Souled: Bid on Love: Bachelor #1

by Shandwick, K. L.

  Kevin was one of the heroes the auction was supposed to have benefited. The irony of that fact and what I was doing sat heavily in my chest.

  None of us were surprised when he enlisted to serve but the much-loved man we’d reluctantly sent off to Afghanistan was a bright, smart mouthed, muscle bound stud, and the broken guy who came back was a shell of the same person due to a dreadfully debilitating condition called PTSD.

  Transitioning back to civilian life with a lack of proper professional support and a mental health issue, Kevin began his fatal downward spiral ending in his death the year before.

  I watched Jacoby, who was deep in conversation, with a tinge of sadness because I’d have given anything to have had his brother Kevin back. Jacoby and I were what you’d call ‘loose’ friends before but grew much closer when he turned to me for support shortly after Kevin passed.

  Glancing around the group he was with, I noticed Colton somebody or other. I couldn’t remember his last name; I only knew him as a friend of Jacoby’s.

  As he was also wearing a tux, I figured he must be one of the bachelors up for grabs as well. My cell began to vibrate. I dug into my pocket, pulled it out and noticed it was my manager on the line. Swiping the screen, I answered.

  “Sup?” I listened and was told I had to shoot a new video for a release on the weekend because my schedule had gone to shit when my mom had her fall. I tried to argue my way around it, but apparently, we’d run out of time. I thought on my feet and arranged to film not in the studio but at my cabin in Aspen, Colorado, because it would kill two birds with one stone. It had been my plan to spend the weekend there skiing and partying from Saturday until Sunday evening then fly back to Mom’s.

  Eventually I wore him down citing the charity gig and told him this was the only way he’d get me to comply. After what felt like an age, he cut the call having agreed to rearrange the original video shoot from LA to Colorado for either the Saturday or the Sunday.

  “Awesome to see you, bro,” Jacoby said, breaking away from the small group of our friends and he came into my arms for a tight hug. “Damn, are you an apparition? I haven’t seen you since...”

  His sentence ending hung in the air. Since Kevin died. “Well, anyway,” I replied with an awkward snicker and slapped his back. “Man, you scrub up well. I may have to bid on you myself,” I joked. Jacoby chuckled and looked at his feet. As he stuffed his hands in his pockets, it was clear he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his outfit.

  “You remember Colton?” Glancing to Colton, I gave him a warm smile, remembering the quiet, shy guy who was Jacoby’s best friend from when we all hung out together. I wracked my brain again for his surname, but it wouldn’t come.

  “Neither of you have changed much since the last time I saw you… well… I grant that you’ve filled out a bit, and you got rich, Colton, but apart from that we’re all about the same.” I said babbling because I felt a little out of the loop since Kevin’s death.

  Kevin was the best at filling me in on all the gossip. My mom knew a few things and had told me since I’d been home, but there was still a lot of history I’d missed with these guys.

  “Ah good, you’re all together. Come on. Lewis, the photographer has set up his screen and camera. Let’s get these shots before we open the doors and let everyone in here. There is only so much wine tasting they can take before the patrons are too drunk to bid.

  Nads rounded us up like a herd of prime beef and steered us toward a small well-lit area in the corner of the room, where Lewis and his equipment waited to make us look good in the local rag come that Friday morning.

  Ten minutes later each of us had profile pictures and four group shots in different poses. Then I’d had enough and needed something to drink. Nads clapped her hand and two butlers appeared with trays of both red and white wine, and hors d’oeuvres.

  “Grab a drink and something to eat, then I want you boys backstage. We’ll be opening the doors to this room in five.”

  Years of attending events and gala dinners had taught me to spot my favorite Chianti wine on sight, so I grabbed a glass and held up my other hand to refuse the food.

  A few minutes later it was Charlotte who barked at our heels, shooing us into the back of the small makeshift stage that had been erected to maintain an air of mystery. Handing each of us a mask to wear I couldn’t resist teasing.

  “You’re very good in the dominatrix role Charlotte. Have you ever thought of switching careers?” I would have used that sentence a thousand times more to see the coy, bashful look that passed over her face. She was totally into me and while I struggled not to go all out with my flirtations, I couldn’t help but pass the odd comment every time I had the chance.

  “I think it’s all part of my role as a charity fundraiser, McKenna, to order people into submission. I get results and my boss is always impressed when I get my own way.” Her response made me chuckle because it was absolutely on point. Domination was an art, and I thought Charlotte was appealing enough to command or persuade anyone to do what she wanted.

  * * *

  A sudden swell of voices grew from in front of the stage. A mumble of incoherent conversations, women’s laughter, and the occasional belly laugh of men, let us know the show was about to begin.

  Excitement was in the air, and the strange buzz of anticipation I usually got before I went on the stage was present within me, even though I was used to playing to tens of thousands without blinking. But this was different. In my day job they were buying into my music.

  Here in my home town I was being offered for them to bid on me… McKenna Low, the man. Not the rock star they’d seen on TV… at least I hoped that was what they were doing.

  Colored lights filtered through the crack in the curtains, and the click of stiletto heels hurriedly crossing the stage, rang in my ears. Taking a deep breath, I smiled at Jacoby and he grinned back.

  “Dude, you’re gonna go for $8 max in that suit,” he joked in a hushed whisper.

  “And you’re gonna get snapped up by a dude in yours, no matter what the price,” I quipped back. A loud snorting noise came from Jacoby’s throat and he shook his head, but our banter was interrupted by the sound of feedback from the microphone on the other side of the red velvet curtains separating us from the stage.

  As the auctioneer went into his well-rehearsed pre-auction speech, I glanced down the line and smirked when I had the thought that the last time I’d seen this much black and white was on a wildlife program on cable television.

  I glanced along the line and chuckled. There was a dozen of us. Most of us were six feet plus, suited and booted in similar attire… some of us looking less comfortable than others wearing it, but all looking like a variation of Zorro in a tuxedo.

  Thinking more closely about the choices of men Nads had made, I thought she’d been really clever because there were guys of different ethnicity, age, and heights. Essentially—someone for everyone.

  My thoughts were jolted back to the here and now when Bachelor number one was called to take the stand and I chuckled at the gasp of the crowd when he took to the stage. A low buzz filled the air, and the auctioneer began describing the first guy’s attributes like he was prize cattle at market, but did it in rhyme.

  Next thing I knew, a sense of urgency had gripped the room as the bids price rose rapidly in hundreds until the gavel fell at $1400 dollars. Peeping out of the curtain I saw a plump looking woman in her mid-forties hold up a pink paddle with the number forty-seven on it and grinned when I looked back at the guy’s face who won her. I chuckled when he rubbed the back of his neck and I couldn’t help but smile as his gesture screamed his thought, “What do I do with her?”

  Next up was Landon Smyth. Landon had been my main rival at school for the girls in our year and the guy was a dick. Always flashing his cash, driving his dad’s fancy rig and trying to make himself indispensable toward any damsel in distress. He even hit on my high school sweetheart, Mary Lou Bennett, but she was smart and told him
exactly where to go.

  I watched with interest as Landon’s auction got underway and chuckled when the bid was infinitely slower than the previous guy's. The auctioneer worked miracles after starting his lot at $500 and sinking to $300 before he got a bite. From that point on he certainly earned his fee for the night. He had hurriedly dropped the gavel at 600 bucks.

  Chuckles broke out among the others who also knew Landon was a dick and a couple of the less confident guys swallowed roughly about their potential net worth at the end of their sales.

  There were two guys I didn’t really know who took the stage after Landon; one who was a bit older and one a few years younger. Jacoby was up after him and when I glanced over at him he was deep in conversation with his buddy, Colton, who looked like he would rather be having an extraction in the dentist chair than taking part in the bid.

  It appeared as if Jacoby was giving him a hushed pep talk as he patted Colton’s broad back, but his support for his friend was cut short when Jacoby’s name was suddenly called.

  Always the showman, Jacoby stepped out with his hands above his head to a roar from the crowd. The mask did nothing to hide who he was, and I immediately recognized his sister, his remaining brother, and his parents in the crowd. A few of his neighbors had also turned out in support. He always was a popular guy.

  My heart clenched when the fleeting thought passed through my mind that Kevin wasn’t around to see it. Nads stepped forward on stage and straightened his bow tie which raised a few whistles from the women at the back, then jumped down to the side of the stage as once again the guy with the gavel spouted out cash amounts at the fastest speed I’d heard in my life. Jacoby was bought for a respectable $2k.

  From where I stood I could see almost everything except to the far right of the makeshift stage, but it looked like even though there was a hefty crowd watching, there were only a couple of dozen women bidding on the lots.

  Finally, my lot was called, and I stepped out of the darkness and into the single spotlight bathing the stage to an extra cheer from the audience, so I rewarded them with a theatrical bow. Once I was out front, I could make out better exactly who was bidding.

  Suddenly my heart raced, and not for a good reason. Shifting nervously on my feet, my concerned gaze fell on Lolita Gomez. Fuck. Of all the women in town she was the last one I wanted to spend time with.

  Lolita was a one night stand I’d had back when I was seventeen and the experience was one I regretted ever since. She had been sweet on me all through high school and eventually, one night I caved because Lolita was known for putting out and she had a tight, smoking hot, Latino body. What can I say? I was an adolescent boy with a dick that grew at the sight of anything loosely connected with sex during that time.

  For the whole of the rest of that year and the one that followed, Lolita had stalked me, dropping most of her school supplies in front of me and bending down with straight legs and short skirts to pick them back up. I swear I had a view of every set of panties that girl owned from fall to summer semesters.

  After we graduated, she turned up at every gig I played at, no matter whether it was in state or not. Lolita had been crazily obsessed with me and I remained in her sights for the best part of two years. Her infatuation with me had made my life a living nightmare, and it took me a long time to recover from it.

  Distracted by movement in my peripheral vision, my beady eye caught sight of Charlotte and my heart skipped a beat in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Lolita temporarily forgotten, I became completely engrossed in Charlotte’s shapely slender legs as they crossed in a sideward move when she integrated herself with the crowd. She’d changed her clothes and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  My gaze wandered over her body from head to toe and I noted and loved the red, figure-hugging, plunge neckline dress and the complementing sexy, sky-high, black stiletto shoes she wore. I was aware my eyes had lingered in five places: her cherry red lips, her fabulously perfect cream cleavage, the way her waist dipped and swelled at the hips, the beautiful shiny skin on her legs, and her cherry colored nail polish on her petite toes to match her lipstick. Fuck.

  She looked sensational; like a movie star, with her long glossy hair, and the most interesting thing of all was the pink bidding panel she held in her hand.

  I barely hid the pleasure I felt from everyone because the kid I knew well over a decade before was nothing like the perfect looking woman she had become. Gone were the braces and lanky shorts clad legs and in their place was a perfect smile and long toned pins to die for.

  Someone leaned in to talk to her; a guy I had never seen before, and whatever he’d said made her embarrassed because she swept her long hair in front of her face with her hand. Maybe some things about her had stayed the same. No matter what age she had been I’d always thought it innocently cute that she did that.

  When the room fell quiet, I swiftly realized someone had spoken, and I’d been so enthralled with Charlotte I had missed it. I turned to look at the auctioneer and Nads glared in my direction unimpressed with my unfocused attention.

  Nadine was commanding in her business-like stare, boring holes at me with her eyes as she folded her arms. When her lips pinched in a line, I knew she was mad with me because her impatience radiated off of her. When she narrowed her eyes, it made me grin, and I turned to the guy running the show and shrugged.

  “Excuse me, did I miss something? I got a little distracted when I recognized some of my old neighbors from town. I haven’t seen most of you in quite a while,” I said, giving another clue as to who I was.

  Turning back to face the direction where Charlotte stood, I pretended my comment was aimed at those behind her, when in fact they had all paled in comparison to such an extent I would have had a hard time recalling anyone else who was there.

  Another raucous cheer erupted and Nads took the gavel from the auctioneer and banged it aggressively against the wooden palette. A chuckle escaped my mouth, and I quickly corrected myself and tried desperately to straighten the wide playful smile from my face.

  Nads wandered over and grabbed me by the hand. “Alright, let’s see if you’re worth much to the people that really matter in our little town.” Pulling me toward a small chalked out X spot with the same single spotlight above, she left and walked back, standing behind the podium again.

  The auctioneer took his cue and rhymed off the wording on the card Nads had obviously written and the audience chuckled. She knew me all too well. The clues were funny. Smart mouthed, fast talking, charismatic, and hot, she called me. I raised my eyebrow and saluted her in my mask for highlighting my unique selling points then watched with interest as the bidding got underway.

  I thanked God that the numbers began to rise immediately, and the auctioneer never had to devalue me to get started like he had with Landon and within seconds it became apparent there were three chicks confident enough to bid for my lot.

  Usually what I did attracted the gold digging groupie types due to the reputation of rock stars. Most nice women either thought we were all cheating manwhores, or they were too star struck to talk to me.

  Not here though; these women knew me from before I was famous. Mary Ann, a former classmate who I had dated once; Patricia Maxwell who was two years ahead of me at school; and Lolita Gomez, the resident stalker from my past.

  As the bidding went on, it was clear Lolita had no intention of letting the others win, raising her paddle with a quick flick of the wrist, her eyes anxiously darting back and forth between the other two bidders, and for the first time in my life I was rooting for the two homely looking girls above someone with a sensational body who I already knew gave the most amazing head.

  My heart galloped inside my chest as I turned my head and gave an alarmed pleading look toward Nads in a silent communication because she knew from the past the trouble I’d had with Lolita, and it further dismayed me when Mary Ann dropped out of the bidding.

  I willed Patricia to keep raising that paddle bec
ause the alternative was something I didn’t want to deal with. It wasn’t only me she stalked as my mother had previously resorted to filing for a restraining order because Lolita had taken to following her around whenever my mom had left the house.

  When the auctioneer said $1700, and the bid lay with Lolita, I held my breath and bargained with God that I’d do whatever he wanted so long as she didn’t win. When the salesman called the number for the second time I quickly realized that only talking to the big fella when I wanted something wasn’t the way to go and figured he probably wouldn’t have recognized who I was.

  Calling $1700 for the third time, he raised his hand and was about to strike the round wooden palette with the gavel when another voice broke into the silence. “$2000.” A collective sharp intake of breath silenced the room and standing to the side was Charlotte with her number thirteen paddle raised high.

  The next thing I knew, I turned in the auctioneer’s direction and saw Nads nudge him. Suddenly he sped up and called it once, twice, and three times. His wooden hammer struck the palette before Lolita had time to figure out what was happening.

  My hands automatically came together in prayer as I stood center stage and I silently thanked either the divine intervention, or Nadine and Charlotte’s perceptive strike in my favor, as a loud protest from my stalker was quickly swallowed up in the cheers for my winning bidder.

  I tore off my mask to a cacophony of cheers and turned to bow my thanks toward Charlotte who had saved my skin. I felt an immediate sense of disappointment when I saw she was no longer in the audience. Eyeing Lolita as she moved toward the stage, I quickly retreated behind the curtain again and out of her sight.

  Glad my turn had passed, I returned to the back of the stage where the other guys who’d also been ‘bought’ were sat together in their posh evening wear like members of some elite gentlemen’s club.