Fixing her with a mild look, he replied, “I do, actually.” Shrugging, he continued, “I earn way more than I need, so I have it set up that a portion of my earnings go to selected charities each month. I’d actually like to give time as well as money, but unfortunately my workload doesn’t allow for that, so I figure giving money is better than nothing.”
Good God, but the man was an enigma. Her sarcasm having been well and truly thrown back in her face, she said contritely, “I’m sorry, Elias. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. Your comments just rubbed me up the wrong way, that’s all. It’s great that you donate regularly. Inspiring, actually. But, if I may, you’ve contradicted yourself a little.”
“I have?” His eyes widened, and he picked up the nearest bottle of champagne and topped off their three glasses as he waited for her response.
She nodded. “Yes. If giving money is better than nothing, then what exactly is wrong with what’s happening tonight? A great deal of money is being given tonight. Having spoken to Alex about it, I can see both sides of the argument. I get that enjoying ourselves at a lovely evening might seem frivolous when the people that will benefit are having a horrible time of it, but no matter what is happening elsewhere, life must go on.”
She stopped, then pulled in a deep breath to steel herself for her next words. “My dad was constantly telling me that. When he lay dying, he still encouraged me to live my life. Told me to go out with my friends, to take a few days off work, to go on holiday. And he made me promise that, once he was gone, I would continue living my life. Work hard, yes, but also play hard. I can’t, in all honesty, say I’ve done a great job of the playing hard bit so far, but it’s very early days. Either way, I intend to make him proud.”
All of sudden, she was immensely glad that Elias had filled her glass. She picked it up and downed half the contents in one go, then lowered her head to find both men staring at her, clearly having no idea what to say. She chuckled. “Don’t panic, boys, I’m not about to start blubbering. And don’t worry about thinking of the right thing to say. There isn’t anything you can say. I propose we agree to disagree on this topic. We all have valid points, and they’ve all been heard, okay? So shall we just enjoy the rest of the evening? Personally, I’m looking forward to watching your fathers face off in the auction.”
Both men sagged slightly into their chairs at her words, the tension broken.
Alex spoke first. “Well said, Mia. Speaking of proposals, I propose a toast.” He raised his glass. “To Mia Harrington, the voice of reason, and an incredibly brave woman.”
Mia flushed, feeling stupid for joining in with a toast to herself, but as the three of them clinked champagne flutes, and the two men said warmly, “To Mia,” she realised their hearts were in the right place, and she could hardly chastise them for that.
They turned their attention to the stage, and soon, whatever their opinions on it, they got caught up in the excitement of the auction. It was hard not to, really, when such large sums of money were involved, and with lots that definitely warranted those sums of money. The auctioneer had started off relatively small, probably to get the room warmed up, and the first few lots were for things like one-of-a-kind designer handbags, watches, tailored clothes. Already, the charity’s bank balance was due one hell of a boost.
For the first time since the reading of her father’s will, Mia was actually disappointed she didn’t have access to his money. Up until now, she hadn’t needed or wanted it, not even for additional business expenses—but they were allowed under the agreement in any case. But as the bids came thick and fast, Mia wished she could join in with one of her own. Granted, she currently had enough in her personal current account and savings to buy one of the less expensive items—as long as the bids didn’t go too crazy—but it would be irresponsible. If she didn’t succeed in meeting her father’s stipulation—or even better, get it removed altogether—she could end up unemployed and still with a large mortgage and bills to pay. Having a cushion of cash behind her would buy her enough time to get another job without her having to worry about defaulting on any payments. There were a lot of what-ifs in her world right now, and she hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before the solicitor came back to her with a response to her query about contesting the will. At least once she knew one way or the other, she could try to plan her future accordingly.
She shook her head at her own silliness. What did she need another handbag for, anyway? Shoving the thought to the back of her mind, she relaxed and watched proceedings, conscious of the men either side of her—both so gorgeous, so intelligent, so witty. Elias could be stroppy, too, she’d discovered, but then she was sure Alex wasn’t perfect, either.
After a while, there was a break in proceedings, probably to give the poor auctioneer’s voice a rest, Mia thought.
Alex turned to her. “You all right, Mia? Not dying of boredom yet?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all. I find the auctions very exciting. It never fails to amaze me what people donate, and what people will pay for those things.”
“Good. I want you to remember this evening for all the right reasons, not because you were bored out of your mind.”
“And what ‘right reasons’ would those be?”
He gave a wolfish smile. “Oh, you know… the lovely food, the excellent company, the scintillating conversation—”
Elias interrupted with a snort. “The overwhelming arrogance, the cheesy lines…”
Mia bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she waited for Alex’s response. She didn’t think she could ever tire of the repartee between the two men. If she didn’t know better, she’d think they were brothers, with the way they teased each other so relentlessly. But then, she had no idea how long they’d known each other—their fathers were good friends, after all—so perhaps they were as close as brothers.
“Yeah, yeah, all right,” Alex replied, rolling his eyes as he reached for his champagne. “I’d like to see you do any better. You’re not exactly Jane Austen, or one of the Brontes, are you?”
Mia grabbed her own drink, hoping to mask her amusement behind the glass. She should have known better, since she almost choked on the contents when Elias shot back, “No. I’m bloody Shakespeare. Oh shit, Mia, are you okay?”
He snatched a cloth napkin from the table and handed it to her, then hurriedly poured her some water. “Here.” He took her flute and replaced it with the glass.
Mia’s face flamed, both from embarrassment, and with the effort to curb her coughing. When she finally caught enough of a breath to allow her to drink, she gulped back as much of the water as she could manage, relieved as it soothed her sore throat.
Downing the remainder of the water, she carefully put the glass down, then dabbed at her lips with the napkin, then beneath her watering eyes. “Excuse me for a moment, please,” she said, getting up, “I’m just going to use the ladies’ room and tidy myself up.” She grabbed her bag from the table.
Both men jumped up. “Yes, of course,” Alex said.
“I hope you’re all right, Mia,” Elias added.
She turned and walked away. Just before she was out of earshot, she heard Alex all but growl, “If she ditches and goes home, Elias, I’ll bloody well throttle you. Not that I could blame her.”
“No need to worry about that, mate. If she ditches and goes home, I’ll bloody well throttle myself.”
Mia couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face.
Chapter Nine
When Mia re-entered the main hall, having calmed down and touched up her makeup after her little coughing fit, it sounded as though there was some fast and furious bidding taking place. She glanced at the huge projector screen on the stage, which told her that the current lot was an incredibly rare bottle of whiskey. Bidding was currently at £10,000 and rising fast. She thought it likely that if her father were here right now, he’d be one of the bidders. He’d been quite the whiskey connoisseur.
Which gave her an idea. She hadn
’t yet gotten around to sorting out all of her father’s belongings—he’d lived in the huge house for so many years that there were things everywhere, and lots of them—but, when she did, it was possible there would be some items worth a great deal of money that she could donate to future charity auctions.
Nodding to herself, she filed the idea away in the back of her mind and made her way to the table. When it came into sight, she saw Elias and Alex leaning towards each other, deep in conversation. Were they still talking about her, or had they moved onto something else? Not much point wondering, she figured, since she’d never find out.
As she approached, they turned and saw her, then jumped to their feet. Grins spread across both their faces. She smiled back.
Elias spoke first. “Mia. Are you all right now? We were worried.”
She retook her seat. “Yes, thank you. I’m fine now. So, what did I miss?”
“Oh, things are starting to hot up now,” Alex said. “This is a single bottle of bloody whiskey and they’re willing to pay…” he looked over at the screen, “upwards of fifteen grand. Insane. I mean, do you drink it, or do you put it in a glass cabinet and just look at it? It’s either a very expensive tipple, or a very expensive ornament.”
Mia chuckled.
“Speaking of tipple,” Elias said. “Would you like another top up?”
“Yes, please. That would be lovely.” She’d lost count of how many glasses she’d had, especially since much of the time she’d accepted top ups without having fully finished the champagne still in her flute. But she wasn’t too concerned since she’d eaten a good meal and therefore didn’t feel remotely drunk.
Elias complied, before gesturing with the bottle to Alex, who nodded. “Thanks, mate. Got to take advantage of not being on call, haven’t I?”
“Absolutely,” Mia said. “As you build on your reputation, you’ll be sought after all the time, so you being fully off duty might be as rare as that bottle of whiskey.”
Alex paled. “When you put it like that… bloody hell, is it too late to jack it all in and become a plumber?”
“They can be on call, too,” Elias chipped in.
“Bollocks, you’re right. Sorry, Mia, pardon my language.”
“No need,” she replied with a smirk. “My language can be foul—just not usually in public. So… plumber is out, then. You’ll have to think of something else. Something a bit more nine to five.”
“Hmm… I will, won’t I?” He gave a theatrical sigh and pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. “Perhaps, since I’ve come this far, put all this time and effort into this surgeon lark, I should just stick with it. Folks seem to think I’m quite good at it.” He shrugged.
Elias leaned in and said sombrely, “Take no notice of him, Mia. He’s being modest. He’s bloody good at his job.”
Taken aback by the sudden switch from light-hearted to serious, she looked between the two men, wondering if they were going to burst into laughter or something. After only a couple of hours in their company, she was already learning to expect the unexpected.
But there was nothing, and as the current auction came to an end, the three turned their attention to the stage to check out the final bid value and find out what was coming up next.
“Christ,” Elias said, shaking his head. “Twenty-two grand for a bottle of whiskey. I’d want shares in the distillery for that amount of money.”
“Me too,” Mia said. “But it’s for a good cause, and it’s up to people to bid as much as they want.”
“Oh, look,” Alex put in, pointing towards the stage. “This’ll turn some heads. Bet our old men will sit up and take notice now.”
The next lot was a week in a luxury holiday home in Monaco. The three of them glanced across the table and, sure enough, Elias and Alex’s fathers were paying full attention to the auctioneer.
The auction began. It started off relatively slowly, but as bidders began to shake their heads and drop out of the running, the tension grew. Bids came thick and fast, and it soon became apparent that it was as much about the bidders outdoing each other as it was about winning the week in Monaco. And, for now, it wasn’t just the elder Pym and Cartwright taking part—there were two others.
Mia shifted her gaze from the stage to the bidders at her table—the others were on the other side of the room, so she couldn’t see them—feeling the excitement growing with every passing second. It increased further when someone dropped out of the running.
“The other one may as well give up, too,” Alex put in. “With these two involved, there’s no point, really.”
Until now, she’d thought Elias and Alex were exaggerating about the competition between their fathers, but that clearly wasn’t the case. They were a couple of seats apart—with Alex’s poor mother being the one stuck between them—so plenty close enough to exchange jibes and teasing remarks. Much like their sons, in fact. Perhaps that was where they got it from.
Eventually, the third competitor admitted defeat, to a series of triumphant crows from their table. Mia smiled as Elias and Alex visibly shrunk into their seats either side of her. “Christ,” Alex muttered, “can it be over already? They just get worse with age.”
“Tell me about it,” came the response from Mia’s other side. “Let’s just hope that whoever wins decides he’s spent enough for one evening so we can be spared the humiliation a second time.”
“I’m not holding my breath.”
Mia sipped her champagne as she avidly watched the scene unfolding before her. The bidding was now up to £25,750, and the two men were still thrusting their hands into the air without a second thought as their wives exchanged glances and shook their heads. She was sure whichever one’s husband won would be pleased at the end of it, though, since they’d be getting a luxury week on the French Riviera.
The action grew more and more frantic, the insults and barbs coming thicker and faster, until finally, as the bidding reached £30,000, Alex’s mother jabbed a sharp elbow into her husband’s side, demanding his attention. She then leaned in and whispered something into his ear. Chastened, he shook his head when the auctioneer came back to him.
“No advance on thirty thousand?” the man said into the microphone. “All right. Going once, going twice… sold at thirty thousand pounds!” He then hastily dispatched one of his assistants to collect the winner’s details.
“Thank fuck for that,” Alex said, pulling himself out of his slumped position and downing the remains of his champagne before returning the glass to the table. “I thought it’d never end.”
“Me either. Perhaps now some other poor bugger can have a go at buying some ludicrously expensive shit,” Elias added.
Mia gave his arm a playful slap. “Stop complaining, would you? Everyone here is an adult—let them do what they want with their money. Especially considering the end game.”
“All right, all right!” he said, holding his hands up, the champagne in his right hand swaying dangerously but not spilling. “It’s just those two are so bloody embarrassing.”
“Well, they’re done now, aren’t they? So shut up and drink your champagne.”
“Yes, miss!” He gave her a wide grin, then took a mouthful and swallowed before adding, “Never had you down as a bossy one.”
Raising her eyebrows, she responded, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Well then, I look forward to finding out.”
The three-way flirtation continued for some time, through auctions they only half paid attention to. Winning bidders bagged themselves exclusive hot air balloon rides, kickabouts with famous footballers, ringside seats at world title boxing matches, first class air travel for one year, boxes at the opera for a season, and six months’ ownership of racehorses, to name but a few. All excellent prizes, but ones that Mia was secretly glad were way out of her league, because if she couldn’t even come close to affording them, then she wouldn’t give them any further thought.
Despite that, she couldn’t h
elp the gasp that escaped when the auctioneer detailed the next lot.
“And now I’d like to start bidding on a weekend’s hire of a Lamborghini Aventador. A stunning prize, I’m sure you’ll agree. Usage includes both road and track driving. Can I open bidding at one thousand pounds?”
Elias leaned in. “Did I hear a gasp then, Mia?”
She turned to him, clocking the twinkle in his eye, and replied, “Yes, you did, though I didn’t mean to make a sound. I absolutely love Aventadors, but I suspect my budget isn’t anywhere near high enough to win.”
Looking impressed, and not a little surprised, Elias smiled. “Is it fair to say that driving one of those things is a dream of yours, Mia?”
She nodded emphatically. “More than that. It’s a bucket list item.”
“Right. Good to know.” During their conversation, the bidding had already reached £2,000. Elias raised his hand.
“Thank you very much, sir,” the auctioneer said, “two thousand, five hundred. Do I have three thousand?”
Mia’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Elias. His gaze was on the stage, so she poked him in the ribs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He glanced at her, a smile tweaking at the corners of his lips, then looked back in the auctioneer’s direction. “What does it look like?” He raised his hand to make another bid, then added, “I’m bidding on this lot.”
“B-but why?”
Still with most of his attention on the front of the room, he replied, “Because, Mia, I want to. I have more than enough ill-gotten gains, and I can’t think of anything better to spend them on than,” he raised his hand again, “giving someone the gift of crossing something off their bucket list, and donating a shitload of cash to charity at the same time. I know it makes me a hypocrite, given my earlier comments, but it’s worth it.”
“But you hardly know me,” she hissed. “God, it’s one thing taking someone out for dinner, and another entirely to spend,” she glanced at the screen, “in excess of four thousand pounds on them. Probably much more.”
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