But I hadn’t had the chance to sleep in for so long, and the plush comforter was swallowing my body and whispering promises into my ears of warmth and sleep. My muscles sunk into the bed, and I almost allowed myself to be pulled in, until a very funny thought crossed my mind.
The bed was too empty. And my house too quiet.
With a groan, I pushed myself out of the bed and walked down the hall from my room. The door was open, and I tried remembering if I left it open or if she did.
“Kiddo,” I said as I entered the room. “What’s the point of having you around if you’re not going to wake me up?”
A figure rolled up in a tight blanket moaned in her blue bed bedazzled with real diamonds and way too much glitter. My mother had gone a little crazy with the whole grandmother role.
“Hey, kiddo? Are you awake?” I said again and sat on the edge of the bed. A soft, blonde curl lay across a pillow, and as the figure moved, more curls fell alongside it.
“Not yet,” a whiny voice cried. I laughed. Seemed like we had something in common.
“Abby?” I asked and got no reply. Her bed was big enough for both of us to lie side by side, or her dangling across my chest and off the bed. I scooted in close and nestled beneath the blankets. “Oh, Abby,” I whispered. “I see you in there. How about you come out and make my day brighter.”
A light blue eye peeked out from a set of thick eyelashes, and her rosy cheeks failed at hiding a smile, but she stayed still, and the eye closed.
“You’re still sleeping, huh?” I said, and as confirmation she made a loud snoring noise. “Oh, too bad, because if you weren’t sleeping, I wouldn’t have to do this!” I yelled and furiously tickled her.
Abby, my wonderful 3-year-old daughter who often claimed that tickling betrayed her sense of trust—thanks Nick, for teaching her that phrase—exploded with laughter and desperately tried to escape my hands.
“Now you’re awake?” I asked as we both settled down.
“Yes, Daddy.” She playfully slapped my hand. “With my lack of trust.”
“You don’t know what that means,” I reminded her, but she loved to repeat it.
“Is today a fundraiser?” she asked, not for the first time. She’d been going on and on about getting to go to the event and had even begged me to let her choose what she got to wear.
“Yes, Abby. Today’s the fundraiser. Are you excited to go with me?” I was thrilled when my name appeared on the donor list of the Children’s Jump for the Sky event, a local fundraiser that raised money for public schools. It wasn’t that I didn’t donate to my fair share of charities, but it’s nice to be asked. The best part was seeing Abby’s face light up when I asked her to come along.
“I get to dress up!” she squealed. “With glitter, and rhinestones, and diamonds, and lipstick.” She just loved repeating every single word she heard. “Daddy, where’s your lipstick?”
“Stop listening to everything Uncle Nick says,” I said. “And I don’t have lipstick. Plus, you’re way too young for that, and you don’t need it. You’re beautiful without it. Now, get dressed so we can go to the fundraiser.”
“Is Uncle Nick there?” she asked as she ran into her walk-in closet. I wondered often if maybe it was a bit much for a toddler, but she loved her closet.
“We’re picking him up at his house,” I said. “I’m going to get your breakfast ready; meet me downstairs when you’re done.”
“Mushroom and onion omelet?” she asked, hope blossoming in her voice. “Is it a mushroom and onion omelet?”
I smiled. Any other child would literally run from an omelet with mushrooms and onions in it, but my Abby loved them. It helped that Nick had told her that’s what all the Disney princesses eat.
“And spinach,” I added and left, chuckling as she screamed with excitement and rushed to get the rest of her clothes on. It didn’t take much to please her.
I plated her breakfast and waited next to the marble table. Abby bounced down the stairs in a bright pink shirt made of satin, and a blue wool skirt. “How do I look, Daddy?” She reached the bottom of the stairs and twirled in circles.
It didn’t match, that much was obvious, but I wasn’t about to discourage her creativity or damage her spirit; besides, I didn’t know anything about fashion, either. “You look beautiful, darling. You’ll be the prettiest girl there.” I pulled out her chair and she climbed in, struggling in the wool skirt, but finally getting herself righted in the chair so she could see her omelet. She picked up her fork and I watched as she took the first bite and gave me a thumbs up.
After she’d finished her breakfast, we left holding hands. “Does Uncle Nick have lipstick?” Abby asked swinging our arms as we walked to Nick’s house.
I contemplated the question. “None that you’d want to use,” I said, and made her promise that she wasn’t going to slather paint on her lips.
She looked up at me with narrowed lids, her chin lifted and set in a way that made me wonder what she was thinking. Finally, she found her question. “How many people are going to be there?”
“Lots of people, I don’t know the exact number, but hundreds.”
Before I could take another breath, she asked another. “What is it for?”
I glanced down to find her staring at her feet as she walked. “A charity for children and schools.”
“I’m going to go to school soon, Daddy. Do you know everyone there?”
The questions came faster than I could answer, and I did my best. “Do I know anyone where?”
“Where is it? The fundraiser, Daddy.”
“I might know a few people.” I was sure I was a question or two behind on my answers, but luckily, we approached the steps to Nick’s door.
She’d managed to squeeze a couple more questions in on me, and I answered each one as we waited for Nick to answer the door.
I heard his heavy footsteps approaching, and then the door swung open.
“Do you have lipstick?” Abby shouted as he appeared. His hair was cut a little shorter than normal, but still fell over his ears, and he wore a tailored black and gray suit that was cut against his tall form.
He glanced at me with a puzzled expression, and I shrugged. “None that you’d want to use,” he joked and picked Abby up. It was amazing how much the two of us thought alike. Abby squealed and hugged his neck, giggling as he tickled her sides.
“You’re betraying my sense of trust, Uncle Nick!” she screamed over and over until Nick eventually sat her back down.
“Thanks for that, by the way,” I said. “You know 3-year-olds repeat literally everything they hear.” It wasn’t the worst thing she’d repeated from Nick, and I’d had to have a talk with her about a few of the words.
Nick scratched his neck as Abby held onto his other hand.
“I didn’t know she eavesdrops on me from her window,” he admitted, “But hey, I told Kelly to keep it quiet next time.”
“Uncle Nick, will you sit next to me?” Abby pulled on his sleeve and gave him the same wide eyes that she often used on me. They were irresistible. He kneeled in front of her.
He released a long breath, content to give into her, a slave to her charm. “Of course; there’s nowhere else I’d rather sit.”
I checked my watch and urged them to follow as we settled into my new car, an Alfa Romeo Giuilia. Nick always took a deep breath as he entered my car and had once admitted that he couldn’t get enough of the way it smelled. I’d teased him and told him that was my cologne, but he hadn’t laughed.
“We’ll get there about 15 minutes before the fundraiser starts,” I said, and Abby cheered.
“Uncle Nick, don’t forget, you’re sitting next to me!” she reminded him, and Nick smiled.
Parking at the fundraiser was a nightmare, which is why both Nick and I chuckled as we pulled straight into the VIP line and waited no more than a minute before an attendant took my keys and parked for me. The Children’s Foundation was a building in the middle of downtown, wi
th foot traffic from every direction. It was sleek and clean, with portraits of poorly drawn imaginary creatures hanging on every wall. Nick and Abby spent a moment critiquing them until I pointed out that the names scribbled into the corners were of children in foster care.
“Don’t repeat anything I just said,” Nick told Abby, who nodded. But Nick and I both knew we’d have to keep an eye on her. She was liable to strike up the very same conversation inside the event with a stranger. My little girl never had met one, and I’d had the ‘don’t talk to strangers’ speech with her on several occasions, each time explaining the definition.
Our table was toward the middle of the floor, and I was thankful that the guests beside us weren’t strangers. No forced, awkward conversations, at least. Maria, a wealthy startup owner, asked Abby about her hobbies, while her husband, Charles, asked me about my latest car. We bonded over the Giuilia as food arrived, and the music hushed down until a woman dressed in a smooth black dress took the stage. She began reading the names of donors to the foundation, and I was particularly happy that she wasn’t specifically mentioning the amount of the donations. I’d had that happen before, and it had embarrassed me so badly it was months before I’d attended another event. But they were all for a good cause, and I never minded opening my wallet for any one of them.
“You probably donated more than everyone else combined,” Nick leaned over and said next to my ear. I shrugged as the woman said my name. I probably did, but I didn’t want to have that conversation at any time or place.
“It’s a good cause,” I said. “But I don’t want anyone knowing how much I donated.” I kept my voice quiet, hoping my friend would understand I didn’t want to let too many people catch wind of the amount, much less me talking about money.
The woman finished reading the donors, and I held Abby’s hand as Nick and I stopped by the bar. A whiskey on ice and straight bourbon later, we walked through the floor and greeted the other donors. I knew several of them, and met quite a few I hadn’t before. All in all, it was pleasant, and at least Abby was behaving and seemed to enjoy herself.
“Maddox!” someone yelled, and I turned to find an old friend.
“Phil, how are you?” I asked. We shook hands, his old, wrinkled fingers feeling rather clammy for the chilled temperature. Phil owned a restaurant on Third Street, and I’d helped him out quite a few times on his neverending menu changes.
“Good. Just want to get this over with. Damn fundraisers never leave us alone. At least we’re about to get a nice candy show, though. Right?” he sneered, and I tried my best not to grimace. The auction part of this fundraiser was my least favorite.
“Every dollar raised is for the children,” I said and politely excused myself. My thoughts drifted as I roamed the floor, until a flash of red caught my eye and I turned to find a woman standing by herself in the middle of the floor.
She was beautiful. That word might not have been enough, but at that moment, it was the only description I could remember as my blood pumped a bit faster. Her hair, thick and long, was a dark red that was a stark contrast to her pale skin and bright green eyes, and she wore a long, shimmery black dress that hugged curves so round and voluptuous they were beginning to make me blush. Someone got her attention, and she turned toward them and smiled. It was a forced smile, I could tell easily, but a blush spread across her cheeks and her red painted lips curved. I couldn’t move.
“Daddy?” Abby pulled on my sleeve and batted her thick eyelashes at me. Ever the perfect, polite little girl in public. “May I please have some ice cream?”
The crowd around us aahhed at Abby’s politeness, and I reluctantly turned from the beautiful redhead and kneeled in front of Abby.
“Of course; let’s get you some and then sit back down.”
A chocolate sundae later, and we were back at our table as the auction began. There was a line of women waiting to stand on the stage, but my attention was everywhere else, trying to find where that beautiful woman was sitting.
“Uncle Nick, I’m sitting next to you,” Abby said. Then she asked me to move so Nick would be between us.
“I can’t remember who won last year,” Nick said as the auctioneer explained the rules for the night. The women were to be auctioned off for a date with the winning man, with all the proceeds going to the fundraiser. The ‘winner’ of the night was the woman who raised the most money.
“I don’t remember, either,” I admitted. “This whole thing is disgusting anyways. I’d rather just cut them another check and be done with it.” The women began to walk on stage.
“Funny, you totally wouldn’t have said that before you had her.” Nick gestured at Abby and gave me a nudge. I shrugged. He was right; being the father of a daughter had changed me in more ways than one.
“It just makes you realize what’s important.” I smiled as Abby ate her ice cream and stared at the women climbing the stage. She would never have to go through that, at least. There was no way I’d ever let my daughter auction herself off, not even for charity.
“Oh wow, she’s beautiful,” Nick whispered as the last woman took her spot. I groaned, knowing how Nick gets when he sees a woman he’s interested in. I turned to see what he was looking at and suddenly it was as if someone had stolen my breath.
On the stage, on unbalanced legs, stood the beautiful redhead that I had been looking for. She nervously stared at the crowd, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and crossed her arms as her bidding began.
My hand raised before I realized it. I had to have her, if for nothing more than to end the obvious pain she was in before the crowd.
“I thought this whole thing was disgusting,” Nick said slyly. “Funny how a pretty girl can change your mind.”
Abby turned and looked at Nick, and then tried getting a better look at the woman by craning her neck and finally pulling her feet up under her bottom.
I looked at Abby and then the redhead.
Something inside me stirred as my blood grew warmer. “It’s for the children, Nick.”
Chapter Six
Everly
Everyone was staring at me, and all I wanted was to jump off the stage and make a run for the exit, but that wouldn’t help anything. I’d end up on my ass after tripping over these ridiculous heels. Phil’s words, his urging reminder that this was only going to help my career in the long run, was the only thing keeping my feet in place.
The auctioneer continued to take bids, and I almost fainted at the amount these hungry, wealthy men were planning on throwing away just for a single date with a woman they didn’t know. I faked a smile on the outside, but if anyone bothered to actually look at me, they’d recognize it was forced and painful.
The back of the fundraiser, a part of the building that had been roped off and reserved for parents to play games with their children in a giant, carnival-themed party, was loud and distracting at least. It took me a moment to realize the bid was between two men, and it was over 10,000 dollars.
“Ten and one?” The auctioneer pointed at one of the men, a balding man who leered me at with hungry eyes and licked his lips far too often. He was plump in the middle, with a nose that stuck too far from his head and eyes that threatened to pop out with the smallest amount of force. The auctioneer pointed at the other man still left, and before I turned to look at him, I was already praying for him to win.
“Eleven and five,” a smooth voice said, and I saw him. A tall man leaning confidently in his seat, eyes on the auctioneer, but body turned toward me. His head was shaved, and he had a five o’ clock shadow spreading across his chin, but he was big and strong, and if I had to be honest, not bad looking.
I shook my head and reminded myself that he was participating in this gross event, and paid attention to the other people at his table. A few more wealthy business owners, no doubt, but the people directly next to the man were surprising. One was another man close to his height, with blond hair that curled at his ears and an attractive smile. I realized
he’d been staring at me the whole time.
And on the man’s other side was a little girl; she couldn’t have been more than three, with a head full of blonde curls and eyes as blue as the sky. She wore an odd ensemble of clothes, and rested her head against the blond haired man’s arm. His daughter, perhaps?
By their attire, they didn’t look like they fit in at the fundraiser. No, they seemed more like a father/daughter duo who would have more fun in the carnival with all of the other children and parents.
“Twenty.” The man sitting with the odd pair said at last. The older man dropped out, and shortly after, the auctioneer rushed me off of the stage as he started the bid for the next woman. It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to make of any of it.
A night with me was just purchased for 20,000 dollars. My knees were weak as I found Lacey and Belle waiting near the side of the stage, but I listened closely as the other women’s bids didn’t even come close to my amount.
“I’m so sorry we’re late, Everly,” Lacey said, and I took turns hugging them both. Belle, a 5-year-old dressed in such expensive clothes I never once imagined wearing at that age, looked at the crowd with wary eyes. “My date with Michael lasted longer than I expected. I had no idea you were being auctioned off though; you didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” I admitted. The final applause roared as the auction ended, and the crowd dispersed, breaking off into smaller groups to converse with one another. “My boss heavily suggested I volunteer, and if I’m ever going to get anywhere in that place, I need to keep him happy.” I found Phil, the asshole owner of the restaurant I worked at, shaking hands with the man who’d just purchased our date. “There he is now; I guess I’m meeting the lucky man.”
Lacey and Belle both turned and watched as Phil slapped the man’s shoulder and they exchanged a few words and smiles. Phil noticed me pointing them out and gestured toward us. The man paused as our eyes met, and he said something to Phil and began walking our way.
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