The Auction: The Billionaire Wins a Date

by Starla Harris

  In spite of herself, Lia smiled. “Someone’s awfully confident this evening.” She felt a pleasant warmth spread in her belly. She decided to blame it on the drink.

  Travis smiled back at her. “I mean it. I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy of your attention. I can’t wait for our date.” He said this in such a boyishly excited voice that Lia couldn’t help but laugh.

  Travis emptied his drink and hopped off his barstool. He held out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

  Lia looked at him, horrified. She shook her head. “I don’t really dance.”

  Travis chuckled. “Come on. I insist.”

  “No. I mean it. I really don’t dance.”

  “And I really insist.”

  Lia felt anger color her cheeks. “Why do you have to push it? I don’t want to dance, end of story. Are you trying to humiliate me?”

  Travis sighed, his face a mask of sincerity. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to get you to have a good time. Please, humor me.” He ran a hand through his hair. The gesture somehow made him look younger. “I want you to trust me. Even though for some reason it seems difficult for you.”

  Lia looked at him. His blue eyes bore into hers, all traces of cockiness gone. She sighed. “All right. But I warn you, I’m not the best dancer.”

  Travis smiled. “You’re only as good as your partner.” He took her hand and led her to the dancefloor. Lia felt dread fill her stomach like a solid rock, but Travis didn’t seem to notice or to care. Instead, he took her in his arms and they swayed gently to the seductive rhythm of the music. “Relax. Let me guide you.”

  At first, Lia felt her whole body go rigid as she tried to lead. She hated dancing, especially the type where there weren’t any steps to learn. Where you just had to let go and let instinct take over. She hated not being in control.

  “Contrary to what you may think of me, I admire strong women. Professional women. I believe women are men’s equal in every possible sense,” Travis said softly. “Except in dancing. Because here, you just have to let me take control.” He placed a hand on the small of Lia’s back and drew her closer to him. She could feel his warm breath on the side of her neck as his hips pressed into hers. “I lead you, I guide you. For both of our sakes, you need to let me, because it’s the only way for the dance to work. I can make you shine. But you have to let me.”

  She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what she was doing. Lia felt her body react to him and relax into his. She let instinct take over.

  “Not bad,” Travis whispered into her ears. “Just listen to the music and let yourself go. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  The saxophone launched into a sensual, emotional solo. Lia’s body fit perfectly against Travis’. It didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt good and right. Underneath his smooth shirt, she could feel his chiseled chest packed with muscles. She felt herself longing to lose herself in the safety of his strong arms as they encircled her. With her eyes closed, she breathed in his deep scent--a faint mixture of mint and wood.

  Lia opened her eyes slightly and was still feeling entranced by the music when a flurry of movement caught her attention from across the room. She turned to see her friends standing on the edge of the dance floor. Some of them pretended to dance, but most just stared. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. She was acutely aware of their eyes on her. She didn’t want her friends witnessing her clumsiness on the dance floor, or worse yet, her giving in to Travis’ seductive powers. This wasn’t who she was. Annoyance rose up inside of her and she felt a powerful desire to be left alone.

  She abruptly extricated herself from Travis’ arms. “Thank you for the dance lesson,” she said curtly. “I’m tired and if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now. Either Maggie or I will call you tomorrow to arrange the date. I assume you included your number with your bid. Thank you again and good night, Travis.”

  She didn’t bother waiting for Travis to respond. She turned quickly and walked off of the dance floor leaving Travis dumbfounded and alone. She impatiently tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited to collect her coat from the cloakroom, hoping nobody would follow her out.

  Once outside the club, she flagged down a taxi and gave the driver her address. She climbed into the back seat and exhaled deeply. She leaned back in her seat and stared out the window and replayed the events of the day starting with the last minute preparations for the night’s big gala to the moment when her body was pressed up against Travis on the dance floor. No matter how she hated to admit it, she couldn’t write him off as just another lazy, stupid rich playboy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The next day, Lia woke early. The morning sun shone through the thin gap between the panels of the curtain, creating a bright strip of light that sliced the bedroom in two. Lia stretched lazily and got out of bed. She drew the curtains aside and opened the window. She was wearing nothing more than a simple camisole and pajama shorts and the crisp, fresh spring air left goose bumps on her exposed skin. She drew a deep breath in and padded to the kitchen in her pink fuzzy slippers, smiling. She loved mornings.

  Her laptop was lying on the kitchen table. Lia felt its magnetic pull. Her hand lifted the lid almost involuntarily. For a moment, she was sure she couldn’t resist the temptation to turn it on. She was dying to read the reviews from last night.

  “No!” she said out loud and slammed her laptop shut. “I promised Maggie.” It was their ritual to read the reviews of Pages’ shows together the morning after.

  Her phone pinged, announcing the arrival of a text. She opened it. It was from Maggie. ‘Hurry up, girl. I can barely restrain myself!’

  Lia grinned and ran to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, got dressed, pulled her hair into her signature ponytail and was out the door within ten minutes. She didn’t even stop for coffee and croissants. We’ll have to get them later, she thought.

  When she arrived at Pages, the stage door was already unlocked. Lia smiled as she let the door slam shut behind her with a thud. Maggie lived two blocks away, and ever since she started working at the theater almost two years ago, it was impossible to beat Maggie to work. Before that, Lia was always the first to arrive and the last to leave.

  “What took you so long?” Maggie asked as she swiveled her chair around to face Lia. “I’ve been sitting on this nuclear bomb for the past thirty minutes!” She pointed at the morning papers stacked neatly on her desk. Maggie wore a fitted gray sweater that accentuated her curves, and her wild curly hair was caught in a hairband.

  “And a good morning to you too, my dear friend,” Lia laughed as she threw her coat onto the rack and joined Maggie at her desk. “Where shall we start?”

  It was a rhetorical question. Pages was a relatively new and small theater, and they both knew that the big national papers wouldn’t mention their little fundraising gala at all. It was only the local paper that was likely to feature an article about their show. Maggie had already placed it on top of the pile. “Will you please do the honors?” she asked Lia with mock formality.

  Lia reached for the paper and opened it with trembling hands. “It’s just one opinion, right?” she said as she rustled through the pages, looking for the Culture and Entertainment section. “We know we were good. The audience loved us. Who cares what the critics say?”

  Maggie nodded eagerly. “That’s right. Critics are a different species. They’re never happy. Actually, they’re paid to be mean.”

  Lia finally found the right page and skimmed through the articles. “Let’s see. A review of the new Stanley George book, here’s a piece about Julian’s show, remind me to read it later, a preview of the National Gallery’s new temporary exhibition, Funny Fundraiser at Pages, right, that’s us.”

  Her heart beating twice as fast as usual, she cleared her throat and began to read out loud. “Pages Theater held a fundraising gala to aid its operation. The innovative and unconventional theater has been in business for a little over three years and even
though it gained a faithful core audience, apparently it’s not enough to keep Pages afloat in today’s competitive art world. The fundraising gala featured scenes from Pages’ trademark shows as well as stand-alone songs and a sneak peek at Goggles, the theater’s new production that opens later this season. The evening was sold out and the performances were stellar. The highlight of the night was Christina Van de Graaf’s closing solo. In addition to the show, the theater held a silent auction as well that brought in a surprising fifty thousand dollar bid on a single date with theater’s art director Lia Malcolm. Even though I believe that Trudy MacMillan’s words on her blog Cupcakes and Frosting are too harsh on the subject, I have to admit that this seems a rather strange attempt to keep Pages open. Even though it seems to have worked--At least for now.”

  Lia finished reading and looked up. They stared at each other for a moment before Maggie swiveled around again and tapped furiously at her keyboard.

  “What did that woman write?” she asked as she pulled up Trudy’s web site on her computer. “Not that she can write… I don’t know why she thinks she’s entitled to critique any work of art when she doesn’t know the first thing about good taste.”

  “She thinks she’s entitled to everything.” Lia felt her heart sink into her toes. “Oh no. Remember the evening I told you about? Where I first met Travis?”

  “The one at Julian’s fundraiser?” Maggie tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently as she waited for the web site to load. Her fingernails clicked a crazy staccato on the wooden surface.

  Lia nodded. “Yeah. When we were there, Trudy seemed pretty intent on gaining Travis’ attention. She couldn’t be happy about him buying that date with me. Especially for that much money…” her voice trailed off. She feared the worst. She was sure Trudy wouldn’t have many kind words about her date with Travis.

  The site finally loaded. Its background was decorated with sickly pink cupcakes drenched in white icing and colorful sugar sprinkles. Lia felt revulsion ripple through her stomach.

  The newest entry was called Pages’ Desperate Last Attempt to Stay Alive. Lia rolled her eyes. “Come on!”

  Maggie scoffed. “How dare she say it’s our last attempt? To stay alive? What does she know about us? Ridiculous!” she clicked on the link and read the entry. “I always thought Pages theater would do anything to keep people talking about it, including nudity on stage and other distasteful things they call ‘art’, but even I didn’t think they’d go this far. Even though it’s pretty clear that the world is not interested in Pages’ self-proclaimed revolutionary theater, the people behind Pages just don’t want to get the message and instead reach for increasingly desperate measures to remain in business. Last night, they auctioned off a date with the theater’s art director. I believe there’s a name for women who go on dates for money, and it starts with a w.”

  Maggie swiveled around, her face red with fury. “That… jealous little bitch…” she balled her hand into a fist and hit her desk in frustration. “Nudity on stage? That’s her problem with us? What century is she from?”

  “Her problem is that she’s not included,” Lia pointed out. She felt strangely calm, considering Trudy just attacked her online. “She’d gladly be nude on stage or anywhere else if it could get people talking about her. She wrote this entry about herself.”

  Maggie scoffed. “That’s right. But still. How dare she write we’re bad? Pages is a damn good theater!”

  Lia chuckled. “Would you prefer if she approved of us?”

  Maggie tilted her head to one side. “You’re right. It’s actually quite a good compliment that she hates us.” She smiled at her friend warmly. “I admire your level head. If it were up to me, I’d already be halfway over to her place to wring her neck with my bare hands.” She rolled up the sports section of the paper to illustrate her point. The paper rustled loudly as it collapsed in Maggie’s grip.

  Lia laughed. “Your approach has its merits as well.” She inhaled deeply and softened her tone. “But regarding the other matter. I hate to admit it, she does have a point.”

  “What, you’re agreeing with her? Why?” Maggie stared at her open-mouthed.

  Lia took a strand of dark brown hair that escaped her ponytail and wrapped it around her finger. “Do you think it’s right if we raise money this way? And not through our performances? It’s seems kind of gimmicky and slutty at the same time.”

  Maggie shook her head. “This is not a regular thing. It was just a fundraising auction.” She gestured toward her computer. “Look, it already got people talking about us.”

  “I’d much rather have them talking about our performances and not my private life.”

  “Consider it a publicity event,” Maggie interjected. “You know we could use it. Nobody knows who we are. People have to find out about us somehow, and then they’ve got to see our performances. I think your date with Travis may bring us the publicity we need to sell more tickets.”

  “And you’re doing our PR now too?” Lia said, still not completely convinced. “I really hope you’re right, I want you to know I like keeping my private life private. And I really don’t appreciate Trudy, or anybody else for that matter, talking about it. So this better be worth it.” She stepped to her own desk and fired up her computer.

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted to help Pages. And you.” Maggie apologized. “I hate seeing you slave away all the time. I wish you’d go out more and enjoyed yourself a bit. You’re not going to stay twenty-seven forever, you know.”

  Lia sighed and turned toward her. “You sound just like my mother. I know you mean well,” she said softening her tone. “And you’re probably right. For what it’s worth, it looks like it worked. I mean, look at all the money we got!”

  Maggie grinned. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. We’ve already spent it a few times over.” Lia giggled. Then a shadow came over her face. “But this reminds me. I still have to earn it. I promised Travis we’d call him today to arrange the date. Did he include his contact information in his bid?”

  “Let me check.” Maggie swiveled back toward her computer and started opening files. “Don’t tell me you’re not even a little bit intrigued about where he’s taking you?” Her keyboard clicked rapidly.

  Lia rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it’ll be something crazily over the top. Like eating gold-coated oysters off diamond-studded plates on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “The real one or the one in Vegas?”

  Lia laughed. “Both. At the same time.”

  Maggie regarded her friend for a moment. “I really don’t see why you’re that angry with him. It’s not his fault he’s rich, you know. He was born into it.”

  “Exactly,” Lia said, making her point. “He couldn’t help being born into it. But it’s his fault that he accepted everything as it was and didn’t lift a finger to do something he could call his own. He just… settled for his family’s money, taking it for granted.”

  “Well, to be fair, I don’t know a lot of people who wouldn’t do that. It’s easy to settle for billions of dollars,” Maggie pointed out.

  “It’s always easy to settle for whatever you’ve got. It’s entirely different when you’ve had to work for something yourself.” Lia exclaimed. She ran her fingers through her hair, dislocating a few strands from her strict ponytail. “Look at us. We could work for any theater. A big one or a medium one, but a successful one with secure employment and a stable future. It wouldn’t be so bad. I assume we might even enjoy it, about sixty percent of the time. But what do we do instead? Here we are, struggling for a dream, selling ourselves on dates so that Pages can remain in business for a couple more months. None of us at Pages have taken the easy way out. None of us settled for safe”

  Maggie smiled at her friend’s passion. “You’re right. Though imagine, how lovely it would be if one of our families had that kind of wealth. Pages wouldn’t ever have a problem.”

  Lia shook her head. “No. I don’t w
ant to take anything for free. I want to earn it.”

  “Right. Of course you do,” Maggie said, arching an eyebrow at her friend. “Anyway, I just emailed you Travis’ number.”

  Lia groaned. “Wonderful. Thanks.” She pulled up the email and punched the numbers into her cell, trying her best to ignore her quickening heartbeat. Maggie watched her with an amused expression and Lia scowled.

  Travis’ phone went straight to voicemail. Lia scoffed. “Huh. I guess it’s too early for billionaires.” She shook her head not bothering to hide her irritation. “I’ll try again later.” With that, she turned back to her computer and opened the file containing next month’s program.

  For a while, the office was quiet, save for the incessant click-clacking of Lia’s and Maggie’s keyboards. Around ten a.m., the actors started arriving for rehearsal, and the soundtrack of their new play, Goggles seeped into the office under the crack of the door, occasionally interrupted by laughter or arguing. A small smile spread on Lia’s face. The crew of Pages’ was a passionate lot.

  Maggie inhaled sharply. “Oh no.”

  “What?” Lia asked without turning around.

  “Remember when I said that whatever we get in the fundraiser will be enough?”

  “Yeah,” Lia replied, still typing.

  “Turns out, I was wrong.” Maggie buried her face in her hands. “This is just perfect. How can he do this to us?”

  That got Lia’s attention. She swiveled around in her chair. “What are you talking about? We did great. Better than we hoped.”

  Maggie was still hunched over her keyboard, face buried in her elbow. She groaned. “Damn it!”

  Lia got up and closed the distance between them. “Mags, you’re scaring me! What’s wrong?”

  Maggie raised her head and pointed to something on her screen. Lia leaned closer. It was a large spreadsheet, featuring multiple columns and huge numbers. Lia’s head swam just from looking at it. “Maggie, you know you’ll have to spell it out for me. I haven’t the faintest idea about these types of things.”