the last couple of years, and I certainly wouldn’t marry some random girl, no matter how rich she was.