Be Mine

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Be Mine Page 14

by Justine Wittich


  “Hah! I’ll believe that when I see proof,” Sabina commented as she put the letter aside and reached for the flyer.

  Under the letterhead of a fund-raising group for Children’s Hospital was an announcement of the auction of “Dream Dates” with fifteen eligible area bachelors. Chad’s name was ninth on the list, which identified him as a financial/mining executive. “All proceeds tax deductible. Personal Checks, Mastercard and Visa accepted,” was centered at the bottom of the fancifully decorated sheet.

  The thick cream card served as both an invitation and a ticket to the auction. The black engraving blurred before Sabina’s eyes. Her hands shook. Attempting to refocus her vision, she took a deep breath and exhaled to the count of ten in an effort to relax.

  Flicking lights on as she went, Sabina ran to the kitchen to check her calendar. This coming Friday. She kicked off her shoes in front of the sink, recalling ever moment they’d spent together. She pictured his clear, golden brown eyes gazing at her tenderly, the endearing creases that dented his cheeks when he grinned.

  As if in a trance, she returned to her living room, vividly remembering their argument. He had to have spoken with the twins soon after his return. The bullheaded fool must have discovered she was right within days of that encounter. Why had he taken so long to admit it? Why couldn’t he just come to her and say, “I was wrong and you were right?”

  Sabina realized Chad must know about the invitation in her hand. He’d teased her about being out of touch with what went on in Columbus. Did he want her to come see him being offered on the block like a prize chicken at the county fair and hope she’d bid for him? He was so infernally proud. It must have galled him to discover she knew the twins’ real desires. And she couldn’t fault his loyalty to others in his industry, even though he had to be aware not everyone shared his ethics. Did he know how to apologize?

  Would he care enough to try?

  “Why should I go to these lengths to talk to him? That idiot knows where I live.” She threw the invitation on her desk, then picked it up and fingered the card thoughtfully.

  Was she brave enough to attend?

  Over the next two days the question nagged at her. She changed her mind dozens of times, until she reached such a state of confusion that Friday morning she poured juice into the instant coffee she’d spooned into her cup.

  “I wonder how much a weekend with him will cost?” she murmured, trying to ignore the little voice that answered, It would be worth everything you own. “Whatever he has planned, he better be ready to talk . . . even if I have to handcuff him to his steering wheel.”

  * * * *

  The hotel lobby was crowded with expensively dressed women heading toward the ballroom. Wry remarks were punctuated by laughter as small groups of women crowded through the door and headed immediately for the cash bar.

  Positive even a sniff of the cork from a wine bottle would complete her disintegration, Sabina bypassed a drink, opting for a tall glass of seltzer water. She needed her wits if she wanted to see this thing through.

  She noticed she was one of the few women in attendance without a crowd of friends. Obviously some of the ticket holders looked on the evening as prime entertainment. How on earth had Chad gotten himself into this thing? From the remarks she heard, a few of the women, at least those around her, were as outspoken as any of the rough miners she’d met, which was saying a lot.

  “Lead me to the bidding. I can’t wait to take a sample home with me,” a luscious redhead announced to her friends as they crowded past Sabina.

  Choosing a table in the back of the room seemed safest. The bachelors were apparently going to walk out a short runway attached to the small stage at the opposite end. She couldn’t take a chance on Chad spotting her, in case she chickened out.

  The tables were close to each other, and when the bidding started she was grateful for the darkness at the edges of the room. Never again would she accuse men of being aggressive. Whistles and cheers came frequently from a table toward the front.

  The flamboyant redhead triumphantly claimed the engineer who was eighth on the program. Sabina’s temperature rose. Her cheeks felt flushed. The dates offered ranged from a visit to Atlantic casinos to a flight to Hilton Head for golf and swimming. What would Chad offer . . . a trip down the leaf slide?

  “And now we come to item number nine on your program, mining executive and bank president Chad Peters. Chad hopes there is someone out there who will share his love of music enough to bid a healthy amount for charity. In return, he and his purchaser will fly to Chicago to wine and dine in high style before attending a performance of The Marriage of Figaro by the Chicago Lyric Opera Company.” The master of ceremonies continued to tout Chad’s accomplishments, but his words were lost on Sabina.

  Chad was offering her dream trip! She’d been set up. The slimy low-life was dangling her own bait in front of her!

  When the red mist in front of her eyes cleared, Sabina started to laugh. Was this the only way he could bring himself to apologize? If he would go this far in public, he really did care. Didn’t he? But still, that was her special treat!

  “You’ll pay for this,” she murmured, determined to see him squirm. “I’m your only way out.” The man owed her another apology.

  The flowery introduction came to an end, and Chad stepped through the curtains, drawing an appreciative murmur and a chorus of wolf whistles from the crowd, which had become increasingly uninhibited. At the sight of him, heat spread through Sabina as if her blood had warmed. She definitely hadn’t imagined his effect on her. Even across the ballroom, all her senses were in place and functioning overtime.

  So far, the men had worn conventional tuxedos or business suits. Chad had taken formal dress a step further. His black tuxedo jacket lay across his shoulders as only a custom-tailored coat could. The tucked shirt was so white it looked like an ad for laundry detergent, the contrast with the tartan bow tie and cummerbund accentuating its pristine state.

  Below the formal gear he wore the tightest, most faded jeans Sabina had ever seen. They fit like a second skin, prompting moaning sounds from someone to her left. Heavy steel-toed boots were laced to mid-calf, accentuating his rugged masculinity, and a yellow hard hat was tilted low on his forehead at an arrogant angle, nearly covering his eyes. A come-hither grin creased his lips.

  The auctioneer cut smoothly into the hubbub. “Do I hear a bid?”

  Sabina held her breath as a heavyset blond started the bidding at $500, but the amount climbed fast and furiously, in fifty and one hundred dollar increments, while Sabina watched Chad’s expression. The devilish grin never faltered, but she saw the slight movement of his head each time a new voice entered the auction. He seemed to be listening intently to each bidder, as if searching for a familiar voice. She sat silent, sipping her seltzer. He could squirm a little longer.

  The blond persisted, commenting to her friends, “I’m going to spend everything I’ve saved if I have to.”

  Sabina wondered if her own savings would be enough.

  * * * *

  Chad’s nerves tightened. Sabina was here, wasn’t she? Erica had assured him there was no way she could resist. But what did an eighteen-year-old girl know? If she was out there, why wasn’t she bidding? Dear heaven. This looked like the beginning of a disaster. If that woman bought him, he wasn’t sure he would survive the weekend. Only will power kept him from fleeing the room. Where was Sabina?

  * * * *

  Sabina was enjoying the growing fear on the face of the helpless auction prize on the stage. His male pride deserved just a tad more battering.

  Suddenly she realized the bidding was had slowed. She’d been so immersed in her plans for revenge that she hadn’t been paying attention.

  The blond shouted, “$2,350. And worth every penny.” Everyone else had dropped out.

  Projecting her voice, Sabina called, “$2,999.99.”

  At the sound of her voice, Sabina watched Chad pushed the hard hat up from his eye
brows and attempt a casual survey of the room. The areas around the edge were in shadow, while a haze floated in the harsh light illuminating the small stage. She wondered whether he was kicking himself for being roped into this thing, and how long it would take him to spit out an apology.

  “Any more bids, ladies? Don’t let that last jump hold you back.” The perspiring auctioneer did his best, but Sabina’s bid had quieted the crowd. “Going once. Going twice. Gone! Will the lady in the back of the room come forward and claim her purchase?”

  Sabina took her time. She drained her glass of seltzer water, freshened her lipstick, and made her leisurely way between the tables. Schooling her expression carefully, she looked up to make sure Chad was watching. Satisfied by his intent stare, she moved as if she had all day.

  The odd bid had triggered an excited buzz of speculation. The crowd applauded as Sabina climbed the carpeted treads to the stage. The tiny frown etching Chad’s forehead pleased her.

  The frown deepened, then faded. She was sure he realized he would have to grovel. Back to square one, big goy. Nerves made her throat tight, but she refused to back down. She hadn’t slept or eaten properly for three weeks.

  As if sensing undercurrents, the auctioneer made quick work of asking Sabina her name and bundling them off to the cashier to transact the real purpose of the evening — payment. Sabina held Chad’s arm with an impersonal touch, even though she wanted to clutch him tightly.

  She signed the check with a flourish, dropping the pale blue slip of paper in front of the fashionably gowned cashier as if it were nothing, when in fact that morning she’d emptied her savings account, transferring $3,000 to checking. In response to the woman’s effusive thanks, she said airily, “This is such a good cause.”

  Her insides quivered from two emotions: sheer excitement at his nearness, and fear she would cave in before she heard an apology. She couldn’t think of a thing to say as they walked down the hall.

  At the elevator, Chad leaned close to murmur in her ear, “Ninety-nine cents! This isn’t a discount store, Sabina.”

  His teasing revived her spirit. “Really? I thought it was a beef market. Steak is always priced at a cent below the dollar to make the buyer think he’s getting a bargain.” The hall was deserted; as the elevator light glowed red she stepped back and looked him over. “You’re prime stuff. That big blond was itching to get her hands on you. I heard her say so.”

  The silence during their descent was deafening.

  After the revolving door coughed them onto the street Sabina said coolly, “I drove. If you want to meet me at my place, we can make our arrangements.”

  * * * *

  Nodding acquiescence, Chad set out in the opposite direction, ignoring the curious glances his attire drew from passersby. Walking rapidly with his shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, his thoughts were humbling company. When Sabina had finally called the winning bid, he had nearly fainted with relief. The last three weeks had been a nightmare.

  Chad wasn’t accustomed to being wrong, and even less accustomed to admitting it. Erica’s suggestion of offering Sabina’s dream weekend as bait had seemed like a good idea at the time, but things seemed to have gone awry. Erica was convinced Sabina would look on the invitation as a sign he wanted to apologize. From what he’d seen of her actions since the auction, he wasn’t so sure. At the very least, she meant to make him eat crow.

  Locating his car, Chad climbed in and twisted his key in the ignition, then sat listening to the banked power of the engine. If she wanted to see him to swallow his pride, he would do it. He refused to think defeat.

  * * * *

  By the time Chad arrived, Sabina had kicked off her shoes and started a pot of coffee. Strong coffee. She took several deep breaths before she answered the door. At the sight of him framed in her doorway she felt her heart beat in her throat.

  “I nearly sent out a search party to locate my investment,” she said, determined to be difficult. He’d removed the hard hat, and his hair curled damply over his forehead. Sabina had never seen anything so appealing in her life.

  He responded softly, “Don’t push, Sabina. This is hard enough as it is.”

  Leaving him to close the door, Sabina crossed the room to distance herself. She couldn’t weaken, no matter how much she wanted to. “It shouldn’t be that difficult.”

  “If Erica hadn’t sent me a ticket, I wouldn’t have known you were on the block.” She played with the silk flowers in a crystal vase. “If someone had topped my bid, I would have had to drop out.”

  “You can always borrow from your friendly banker.”

  The flowers slipped from her fingers. Chad picked up the scattered blossoms before she could reach them, and stood before her, running the stems through his fingers. She snatched them from him and turned her back while she stuffed them haphazardly into the vase. Things weren’t going as she’d anticipated. “No, I couldn’t. That was my weekend you offered to anyone with the money to buy it.”

  Turning back, she said angrily, “You almost squandered my dream.”

  “Sabina, I’m sorry . . .”

  She drew a deep breath and looked up at him, her hands on her hips. This was the confrontation she sought. “Why did you have to go to such lengths to see me?”

  Suddenly, groveling wasn’t out of the question. Chad would do anything to remove the hurt in her eyes. “Because I was wrong . . . I didn’t trust you. Because I have some ingrained notions that get me into trouble now and then.” For the first time in his life, his voice cracked with the sincerity of a desperate man. “Because I love you.”

  For some reason, his declaration seemed to confuse her. “So you put me through this . . . this travesty?”

  “All right. I was a jerk, and I had a whole truckload of false pride that wouldn’t allow me to simply come and beg.” His voice faltered. “I couldn’t imagine admitting there were any lapses in my judgment, or that I’d jumped to the conclusion that you only pretended my arguments had convinced you to take a broader view. That you’d shut down McDonald out of spite.”

  He edged closer. “Nevada, I’m willing to spend the rest of my life apologizing for that if you’ll let me. I want you. I’m not sure I can live without you.”

  Sabina turned to fuss with the flowers again, but not before he saw the relief in her eyes.

  “I love you, Sabina. And I think you love me, or we wouldn’t be here.”

  Sabina turned to face him. “You manipulated me. Now that I have you I’m not sure why I should want you.”

  “When I left this afternoon, Aunt Clara told me to use the sense God gave a goose, whatever that means. She and the twins think you’ll protect me from that pack of women I’m supposed to have at my heels twenty-four hours a day.”

  The older woman’s dry, no-nonsense way of speaking played back through Sabina’s mind, bringing tears of laughter to her eyes, and breaking her composure. Shoulders shaking, she lowered her eyes. “You’d still be a chauvinist.”

  “I’m doing my best to reform. What else can I do to make you say yes?”

  Humility was the last thing she’d ever expected to hear in his voice. She couldn’t resist one last caveat. “You’ll have to give up encouraging all those women.”

  “That should be easy. They only exist in the imaginations of people with nothing else to talk about.”

  “Your reputation has to be built on something,” Sabina teased. She knew how much it had cost him to apologize. He wasn’t accustomed to being wrong; he was clearly uncomfortable with the state.

  A fine line of perspiration had broken out on his upper lip. “I don’t know what else I can do. I love you, Sabina.”

  If she didn’t touch him soon she would expire from need. Smiling, Sabina laid her arms around his neck. “Kiss me. Kiss me very hard. After about fifty years you might convince me.”

  * * * *

  Chad’s nearly shouted with relief. Instead, he folded her against him as if afraid she would break. When he finally ki
ssed her, it was a kiss of commitment, rather than passion. Chad realized he had never before kissed a woman with so much emotion.

  Moments later, Sabina drew back. The love in her eyes making them glow like large sapphires. “I love you, Chad. Even though you said I was wrong about McDonald, I knew you wouldn’t approve of what he’d done. I could only hope you’d be as fair as I believed you to be, that you’d find out for yourself.”

  Clutching her as if he were afraid she’d be snatched away, Chad admitted, “I was an idiot to suspect you’d punish one person to get even with the whole industry.” He pulled her closer. “You’ve been exposed to my temper and now to my distrust. Will you believe me when I promise I’ve learned my lesson?”

  She snuggled against him, and rubbed her nose lightly against the pristine linen of his shirt. “You need more practice. With the right teacher, you could learn a lot about equality.”

  “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  Tugging him backward toward the bed, Sabina teased, “Is this an interview or a proposal?”

  “Both. Besides, you have to marry me. I’ve already bought your wedding gift.”

  Shaken by the sudden intensity of his expression, Sabina could manage only a faint echo. “Wedding gift?”

  “I’m sure Erica told you we weren’t selling Calico. She left out something. I bought McDonald’s mess. I want those abandoned sites reclaimed, and I thought you’d enjoy doing the job.” Smiling, he continued, “But you can’t unless you’re my wife. Call it more of a bribe than a gift.”

  Sabina’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you know this state employee doesn’t accept bribes?”

  “You could quit your job. Then we wouldn’t be on opposite sides of the fence,” he cajoled.

  The thought of working to salvage the abandoned sites excited Sabina. Restoring those eroded scars would be a privilege. No other gift could have demonstrated his love and understanding more. “I don’t need a bribe to marry you, Chad.” She didn’t care if he heard the tears in her voice. They were tears of joy. She wondered if his happiness was singing in his veins as it was in hers.

 

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