A few of the guests within earshot exchange uncertain glances. Others merely watch the show as if we’re part of tonight’s entertainment. Their faces alternate between horror, curiosity, and intrigue.
Simon exhales a slow breath, lifting his glass to his lips for a sip of his drink with deliberate ease. His expression is relaxed-too relaxed. “I’m well aware of what’s at stake tonight.”
He rocks forward on the balls of his feet, something in his eyes sharp and dangerous. “And what if I win the bid for the most expensive lot tonight? Would you suddenly change your mind? Would we belong then?”
“You?” Carl lets out a laugh, shaking his head as if Simon just told the joke of the century. “I’m confident enough. Care to make a wager? Really make it interesting?”
My stomach knots. I know that look on Simon’s face. He’s planning something. I’m not sure how he does it, but he has this uncanny ability to make things work in our favor. But this is out and public, and Carl and Jade’s cruelty knows no bounds.
I’m already shaking my head, but Simon says, “Sure, let’s hear it.”
“If you make a higher bid and actually win the lot,” Carl announces loudly, ensuring everyone in the vicinity is listening, “I, Carl Smith, will?-“
He pauses for dramatic effect, letting his gaze sweep over the gathered guests.
“-walk around naked in front of everyone here,” Carl finishes.
Gasps ripple through the ballroom.
Even Jade smacks his arm, suddenly not so confident anymore. “Carl! Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not like I’m going to lose, babe.” To Simon he says, “You’ll do the same if you lose.”
Simon’s grin widens like a cat who’s just caught the canary. “Fine by me. In fact, I’ll do you one better. If you win, I won’t interfere with your job.”
Carl rolls his eyes. “Please. As if you have any authority. But sure.”
“It’s a bet, then,” Simon says, extending a hand.
While I would’ve advised my fiancé to think things through, Carl’s the one who hesitates.
Noticing the whispers and stares, Carl glances around and then seizes Simon’s outstretched hand. He shakes the hell out of it, as if his bravado can mask his irresolution. “You’re on.”
Onstage, a woman with a silvery-purple dress taps the microphone. She introduces herself as Fiona, a bejeweled tiara glittering atop her halo of white curls. Giving a brief introduction and a mention to the charities that’ll be benefiting, she announces for people to be seated.
Through the din, I recognize one of the charities that assists homeless individuals in New York. The other is a women’s shelter.
As we settle at a table only one away from Carl and Jade, I whisper to Simon under my breath. “What were you thinking, making that bet with my ex? Do you have a penchant for streaking I should know about?”
Attempting to keep the situation light, I infuse my voice with humor as I tap my chin, “Come to think of it, there was that flashing incident in my bathroom back in New York.”
“Funny,” he says, suspiciously at ease, although that’s typically his norm, too. “I seem to recall you took your sweet time closing the door.”
My cheeks heat, and then I’m remembering our steamy session in another bathroom. Waking up curled against his naked chest.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of seeing Simon naked. If this evening goes according to plan, I’ll be requesting a private showing later tonight. As long as it’s for an audience of one, and that’s me.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. He’s all mine.
Ever the gentleman, as he scoots in my chair, and kisses my temple. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I say as he takes the seat beside me. I peer into his gorgeous emerald eyes and show him I mean it.
If only that were enough to soothe the anxious churning of my stomach.
At the auctioneer’s signal, the six-string quartet stills. Fiona readjusts the height of the microphone, curling a white-gloved hand around the base. A diamond winks on her ring finger, and I do a quick appraisal of the one on mine.
Beneath these hotel lights, it’s blingier than ever. It still blows my mind that he bought me the ring of my dreams-as if money was no object, which it typically is, even while I’m asleep.
“Everyone, grab your paddles and get ready to start the bidding,” Fiona says. “First up, our most expensive item of the night.”
A full-on spotlight illuminates a glass display case positioned at the center of the stage. Inside, nestled on a silk cushion, is an antique necklace that glows brilliantly under the lights. Similar to the diamond in my engagement ring, the delicate chain is absolutely lustrous.
In the center sits a giant, sapphire pendant that appears to contain entire galaxies.
“As I mentioned earlier, we’ll be donating all proceeds from tonight’s auction to homeless and women’s shelters around New
York City.” Fiona lets that sink in, then lifts the microphone higher and motions to the necklace. “This first and most valuable lot is an antique necklace dating back to the time of Louis XIV, worn by monarchs themselves.”
Every member of the audience seems to breathe as one as Fiona’s exhale gets amplified through the microphone.
Tension hangs in the air, like the last note in a song that twangs on.
“The opening bid will begin at one million dollars.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I’ve forgotten how to breathe. I cling hold of Simon’s arm like a life raft, struggling to remain afloat. “Did she just say they’ll start at one million dollars?”
Simon
Victoria’s incredulous question rings through the air, and she turns worry-filled eyes on me.
Jade cackles, getting a big kick out of Victoria’s reaction. “Uh-oh. Did somebody realize they’re going to lose?”
Meanwhile, Carl releases a jeering laugh, puffing up his chest as though he’s already won. “That’s pocket change to me.” He raises his numbered paddle. “One million.”
He’s so oblivious to the trap he’s walking into. I can’t wait for the moment it goes snap.
With casual ease, I lift my paddle. “One point five million.”
Murmurs ripple across the room, heads swiveling. A few guests start whispering, sizing me up, no doubt wondering who the hell I really am. I thought more of them would have recognized me, but I suppose that’s what happens when people presume you’re dead.
Carl practically leaps up from his seat, his ego cracking in front of my very eyes. “One point six.”
I don’t blink. “Two million.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.