by Goode, Ella
“My lips are sealed. So are you here with someone?” Like a male someone?
“Yes, my grandmother. She’s right over—wait, I can’t see her.” Cinderella peers around me, trying to locate someone. Her searching gaze reminds me of my own purpose. A gong sounds, indicating that the auction is about to start. Damn. I don’t know where my sister is, but...if I had to have someone buy me at this damn place it’s this woman. I reach into my pocket and grab my black card.
“Here.” I press it into her hand.
“What’s this?” She gives up looking for her grandma for a moment to stare down at the titanium card.
“It’s my credit card. I’m going up there”—I jerk my thumb toward the stage—“in about thirty minutes, and they’re going to auction me off. Buy me.”
“What? No. I don’t—I’m not here for that.” She tries to give me the card back, but I dance out of her way.
“Cinderella, if you don’t buy me, I’m going to turn into a pumpkin. Don't let that be on your conscience.” I keep moving toward the anteroom, allowing the crowd to separate us.
“That’s not how the fairy tale goes. I’m the one that turns into a pumpkin.” She jabs a thumb at her chest—her smoking hot, silk-covered chest.
“It’s the carriage, babe.”
“What?”
“It’s the carriage. The carriage turns into a pumpkin,” I yell over the heads of the attendees. Some look in my direction. I give them a wink and disappear back into the anteroom.
Petersburg is slumped into the corner. Scarlett stains his dark, aristocratic cheekbones. His bow tie is askew, and a flask is gripped tight in his fist. My man is drunk as hell. I saunter over and pull him into a sitting position.
“What are you so happy about?” he grumbles.
“I got my auction bid worked out.”
“Bully for you.” He drunkenly pushes my hand away, but in his inebriated state, he misses. I have to catch him before he topples over onto his face.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “Thought you had your deal with your sister every year.”
“She’s gone.”
“What?” I tighten his bow tie.
“She’s gone. She texted me that she had a flat and Triple A won’t be able to come for forty-five minutes.” He lifts fear-filled eyes to me. “What if one of them win me?”
“Which one?”
“Any of them. Man, I am a nice boy and not cut out for these barracudas. I’ve heard Ben’s stories. We all have. Don’t let them have me, Gant,” Petersburg pleads.
“He needs to save himself,” Jay Kohn yells from across the room. “I heard the Biederman twins are going to bid a hundred on him tonight.”
The guys erupt in a chorus of howls and hoots. Petersburg’s expression grows sympathetic.
Apprehension snakes up my spine. “Who are the Biederman twins?”
“The artsy ones.”
“Yikes.” I grimace. “Well, I’ve got it worked out. A hundred? I can cover that.”
“It’s a hundred thousand, not a hundred dollars,” Petersburg informs me.
I nearly let him fall on his face. “What the fuck?”
“I hear it’s not so bad. They heat the place up so you’re nice and sweaty and hard for them.” Petersburg slaps my shoulder. “They only touch you a little bit. To position you.”
Sweat rolls down my back. “Cinderella’s going to save me,” I tell him but I’m feeling a little less confident than when I walked into the room. Maybe my plan wasn’t so great?
Chapter Four
Paislee
I stare at the credit card in my hand. It looks fancy and has some weight to it. It’s a lot like the one my grandma shoved into my purse a few weeks ago and insisted I use. But I haven’t used it yet.
I haven't had a reason to. I’m living in a house that is almost the same as some fancy spa that serves amazing food. Everything I could ever want is at my fingertips. A life that will surely take some getting used to.
The only thing I’ve paid for is my phone bill because that is my only bill at this point. In the blink of an eye, Carol had my things from my small apartment moved into storage. My lease had been up anyway. I’d planned to re-sign it, but here I am.
My grandmother reassured me that if I wanted to go back home after a few months she would make that happen for me. The only real worry I have is that I will have to find a new job. I’m sure my position has been filled already. I weighed the pros and cons of uprooting my life and thought why the hell not. There was nothing holding me to any place since my mom passed.
“Planning to bid on one of the men?” I look over to see my grandma smiling at me. “It’s about time you used that card.”
“It’s not mine.” She actually rolls her eyes. That brings a smile to my face. Her realness is a big reason why I’ve warmed up to her so quickly. She doesn’t pull any punches, and I respect that about her.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re an Abbott. You have a trust like everyone else.” She keeps telling me, but I don’t care about any of that.
“I mean this isn't mine or yours. It belongs to—” I read the name off the card. “Gant Fréres.”
“Oh.” She takes the card from my hand to look at it. “Why do you have Gant’s card?”
“He asked me to bid on him and gave me his card. I’m not even sure what I’m doing.”
“You’ll need this.” She shoves a paddle into my hand with numbers on it. I swear it appeared out of thin air.
“Were you planning to bid on someone, Grandma?” Maybe that’s why she had that mischievous look on her face earlier. Her bidding on someone sounds fun. I never thought about her dating before. Her face turns soft at me calling her Grandma. I’m getting better at it.
“You never know.” She gives me a wink.
“I can’t bid on him.” Shyness hits me thinking about having to bid. I know it’s silly. It isn’t rocket science. All I have to do is hold the paddle up when it’s my turn to bid. My only problem with it is that everyone will be looking at me, and I hate drawing attention to myself. News of me even existing has shined a bright enough light on me.
“You saw him, right?” My cheeks heat. Yeah, I saw him. The man wasn't only freaking handsome, he towered over me, making it impossible not to see him. There was something about him that pulled me toward him from the moment I saw him. “With how red your face is turning I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Grandma!” She only laughs at my shyness.
“You're so different from a lot of the ladies around here.” My stomach drops instantly. I’d been thinking the same thing when we first got here. “It’s refreshing. I would have loved to have met your mother. You turned out so sweet. I could have learned a few tricks from her on parenting.” I don’t know if I want to cry at how sweet that is of her to say or laugh because she’s making a jab at her son.
Before I can try to do either, the announcer comes over the speaker, letting everyone know it’s time to start the audition.
“Let’s get back to our seats. You’ve got a man to buy,” she says, snagging a glass of champagne off the tray from the server that walks by before handing it to me. “Drink. It will calm your nerves. If you realized that you have the attention of every man as soon as you enter a room, you wouldn’t be nervous about bidding. People have been stealing glances at you all night.”
“No.” My eyes drift across the room as Grandma moves us toward our table. We haven't sat at it all night. She’s been too busy introducing me to everyone. I think she has mom glasses on when she looks at me because she thinks I’m the prettiest thing that ever lived. I appreciate her kindness, but I think she’s mistaking the reason why everyone has been looking at me all night.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight. I know you are all anxiously awaiting our annual charity auction. So without further ado, let’s get started.”
We sit down in our seats as the first man comes out onto the st
age. He’s cute, but not as hot as my man. No, he’s not my man, I correct myself so my brain doesn't get the wrong idea. He’s the man I’m bidding on because I’m a nice person and some of these women are freaking aggressive.
“What do I have here?” the man next to me says, giving me a smirk. “I’m Sean Campbell.” He holds his hand out for me to take. I do. He holds it for a brief moment. “You don’t have to buy a man, beautiful. I’m more than willing to take you out to dinner anytime.” He leans down, kissing the top of my hand.
“Paislee.” My grandma nudges me. “Don’t even think about it, Campbell. That’s my granddaughter.” My sweet grandma gives the man a look that could kill. He quickly drops my hand. “You're up, sweetheart.”
I jerk my head back toward the stage to see Gant standing off to the side, his eyes glued on Sean before they move to me. Our attention remains focused on each other, and everything else fades away. That is, until the woman across the table screams out her bid.
Another woman screams out a higher bid quickly. These women aren't messing around. I think I might be in way over my head.
Chapter Five
Gant
Marguerite Abbott. That’s who the girl’s eyes reminded me of, and now I know why. They must be related. Marguerite's a nice woman. Her son’s a grade A asshole who has tried to stick his diseased dick in every warm hole from one ocean to the other. He made a pass at Mom at Dad’s funeral, saying that if her bed got cold he’d be willing to warm it up.
At ten, I wasn’t fully grown, but I had the temper of an adult. I punched the fucker in the gut and then stabbed him in the crotch with a fork. It’s safe to say the man hates me, but probably not as much as I hate him. The woman must be his niece, because Abbott only has two sons, and they’re both dipshits.
I wouldn’t let either of the Abbott brothers even breathe near my sister. His daughter wouldn’t be much better. The adage about the apple not falling far from the tree exists for a reason. A niece, though...I rub a hand under my chin...maybe I shouldn’t have given her my card and asked her to bid on me.
“Don’t be nervous. Everyone’s first time hurts,” Petersburg hiccups in my ear, misreading my unease.
“Thanks, man.” He seems a lot less agitated than previously. “You stopped drinking,” I notice.
“Sister called in and is using a proxy.” He points beyond me toward a blob in the crowd that I can’t make out.
“Have her bid for me, too.”
“Thought you were going to get saved by a Disney princess.”
I move him so he’s facing the chairs where Cinderella and the grande dame Abbott is seated. “You see Marguerite Abbott?”
He squints. “Sort of.”
“The woman next to her. She look like Dale or Ralph Abbott to you?” I name both the brothers off.
“Don’t think so but who can tell from here? I didn’t think they had a sister.”
“I didn’t either.” I back away from the curtain and drag Petersburg with me. The stage manager is glaring in our direction.
“Neither of our moms have tried to marry us into the Abbott family, so it must be dicks only in the house.”
“That sounds right.” I don’t bother to correct his assumption, but my mom would cut off her arm before marrying me into the Abbott family. She holds a mean grudge, not that I would be interested in the first place. “I think it must be a cousin.”
“She’s pretty.”
“You blind?” Now the manager is motioning for me to come forward. It’s time to go put my body up for sale. My feet refuse to move.
He scowls. “No. I’m a pilot, for fuck’s sake.”
“She’s gorgeous. Pretty is a word you use for flowers and dogs.”
“Dogs are pretty?”
“Petersburg,” I say in an exasperated tone.
“What?” He throws up his hands. “I can’t see anything from here. It’s too damned dark.”
“Remind me never to fly at night if your hands are on the wheel.”
“It’s a yoke and not really a wheel, and it only moves the nose of the plane, plus we have the throttle.” He motions pushing a shift bar forward.
I throw my hand up. “I got it, Petersburg. Don’t need a diagram.”
“Sounds like you do,” he grunts. “I’ll take a better look after the auction.”
“The hell you will.” I don’t need a bunch of thirsty bachelors panting over my Cinderella. “Find your own damned Disney princess.” I stomp off toward the stage curtains.
“You ready, Mr. Fréres? If I had a few extra dollars, I would certainly bid on you.” The manager smiles brightly, her lips blood red against a set of very white teeth. She looks a little like a vampire, and the glint in her eyes indicates that she’d like very much to latch on to my neck and suck me dry.
I take a small step back. “I’m a virgin. I’m sure I’d be a disappointment.”
My admission only fires her excitement. Her tongue comes out to snake across her bottom lip. “Maybe I should check my credit card limit.” She swipes a finger across my tie.
“Wendy, stop terrorizing our bachelors.” Another woman about my mother’s age comes over to inspect me. The tension in my shoulder eases. “You’re quite the nicely formed young man, aren’t you?” The tightness in my back returns at the predatory gleam in the new woman’s face. “You must be Dotty’s delicious son everyone talks about. A high school teacher, right?”
I nod.
“Well, I might just place a bid on you myself.” She leans in, a sour minty smell wafting past my nose. “The benefit of being older is having a deep pocket.” She winks and reaches out to trail a hand down the front of my tux.
I drop my hand to block her groping touch.
“He says he’s a virgin,” says the younger woman.
“You should put that in the auction text. It’ll play well with the crowd, and they will never know the truth. It’ll be our little secret.” She winks as if she thinks I’m a saucy piece of work before sauntering off.
“I don’t think your lie about your v-card worked,” Petersburg whispers in my ear.
I turn to see him at my shoulder, lined up and ready to be put on the chopping block. I don’t bother to tell him or anyone else that it isn’t a lie. People think that all men over the age of fifteen should be pounding their dick into anything that moves, but I’ve seen what kind of damage that can do and never wanted to be that kind of guy. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know what to do. I’ve read plenty of material. I know how to touch a woman, find her pulse points, listen to her moans, figure out what turns her on—and off. You don’t need hands-on experience for that. Having sex with someone is special, and I plan to wait until I find the right woman—someone pink with light green eyes, golden hair, and a perfect Cupid’s bow mouth.
I straighten my shoulders. Time to be won by my princess.
Chapter Six
Paislee
“Here he comes.” My grandma nudges me. I bite my lip, not sure I can do this. These women are out for blood. No wonder he asked me to bid on him. He pulls at his collar, looking uncomfortable. I wonder if he’s nervous. He still keeps shooting glares at the man next to me. I wonder if they know each other.
“You can do it if you want.” I try and hand the paddle to my grandma, but she only laughs. I guess I’m on my own.
“You’ve got it,” she encourages me as the bidding starts. The announcer doesn't even get a starting number out and a woman across the room is shouting ten grand. My mouth falls open. As I thought, these women aren’t playing around. They are here to win.
“Did you think he’s really going to want me to bid that much? I’m not even sure if I have a limit. What if I spend more than he wants me to?” I fire off the questions. My nerves have definitely taken over.
“You don’t have to use his card sweet, girl. You have an account of your own,” she reminds me for the hundredth time. “He’s also a Fréres. He’s a trust fund baby too. I’m sure there is no
limit.” I have to admit that the knowledge of him being a trust fund baby kills a little of my attraction to him. My experience with these sorts of people has been limited to my own half-brothers. They are douchecanoes.
I guess we could add my good old dad into that category as well. Fréres does scream money, but it felt like there was something else there when I ran into him. He was normal and down to earth. He was easy to joke with. Something I’ve found hard to do with anyone around here. Except my grandma. In saying that, he did need me to do something for him, so that may be why.
When another girl shouts out twenty thousand, I almost fall out of my chair. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wrap my mind around the kind of money these people have.
“You make more than that in interest in a year.” I jerk my eyes away from Fréres to look back at my grandma. “Bid!” she shouts. I raise my paddle in a knee-jerk reaction.
“Thirty!” Was that my voice? Did those words actually fall from my lips? Holy crap. My mouth instantly goes dry knowing everyone is looking at me now.
“There you go. Show these rich bitches who’s going to win,” my grandma says with the biggest smile on her lips and a look of pure determination.
“Aren't we rich bitches too?” I whisper under my breath. Before she can answer me, I have to bid again. The exotic-looking beauty at the next table glares at me. I mouth I’m sorry to her. Again a knee-jerk reaction. It felt right to apologize. She looks away from me confused but undeterred as she raises her paddle to bid again.
“Forty-two,” she says. Fréres is staring right at me. My heart gives a weird flutter that his eyes have remained on me this entire time and not the other beautiful women that have bid on him. I give him a look, silently asking if I should keep going. He gives a small nod, making my heart flutter again.