Auction Time: Bad Boy Bachelors of Orange County BK3

by Gray, Khardine

  Control.

  I had it. It was what gave me that sass that allowed me to take charge of my relationships.

  I called the shots and decided what happened. I was the one who decided what I wanted to do and who with. The me of the past, the me before Eric, loved being the free-spirited bird, and the damn truth was, the version I’d become of myself after him was a woman who didn’t want anyone else.

  I couldn’t control that.

  I had no control over that, or over the fact that I’d wanted to have last night forever.

  So, I’d freaked out. The thought of everything tormented me and pestered me as I lay in his arms listening to his heartbeat. It drove me out of his arms and sent me home.

  I had given myself to him, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do after.

  It was as if it suddenly dawned on me who and what Eric was.

  Truth was truth, and Eric was a celeb athlete who played for a team my father owned. The same team that won the Super Bowl two years running, and Eric had women falling at his feet.

  We had fun. I had fun. But what kind of idiot was I to stay and wait around for him to truly cast me aside when the next piece of ass came onto the scene? It wasn’t like it couldn’t happen.

  This morning when I got home, the first thing that greeted me was a text from Abby showing me the leaderboard with practically every woman in Orange County already doing the visual bid on Eric. It stood at four million.

  Me against four million.

  Really?

  I didn’t think so.

  I got to work and was pleased to see all my sisters in the meeting room. There was a box of jelly donuts on the center of the table. I barely said good morning to them before I dived in practically headfirst.

  “Gosh, someone’s hungry.” Vanessa giggled.

  I didn’t eat last night, and this was my first meal at midday.

  “I’m starving,” I told her.

  “We can see that,” Taylor bubbled, and Abby joined in.

  “Please tell me you checked the message this morning.” Abby raised her brows.

  I focused on her. “I saw it,” I answered and took a seat next to Vanessa.

  “And?” she prodded.

  “It’s great.”

  “Great? Are you kidding? Four million votes, Mia. That is phenomenal. Holy hell. And the tickets are sold out.”

  I widened my eyes at that. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, unlike you, I do not kid. We sold five hundred tickets at a hundred dollars apiece.”

  “It’s true.” Vanessa smiled. She looked really proud of herself, as she should be. She worked really hard on getting the venue arranged.

  Abby smiled wider. “And guess who the women are all coming for?”

  My guy. Except he wasn’t mine.

  “Yes, they all want him. Every last one of them.” They completely missed the sarcasm in my voice.

  “I’ll bet that Tiffany Van Den Hough will easily bid a million on him,” Taylor bubbled, rubbing her hands together. “I’m banking on it. She loves athletes, and she was in the lead with the trending comments on Twitter this morning.”

  Tiffany, the Van Den Hough bitch from high school who had given me a hard time when I wore braces and broke my leg.

  She thought she was all that just because her mother owned Parker Studio Makeup and all the top models and celebs used it. Her family were just as rich as ours but were a bunch of assholes with one scandal after another. Then again, I probably shouldn’t say that because while my immediate family were the average kind, my uncles and cousins could have had their own soap opera or at the very least a weekly appearance on Jerry Springer.

  They were right up there with Tiffany and hers with the deception, lies, cheating, blackmail, and all manner of shit.

  God knew how many men Tiffany had slept with and blasted it all over social media. And she was popular. Keeping up with the Kardashians popular.

  Yes, I could see her voting on Eric and having him.

  The thing was, I could see him having her too.

  She was his type.

  “Or, Amanda Bolton,” Taylor added. “She and Tiffany were competing yesterday in the comments under our promo post.”

  Vanessa cut me a glance, as did Abby.

  They both looked to me, and Taylor looked for clues as to why.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Don’t you what me.” Abby shook her head.

  “Something I missed?” Taylor cut in. Of course, I forgot she didn’t know about me and Eric. At least I could count on Abby and Vanessa to keep a secret, not that I’d told them it was a secret.

  “No,” I answered quickly.

  “Oh my gosh, girl. Don’t let me bring out that stupid duck saying again.” Abby chuckled.

  “Please don’t.” Funny as it was, I was in no mood to laugh.

  “Take it from me,” Abby began, waving her hand to catch my attention. “If I were you, I’d bid on the man. Just do it.”

  Taylor’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Does my sister finally have her eyes set on one single guy?

  She and Abby laughed. It was like since they’d both gotten married, they had this clique that I didn’t quite fit into. Maybe this was how Vanessa felt when we’d formed the ‘We’ve had sex and you haven’t club.’

  “I don’t,” I answered and stood up. I couldn’t do this. It was all very good, but I didn’t want to sit here and listen to whether or not Tiffany or Amanda or whoever else was going to get Eric for the evening.

  I was Mia Cartwright, a woman of confidence and strength, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had this awareness about myself in comparison to those other women who I really didn’t like. I’d never compared myself or felt inferior to anyone. Not until now.

  “Where are you going?” Vanessa asked.

  “I …” I felt completely foolish when a tear ran down my cheek.

  It made them take note that something was up with me.

  “Mia, what’s wrong?” Abby rushed over to me.

  “I’m fine. I just need a moment.” I rushed away before either of them could say anything. I headed to my office, but whom I saw waiting outside in the foyer made me stop in my tracks.

  It was Eric. He was here again, but the usual spark he held in his eyes wasn’t there.

  In fact, he looked pissed.

  He came up to me and stopped a breath away.

  “Hi.” He spoke first.

  “Hi,” I answered trying to meet his gaze without feeling worse than I already did.

  “You left this morning.”

  Okay, here was the part where I was supposed to stand by the airy-fairy decision I’d come to, to take back control. I was supposed to tell him just that.

  “I … Eric, this thing between us is…” What was I supposed to say other than that it was beautiful and the type of crazy whirlwind people dream of?

  He was a mega hot guy who liked poetry and the ballet and took me to see shows and talked Shakespeare with me.

  “What is it?” he asked, gaze clinging to mine.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Nothing felt more wrong than my answer, and I didn’t think it was what Madam Phoebe’s guidance meant. This wasn’t fixing the flaw. It was me running away.

  “Okay…” He nodded. “Well, I’ll see you around, then.”

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  I knew why he’d treated me the way he did eighteen months ago; we never even talked about it, and it looked like we never would.

  Just now felt like I’d screwed up, but I was too afraid to allow myself to lose control the way I had last night.

  If I did again, then I knew I’d fall. I’d fall for him, and then I would be truly lost.

  Lost to a man who’d hurt me. It didn’t matter the reason; I was still hurt.

  We’d had fun last night. We’d had fun eighteen months ago getting to know each other, but maybe this was for the best.

  Chapter 15
>
  Eric

  * * *

  When I needed to blow off steam and couldn’t play football, I played basketball.

  I had a court set up at the back of my house to play, and some evenings I shot some hoops before I went to bed.

  I’d always been told I had too much energy to burn for my own good.

  Today, I had energy and steam.

  I pretty much blew off everyone and everything because I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody or see anyone.

  When I had women trouble, I usually turned to Gilly. He’d always had an answer for me, but then my women trouble prior to Mia had always been about women who I didn’t care about as much as I had her.

  Well, today it was over.

  Over. And I guessed she was done with me.

  I wished like hell I could have been done with her too.

  But, oh no, I was here blowing off steam because of her, trying to figure out a way to forget her.

  I wished that I could forget her as easily as she’d decided we weren’t a good idea.

  Funnily enough, last night we’d felt like the best idea I’d ever had.

  I dribbled the ball and leapt into the air when I got to the hoop for a slam dunk.

  Someone started clapping and I whirled around to see Rory standing on the terrace.

  I saw him, and the tension somewhat left me.

  “Hey, kid. You don’t answer your phone anymore?” He held up his phone. “Not like you to bail on me.” He chuckled. Damn it, I’d completely forgotten I’d arranged to meet him for lunch today.

  “Oh my God, shit. I’m so sorry. My head’s all over the place today.” I felt worse for being caught playing basketball. Better if I were actually busy. “I lost track of time.” Only by several hours.

  “No worries, man. I just came to check on you, but if you’re busy, we can reschedule.” He grinned.

  I shook my head. There was something comforting about his presence that I really needed right now. “No way, man. It’s good to see you.”

  He walked closer with a warm smile on his face, and I remembered the days we’d spend in the park playing football. Back then, nothing was better than hanging out with my Uncle Rory. Didn’t know that in truth, it was more the case of nothing being better than hanging out with my father.

  “Got me worried there for a minute. I thought you might not want to hang out with a jailbird anymore,” he joked, but in his eyes I could tell he was actually being serious.

  “Oh, please.”

  “Want to play football in the park? Looks like you need to burn off some steam. Looked like you were, I should say. Everything okay?”

  “Women,” I breathed, but really it wasn’t women. It was one specific one. “One woman. The strangest girl I’ve ever met.”

  “Yeah? Want to talk?”

  “Best not to.” Because I actually didn’t know what to say. He would most probably tell me to give up the chase, or the goose, as Mia said once. Giving up is something I knew was the wisest, and it was basically the plan. I just hadn’t reached that conclusion in my mind yet.

  “Well, if you need to talk, you know I’m here.” He gave me a reassuring pat on my back and walked over to the shed where I kept the balls. He grabbed a football and came back to me. “You ready to play some real ball?”

  I chuckled and nodded. “Oh yeah.”

  * * *

  We played until the sun went down and it started to rain.

  It was like old times. Exactly like old times with Rory still giving me pointers on what to do.

  By my record and years of experience, I probably didn’t need them, but he was a guy who loved perfection, and that’s what he did for me. He saw things that no one would normally point out. Like where I failed to bend my knees when I got the ball, and if I did, I could either be much faster if I decided to run with the ball or access a wider range of movement if I were tackled.

  If there was something I could improve on, he totally spotted it.

  We walked back to my house allowing the rain to cool us off and ordered a pizza when we got in.

  Then we talked and did more catching up. All the while we talked, I felt a combo of guilt for carrying the secret and also eagerness to talk to him about it.

  It wasn’t until ten o’clock came when suddenly we got to the subject of Dad. Apparently, he’d pulled his investments on Rory’s business, and he was having to start from scratch.

  “He actually did that?” I asked. It was stupid to be surprised. It was definitely the sort of thing Dad would do.

  “Yeah, sure did. So, I’m screwed big time.”

  While Rory was in prison, his business and assets had been frozen. Things were always up and down for him, but my theory was, it was like that because his heart wasn’t into accounting.

  “Is there anything I can do?” I offered.

  “No, kid, I don’t want you to do anything. This is on me, although it didn’t escape me that I no longer have any form of bills or debt.” He gave me a curious, knowing stare.

  I smiled. When I said I would take care of everything, I’d meant it. I did. I paid everything off, and he barely had a utility bill to pay.

  “Don’t you dare tell me I can’t help you out,” I chided.

  “Well, I was about to, but I’ll say thanks instead. You helped me out big time. I have to start over, and I’m not sure where to start. No one will hire me with my record. I’m wondering though if I really should go back into finance. I actually hate it.”

  “’Cos it’s not football?” I offered, and he nodded.

  “Nothing could replace it for me, and I didn’t become a coach because I couldn’t bear the thought of teaching guys something I loved and could no longer do.”

  “You taught me. Taught me everything, and look how I turned out.”

  “You’re different.”

  “Yeah, I figured, but still. Maybe it’s something to consider. Rory, you played for the Patriots. Something like that doesn’t just go away. It’s with you for life.”

  He smiled at that. “Yeah… I hear you. Maybe you’re right. I should do something. Just got to figure things out here first.” A serious expression washed over his face.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No, it’s not something anyone can help with. It’s just something I have to accept and move past.” He held my gaze and somehow, I knew he was talking about me. “Sometimes it’s just too late and you can ruin a good thing by pushing forward what you want.” He shrugged.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I realized that what I want doesn’t actually matter. Eric, I can’t apologize enough to you for what happened to me. I never wanted you to see me like that. I just lost control and my handle on everything. I keep remembering the shock on your face when you saw the drugs. Can’t get that out of my head.”

  “I’m sorry. I just… it’s you. You said you would beat the shit out of me if you ever found out I was using.” I tried for lighthearted in my tone, which worked because he chuckled. “I must have been eight years old, and you drilled it into my head so deep that I never tried it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. The reason why I was so hard on you was because I had too many firsthand experiences with drugs, and I didn’t want you wrapped up in that world. I stopped in college when I realized I wanted to take football seriously, and I didn’t touch another drug until eighteen months ago.”

  There was a shift in the atmosphere and the tone of his conversation that opened the door for me. It was the opening that might give me the chance to tell him what I knew.

  “What happened?” I asked trying to keep up the pretense of not knowing. It was easy to guess. I just wanted to hear it from him to keep the conversation in motion.

  “I was just… Well, you never got an explanation for why I did what I did, and I wanted to try and give you one. It was just hard at the time. But maybe now I can give you something.” He pressed his lips together for a second, t
hen continued. “I found something out that sent me over the edge. That’s what happened. So, I turned to the dark side and the hardest stuff I could get my hands on to forget. The whole securities fraud was a mess and a half too because one of the clients I worked for was quick to catch on to what I was up to and did me in. Good. It served me right because I was doing it and abusing my duty of care and trust to fund my little drug habit. I don’t ever want to be like that again. I don’t ever want to disappoint you like that ever again. You’re my one good thing I have in this world, kid. My one good thing. Nothing else matters.”

  I stared at him, watching the proverbial door open wide before me, beckoning me inside.

  So much had happened today. It started with Mia rejecting me, and now there was this heartfelt talk with the one person I actually had as a parent in my life.

  “Thank you. Thank you for always being there. You’re my good thing too,” I answered. “And that’s why I… I should tell you there was something I learned eighteen months ago too.”

  He looked me over, and something flickered in his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite tell if it was fear or anticipation. Or both. The more he looked at me though, the more it felt like he might have figured it out. There was only one thing that happened to the both of us eighteen months ago.

  “What was it, son?”

  I smiled at his mention of the word ‘son.’

  “I know, Rory…”

  He tensed. “What? What do you know?” His voice took on a frail edge.

  I pulled in a deep breath and straightened. “I know you’re my real father.” There… I said it. I said it, and he looked at me with wide eyes.

  He stood up and brought his hand to his temple.

  “How did you find out?” He blew out a sharp breath.

  “It’s a long, twisted story, but it doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know I knew, and it’s not too late.”

  “God… Eric… I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to ruin what you have, or what you’ve grown up knowing.”

  “No, that wouldn’t have happened. I want to know you as my father. You’ve been this person who gave me everything.”