"One night? How much do you expect to get for that? Even Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman only got $300."
Flavia was ready for this one. "I'd say prices have gone up since that movie came out. A model in Brazil auctioned her virginity. For one night, some guy paid $800,000."
Violet whistled. "That sort of money could set you up for life. You could buy a house and still not need to work for a decade. But she's a famous model, I guess, not a travel agent from York."
"They don't know that. All the info they have is that picture you took of me at Cottesloe Beach last summer. No name, no address, no face, no phone number…even a new email address that I only created today. No one will know who I am." Flavia straightened smugly. "I've thought of everything."
"For that price, what if he wants kinky stuff? Or what if he's some full-blown, sadistic psycho who wants to chain you up in his basement?" Violet ventured.
"He'd need to provide a full police clearance. A national one. One that says he's never been charged or convicted for any offense anywhere in Australia. And I'm not going anywhere near his house, basement or no basement. Five-star hotel, remember? In Western Australia. We'd both sign confidentiality agreements and agree to have no contact after that night. Simple."
Violet bit her lip so hard it bled. "Please don't do it. This is crazy. You're crazy. It's five weeks before your wedding and you're getting cold feet. That's normal. You and James will work this out and –"
"We won't," Flavia interrupted, slamming her hands down on the desk. "But if by some miracle it was his identical twin, lost at birth, who was banging that girl on a table, and he can prove it, then I'll call off the auction. A click of a button and it'll disappear." As if to demonstrate, she clicked her mouse cursor on the LIST ITEM button. The screen blanked, refreshed and the countdown started. In ten days, she'd have a buyer for her body.
"NO!" Violet reached for the mouse, but Flavia closed the browser before her hand could make contact. Violet's eyes shimmered with tears. "What have you done?"
Flavia lifted her chin. "I've taken control of the situation. The ball's in James' court now. When he confesses to his cock-up and explains to me what he was doing, I'll show him the auction. He'll see what a mess he's made, and then I'll tell him he'll have to explain to all our friends and relatives why the wedding's cancelled. I'll call off the auction, he can call off the wedding, the world will know him for the wanker he is, and we can all get on with our lives."
Violet burst out laughing. "You mean it's all a bluff? You don't intend to go through with the auction?"
Flavia cracked a smile for what felt like the first time in a week. "Shit, no. What if the guy who won was some wrinkly old man who couldn't get it up? I'd die of laughter. James has ten days to get his arse to my house so I can confront him in person."
Violet wiped away tears of what Flavia hoped was mirth. "I sure hope you know what you're doing. You keep an eye on that auction and don't let it finish, or you'll have one angry winning bidder on your hands."
Flavia nodded fervently. "Of course. I can't believe you thought I'd actually do it, Vi. I'd never sell myself. Not for any price."
Six
"Four!"
Xan tried to ignore Jay's shouting as she checked her morning emails. Ooh, good. She had four quotes for the new advertising campaign and they were all well under her budget estimate. Better yet, three of them were available for filming during the week the resort was closed, so there wouldn't be any issues with guest privacy violations, because there wouldn't be any guests to violate. Or video. Now to decide which company to work with.
"Four!" Something thwacked into a palm tree outside her window, showering the pandanus below with orange, golf-ball-sized globes and a flailing rat.
Rats. Horrible things. Xan made a note to email Maintenance to arrange for more rat baits. The vermin bred faster than they could kill them. Bloody randy rats. Worse than rabbits.
"Four…fuck!" Something clattered on the roof. Xan caught a glimpse of something that caught the sunlight in a silvery shimmer before it fell past her window and vanished into the undergrowth.
"Bloody rock stars. Worse than rats," she grumbled as she stalked outside to investigate.
The paths around the building were fortunately free of rock stars – perhaps Jay had finished causing trouble and he'd slunk off to his house to drink himself into yet another stupor. She doubted it, though. He wasn't usually that thoughtful.
"Four!" he shouted behind her.
Xan spun, but saw nothing until she shaded her eyes and saw the idiot on the hotel roof. "Four what?" she demanded.
"Dunno," he shouted back. "Stupid golfing jargon. I guess they figure it's more polite than, 'Fucking watch out 'cause there's a speeding golf ball flying at you!'"
Xan glimpsed a flash of silver. A swish and a thwack sent a white missile off the roof and into the satellite dish.
Jay let out a whoop and did a crazy war dance on the roof. "Hole in one!"
"You can't play golf on the hotel roof!" Xan hissed. "You shouldn't even be up there. What if you break a window?"
Jay shrugged. "Then I'll have to pay for repairs. They're my windows." He lined up another shot and swung his golf club.
The ball arced off the roof and plopped into the water beside the jetty.
Jay swore.
Another ball sailed across the jungle. It hit the satellite dish with a sharp crack, taking a bite out of it.
"Damn it, Jay, stop doing that! No playing golf at the resort! If you want to play golf, fly out to the golf course on the mainland!"
Like he listened. Jay leaned over, grabbed a handful of balls and lined them up along the roof. "I like playing with my balls right here. Whatcha going to do about it, Zzzan?" he drawled, lifting his club.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thunk.
"Fuck." Jay stomped across the roof to retrieve his lost club, but after peering over the edge for a moment, decided he didn't need it and pulled another out of his golf bag.
"Mr Felix! Mr Felix!" Cam and Seb from IT tumbled out of the foyer door in the world's nerdiest circus act.
Jay lowered his club. "What?"
"If you break the satellite dish, it'll be weeks before we can get it repaired."
Jay shrugged. "So make the call to the repair guy. I'll make my own entertainment." He lined up another shot.
"There'll be no adult movies and no internet!"
The golf club clunked to the roof. "What do you mean?" Jay demanded.
"If you break that, there'll be no TV channels at the hotel and no internet access at all. Not for weeks." Seb dropped to his knees. "Please, Mr Felix. Don't do it!"
Cam glanced at Xan before adding his plea: "All the hotel guests will complain if they can't get their channels. We'll be buried in complaints calls. We won't get any work done because all we'll be doing is answering the phone."
Xan snorted. These two might be good with computers, but she didn't believe either of them cared about complaints calls. No, it was the downed channels and lack of internet that had them both desperate to stop him.
"Can't miss the Simpsons," Jay said, stowing his golf club back in the bag. He jerked his chin at the satellite dish. "I hit it a couple of times already. Is it still okay?"
A battered golf bag rolled off the roof and into shrubbery. Jay wrapped his legs around a palm tree that topped the roof. To Xan's horrified fascination, he slid down the trunk, landing with a thump on the sand. Dusting off his hands, he said, "We should go check."
The two geeks followed Jay at what Xan figured was a respectful distance to the fenced communications compound. Not that a security gate would stop any of them – one swipe of Jay's wrist and the lock unlatched with an audible click. Xan reached the compound just in time to hear Jay ask, "So, did I break it?"
"I dunno," Cam said. "Only way I can tell is by checking the connections on a TV or a computer. If I can't get them to work, then it's time to get the repair guy in bec
ause only he knows how to fix this. We'll have to call him."
Jay shrugged. "Let's go watch some TV, then."
All three of them trooped back into the building while Xan tagged along, figuring that the manager needed to know whether communications were down because of the idiot owner or not.
Seb grabbed the remote and turned on the tiny LED TV in the corner of the IT office. Nobody breathed while the loading screen appeared, then the list of available channels. Glancing at Xan, Seb deliberately skipped over the adult movie channels to pick one that showed news instead.
Good call, Xan reflected. If she had to watch some silicone-enhanced, spray-tanned porn star getting more action than she was, she'd go back outside and smash the satellite dish herself.
"…And just when we thought we'd seen the end of that failed brothel registration bill, an independent senator has vowed to bring in his own bill, outlawing prostitution in Western Australia. This extraordinary pronouncement comes after an Australian girl, calling herself Miss Chastity, chose to auction her virginity online. There's been a massive social media outcry. Some calling her a whore, others proclaiming their support for a girl who wants to get ahead. The price of purity? The auction has only been open for less than a day and the bidding's almost up to half a million dollars. Senator Sinclair says that there should be laws to prevent the auction from going ahead, or other girls may get the same idea. We cross live now to Senator – "
"God, turn it off," Xan blurted out. She felt sorry for Aussies who'd voted in the recent elections. The politicians they knew had been such a pack of jokers that they'd voted for anyone else to get the idiots out of office. The result had been a bunch of crazies that fought like cats in parliament. Senator Sinclair was one of the more conservative ones, but that didn't mean she wanted to listen to him.
Mercifully, the screen went black.
"Looks like the uplink's still all right," Cam announced happily.
Xan crossed the room to take a look at the man's monitor. Why wasn't she surprised? The screen showed the search results for…AUSTRALIAN VIRGINITY AUCTION. Plenty of text and a plethora of pictures, all showing the same bikini-clad body, minus the girl's head. Men were all alike – show a bit of skin, suggest sex, and you had their undivided attention.
"Right. If everything's all right then, I'll head back to my office," Xan said, striding out.
As her heels ticked across the tiles, Xan's thoughts strayed to the girl auctioning herself. She wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for the girl or applaud her. On the one hand, she was selling her body…but on the other, she was selling her body for her own benefit. One night as a prostitute and she'd have enough money to buy a house. Or not work for ten years.
One thing was certain: Xan wasn't the only one missing out on action. Miss Chastity evidently had, too. Idly, Xan wondered if there were any books in the hotel library about virginity auctions. Given the number of romance and erotica books in there, there had to be at least one. Hadn't Annette been talking about one at breakfast a few weeks back? She hoped it ended well, unlike Jay's last not-really-a-relationship.
Xan decided to detour through the library on her way back to her office. She needed something new to read.
Seven
"So what do you think? Plum or pink?" Flavia held up the lipsticks.
Violet was so fixated on her phone, she didn't respond.
Huffing in annoyance, Flavia snatched the phone. "What are you reading? The latest pictures of someone's lunch can't be that important."
Violet bit her lip. "Have you been checking the auction? Do you know how much money people are willing to pay for one night with you?"
"Shh!" Flavia glanced around, but no one looked like they were listening. "You're the only person I've told. No one but us and James ever needs to know about this."
Violet pinned her with a sceptical stare. "Does James know yet?"
Flavia squirmed. "No. Last weekend he had to work both days and this weekend he says he's too busy to drive up, too."
"What about you and your car? Have you forgotten how to drive?"
Flavia dropped her gaze to her thong-clad feet. "No. It's just that I don't want to tell him in front of his housemates or the guys he works with. I get enough whistles and catcalls as it is. I swear Doug only talks to my boobs or my bum – he wouldn't recognise my face, because he's never looked at it. If he knew I'd put my body up for auction to the highest bidder…God, no."
"He couldn't afford you. Nobody could. Have you seen the bidding?" Violet persisted.
Flavia shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Not like I'll go through with it anyway. You couldn't pay me enough to – "
"A million dollars? Would you do it for a million dollars?"
Flavia snorted. "Nobody would pay that much for me."
"Not yet, but near enough. Look if you don't believe me." Violet grabbed her phone and swiped the screen into life. "There. At last bid, they're offering you one pay check short of a million and the auction still has three days left to go. Honey, you have to go see him. Call this whole thing off before it's too late."
Flavia felt sick. She'd have to be crazy to turn down that kind of money. "What if I don't?"
"Don't see him, or don't call it off?" Violet held up her hands. "Wait, don't answer that. If you have to ask, you're not thinking straight. Get in the car. I'm driving you to Midland. We'll go to the garage where James works. You'll take him aside and talk to him. If I have to chain you both to the petrol pumps until you talk to each other, we're going to get this mess sorted today."
For a moment, Flavia tensed for a fight, but the tiny voice in her head that she'd been ignoring for a week piped up that Violet had a point. The sooner James called off the wedding, the better. She relaxed. "You're right."
"Of course I am."
For a forty minute drive, it felt far too short. All too soon, Violet pulled up outside the garage.
Flavia took several deep breaths before she exited the car. Striding across the concrete, she held her head high. She wasn't in the wrong here. He'd betrayed her and he'd bloody well pay for it.
At the reception desk, she asked for James. The spotty sixteen-year-old at the desk nodded and skittered out to the workshop in search of him.
Flavia eyed the chairs in the waiting room with longing. She wanted nothing more than to sink into one of them and out of sight, so she could hide from the coming confrontation.
"My hot little Vee! What a surprise!"
Flavia winced at the line from the sordid video. She was no one's hot little Vee, not any more. Especially not his.
"I'd kiss you, baby, but I'm covered in oil. Two guys called in sick today, so I'm stuck doing routine services and oil changes. Why the surprise visit?" James' jaunty grin was the only bit of him that wasn't covered in grease. Even his hair was slick with the stuff.
Flavia felt ill. "Can I talk to you a minute? In private?"
Spotty Boy's face fell.
Flavia led the way outside. James' shuffling footsteps followed her out to the edge of the forecourt, where the sound of passing traffic should muffle their conversation from the garage full of eavesdroppers.
"What is it, baby? You getting nervous about the wedding and what comes after?"
The horrible picture of James pounding that prostitute flashed into the forefront of her mind. Flavia nearly gagged. "Yes. No. I mean, it's off. The wedding's off, James. I can't marry you."
The dickhead laughed. "You are scared, aren't you, baby? Don't worry – we'll make the first time real quick. Sex is nothing to be scared of. It's fucking awesome. You'll see."
"How would you know?" she demanded.
He didn't even blink. "Everyone knows sex is fun. It'll be just like jacking off, only better."
Flavia wanted to wipe the grin off his face with a sander. Scraping away skin and muscle and…
"Like it was at Davo's buck's night last week?" she bit out.
His eyes widened slightly. "Davo? Nah, that was a pub crawl.
I don't remember much of it. I was too sick, remember?"
Sick was right, but not in the way he meant it. "Someone videoed it, James. There's a video on the internet of you with…another girl." She couldn't bring herself to say she knew the girl was a hooker.
"Not me, baby. You know you're the only one I love." The lie tripped off his tongue, followed up by a boyish grin that made him look like a bloody angel. Devil, more like.
"Watch the video, James. Ask Davo about it. He knows." Flavia drew in a deep breath. "It's over, James. The wedding's off. You've ruined everything. And you know what? You can call all the guests and tell them. Tell them why we won't be getting married."
"Baby, be reasonable. I don't even remember what happened that night," James began. "You're just overreacting. Must be that time of the month or cold feet or you just getting scared of losing your v-card. When you calm down, we'll talk about this again."
Flavia opened her mouth to shout at him.
James held up his hands. "Ah-ah-ah, no more getting hysterical. Call me when you calm down and want to apologise for even considering cancelling the wedding." He winked. "You know how to make it all right, baby. But not right now – I have a couple more cars to service before you can service me with that sexy mouth of yours. Go shopping with your friend over there and come back when you're ready to be reasonable."
Before Flavia could stop spluttering in fury, James broke into a jog, gave her a jaunty wave, and disappeared into the garage.
Flavia stormed back to Violet's car and slammed the door behind her.
"How'd it go?" Violet chirped.
"He wants me to go shopping with you, rethink things, then come back and apologise, before giving him a blowjob."
"He…WHAT?"
Flavia chewed her lip. "Let's go shopping and buy some knives. Then we'll come back and when he whips his dick out…"
Violet snorted. "No, that'll land you in prison, too. You can't cut his dick off. Though if you're lucky, he'll catch something horrible from that prostitute and it'll fall off all by itself." She wet her lips. "The million dollar auction man isn't looking so bad at the moment, is he?"
The Rock Star's Virginity (Romance Island Resort #3) Page 3