by Lara Hunter
AUCTIONED TO THE SHEIKH
By Lara Hunter
And an original story by
Holly Rayner
Copyright 2016 by Lara Hunter, Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Table Of Contents:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
ONE
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Gray walls. Why did every office have to have gray walls? It was as if the owners were trying to reinforce the fact that you were their prisoners, their little worker-monkeys designed to come up with brilliant, company-saving finance strategies at a moment’s notice—which Emily Michaels gladly did.
The 26-year-old looked around the buzzing offices of Salt River Resorts, the Arizona-based developer of high-end hotels and a company she’d been pouring her heart and soul into for several years. While she appreciated the talented minds of the developers that worked for the company, she was much more comfortable in the accounts department with the rest of her people.
Emily had worked as the accounts assistant at Salt River for four years now and regarded most of her coworkers as something of a hilariously dysfunctional family. While she liked her job, she’d been promised a higher position at least a year ago, yet still sat in the exact same chair she did when the offer was made.
For the most part, Emily liked working in an office; she loved working with numbers and getting to wear office formal attire every day. The company had been good to her, overall, but her mounting bills were only highlighting her frustration with the lack of a promotion.
“Are you even listening to me?” came the low voice of Emily’s co-worker, Lindsey. She had long blond hair that was always curled to perfection and bore the unofficial title of office charity fundraiser. The two women had become close friends over the years and always kept each other up-to-date on the latest work gossip. Today would be no different.
“Yes!” Emily said quickly as her attention snapped back to her friend. She glanced over to where Lindsey was pointing. The subject of her friend’s scoffing seemed to be two office workers who were having a not-so-private moment in the kitchen. Two research assistants, Tom and Katherine, were seemingly engaged in a tickle fight.
“Ugh, look at them,” Lindsey said, her tone tinged with sadness. Tom had been Lindsey’s office crush for months now. “They’ll be dating soon.”
“He’s just…tickling her. It’s harmless!” Emily lied with a wince.
“Don’t try and make me feel better.” Lindsey rolled her eyes. “They’re all over each other.”
“She’s begging him to stop,” Emily offered. “She seems pretty annoyed, actually.”
“It’s all a metaphor. He’s ‘begging’ her to ‘stop’ being his friend. That’s going to seep into her subconscious for sure. She’s a tricky one.” Lindsey let out a big sigh. “I’m so over couples.”
“Robert still not calling back?” Emily asked of her friend’s most recent blind date.
“We don’t speak of Robert.” Lindsey narrowed her eyes and shook her finger in an over-exaggerated fashion. “Speaking of couples, you coming tonight?”
Emily had almost forgotten. Tonight was the company’s annual charity ball. Lindsey had an eye for what made a good party and a list of contacts long enough to fill a novel. In the past she’d thrown celebrations at art exhibitions, jazz nights, standup comedy shows, hot-air-balloon rides, casino nights. The list went on.
“Company ball, right?” Emily murmured, now turning her gaze away from Tom and Katherine who could now be seen at the coffee station engaging in a long, passionate kiss. Nothing too graphic, but definitely not 10 a.m. material, either. She hoped Lindsey wouldn’t see them.
“Yep,” Lindsey shrugged, grabbing a donut off of the counter. “Charity auction, if you recall.”
“Yeah, looking forward to it. Black tie, right?”
“Right, and I have a favor to ask,” Lindsey said. She scowled at the couple getting fresh before escorting Emily into her office, shutting the glass door behind them and drawing the curtains.
“This is suddenly feeling ominous,” Emily giggled.
“I just can’t stand looking at them anymore. It’s soul-crushing.” Lindsey shook her head. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
“I’ve told you yes about a thousand times. Including literally two seconds ago.”
“Great!” Lindsey grinned, setting her coffee on her desk and taking a seat. She looked up at Emily and cocked her head to the side.
“…What?” Emily frowned. “What’s the vibe I’m getting here?”
“Well,” Lindsey made her hands into a steeple. Her tone was all business, but Emily could see the smile curving around her friend’s perfectly painted lips. “We still need one more girl to sign up for the charity auction.”
“Nope! Don’t even think about it!”
“It’s for cancer research,” Lindsey pleaded. “All you have to do is sign this waiver saying we can use you as one of the dates up for grabs in the auction.”
Emily laughed. “No way!”
As successful as Lindsey’s parties were, Emily wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to be sold off like cattle at an auction to spend some fake forced date with a stranger. Or worse, somebody she knew from the office.
“Oh, why not? You’re a catch!”
Emily’s face flushed. She didn’t think of herself as a catch; not by her standards, anyway. She could certainly rock a pencil skirt at the office, but her unruly chocolate brown hair was an explosion of curls and she never knew what she was doing with her makeup.
“Don’t make me pull out the big guns, Em.” Lindsey grew quiet and Emily raised her brows with suspense. “Didn’t your aunt have cancer?”
“Yes.” Emily’s forehead creased; she’d only been about five when it happened.
Lindsey nodded sadly. “And if there were more funds going to cancer research like I’m trying to do with this fundraiser, maybe you would have gotten the chance.”
“She’s still alive!” Emily shouted with laughter. “We grab lunch once a month!”
“Even more reason to be a part of the event!” Lindsey shrugged. “Think of where you’d be without your aunt in your life.”
Emily went to speak and then paused, thinking better of it. She smiled awkwardly and pressed her eyes shut. “Linds, please, don’t make me do this. I’m way too shy for this kind of stuff. It’s a great cause, really, and I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful. But the night can go on without one more date for sale, can’t it?”
“Nope! This one’s all you, Em. You’re going to do amazing! Besides, you’re always saying how you haven’t been on a date in forever and how you need to put yourself out there more often. Why not rip that Band-Aid off nice and qui
ck at my benefit?” she asked while enthusiastically miming along with her words. “Raise some money and do some good at the same time. You’ll be a world-class multi-tasker!”
“Can I say no again?”
Lindsey shook her head. “No.”
“Why don’t you do it?” Emily teased, taking a seat across from her friend. “You’re used to blind-dates, and it’ll be the perfect way to get over Tom!”
“I’ve given up on love, remember? But you, Emily Michaels, are still a young and enthusiastic optimist. Perfect for starry-eyed rich guys looking to buy a date.”
Before Emily had a chance to protest, she and Lindsey were interrupted by a network of beeps ricocheting through the office around them.
Emily furrowed her brows at the noise and the sudden hush of silence that ensued. She opened Lindsey’s office door and looked around curiously. Everyone was transfixed by their computer screens, even more than usual.
“Come here,” Lindsey said quickly.
Emily walked over to her friend and peered over her shoulder, at the mass e-mail that had just been forwarded to everyone in the office. The subject read ‘URGENT’.
Scanning down the text on Lindsey’s computer screen, Emily’s stomach started to churn. The e-mail was from one of the company presidents and detailed how reports of embezzlement had reached the higher-ups’ attention. Someone had been stealing money from the company and they were now launching an investigation into the matter, and would be conducting in-depth interviews with most of the staff.
“Wow,” Lindsey said under her breath. “Somebody’s in trouble.”
Emily nodded but said nothing. She slowly made her way toward the door and nodded her exit to Lindsey. “I should get back to work,” she said in a small voice.
“’Kay,” Lindsey said dismissively. “Hey, Em!”
Emily peered back into the office and cocked her brows curiously.
“You think about that fundraiser!”
She breathed shakily and politely left the room, making her way back to her cubicle. She sat at her desk and looked up at her computer screen to see the same e-mail displayed on the screen in front of her. Her stomach began to twist as she clicked the box closed and quickly left her desk.
It was all Emily could do not to run full steam ahead to the restroom. Instead, she made slow strides, trying to come off cool and collected, before storming into the bathroom. She put all the subtlety she’d ever learned from awkward family dinners and relationships gone by to good use and checked all the stalls as casually as she could. Once she found that she was alone in the bathroom she could finally relent to the meltdown she was having within.
She walked to the bathroom door and locked it; heaving cold breaths in and out in sheer panic. Her stomach knotted over and over with a sick, white pain as she replayed the e-mail in her mind, full in the knowledge that she was the one who had been stealing from the company, and that soon they were going to figure everything out.
TWO
Emily had never intended for things to end up this way. She’d never stolen anything in her entire life, save for a gummy worm she’d taken out of a bin at a candy store when she was five, and even then she’d cried to the shop owner, begging him for forgiveness.
Now, 21 years later, she was still stealing and hoping for forgiveness, but the outcome wouldn’t be the same, she realized. The senior management team was going to conduct interviews with everyone, and it was only a matter of time before they found her out.
Emily’s mother, Janet, had fallen ill several months ago. She had recovered quickly from her life-threatening illness, but with no health insurance to cover the expenses, no sooner had she left the hospital than she was saddled with thousands of dollars’ worth of medical bills. Janet lived several hours away, making the ordeal especially painful; there were some days Emily simply couldn’t be there for her. In desperation, she had done the unthinkable and used company finances to pay off the medical bills. She’d covered up the theft using a bit of accounting wizardry, and fully intended to pay the borrowed cash off over a period of time. She just hadn’t expected to be found out before then, if at all.
Realizing that she was trembling, Emily began to do some breathing exercises she’d seen in an online video. They were supposed to help with stress or something. Her mind reeled, trying to come up with ways to avoid being found out, to no avail. She wondered if she should just put in her two weeks’ notice now, but figured that might look more suspicious. She could just quit right here and now, but that would only raise eyebrows, and lead them to her faster.
Emily unlocked the bathroom door and walked back over to the sink to dab some water on her face. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she choked down a guttural sob. Who had she become? This was supposed to be a small loan, that was it. She was so careful to cover her tracks; she never should have gotten caught.
She sighed as she heard her cellphone going off, and took it out from her blazer and stared down at the name. It was a text from Lindsey.
‘Signed you up for tonight. Lucky number 22! Thanks girl, you’re a lifesaver.”
Great, Emily thought. It looked like her day was only going to get worse.
***
The day wore on like a snail racing through peanut butter. Emily spent the rest of her time at work in absolute fear that any moment she was going to lose her job. She could tell everyone in her department was a bit more rigid than usual that day. After all, it was natural to assume that if anyone was stealing money from the company, the accountants would be the ones with the easiest access to cover it up.
Several hours later, after one of her most horrendous days at work, Emily found herself standing at the entrance to Lindsey’s fundraiser; she’d figured it would look suspicious if she didn’t show up, so here she was, making small talk with some of the staff as they hustled into the building.
“Thank goodness you’re here!” came Lindsey’s voice. The girl knew how to yell, that’s for certain. Her words cut clear across the crowd as she offered Emily a smile and waved in her direction.
Once she reached her friend, Lindsey gaped, eyeing Emily up and down. “You look gorgeous!”
“I do not,” Emily huffed bashfully.
“Little black dress. It’s perfect.”
Emily laughed nervously and batted her friend’s hands away. “Lindsey, I’m not going on stage!”
“Em, I’m so not kidding around right now. We really need you. You’re number—”
“Number 22, I got your text.”
“No, no, no!” Lindsey grabbed Emily’s hand and started rushing her toward backstage. “Forget about number 22, you’re number one now!”
“I beg your pardon?”
Lindsey ushered Emily through the crowds and took her into the beautiful backstage area. She always managed to find the most beautiful venues in Arizona for her benefits—old, historical buildings full of character and class. Anything less just wouldn’t be Lindsey. Emily marveled at the beautiful wooden arch that lined the hallways leading to the area behind the stage.
Once backstage, Lindsey sat Emily in front of a makeup stand; women with curling wands, flat irons, beautiful cocktail dresses, and makeup cases full of everything a girl could need to cover up and contour charged around in a frenzy. The other participants in the auction were prepping and primping in their mirrors. Emily, for her part, frowned up at her friend and finally asked, “What do you mean, first?”
“Sarah pulled out last minute. Flu, or something. You have to help me out, Emily. Please, please, pretty please?”
“Trouble with the little lady?” came a familiar voice. The source of the nasal tone was Emily’s boss, Mike Burke. He was around 40, maybe older, and he’d hit on Emily multiple times since she’d been hired, to no avail.
“Hi Mike,” Emily said, her tone friendly.
Mike nodded and raised his brows as he began, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”
“No, you could have. Very easily, in fact,
” Lindsey said with a tooth-baring grin.
“I couldn’t!” Mike insisted. “She hits the same decibels as my wife when she—”
“Ex-wife, I heard,” Lindsey beamed sarcastically.
“And here I was thinking I had to introduce myself,” Mike said awkwardly. “I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot.”
“Eavesdropping tends to have that sort of effect on relationships,” Emily said lightly, not wanting to watch an argument erupt.
“Whoa, there!” Mike exaggerated his tone and bent down to regard Emily; his eyes roving over her body before landing on her lips. “Relationship? Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? Aren’t I suppose to buy you dinner, first?”