Auctioned to Him 7: The Contract

by Charlotte Byrd

  I jump into the shower and wash my hair. Ever since those dry shampoos came out, I’ve become somewhat of an addict. In high school and college, I used to wake up early, take a shower and do my hair and makeup. I actually used to devote at least an hour and a half to this regimen every day! But now that I have my business, I don’t really have time for any of that anymore. No, that’s not true. I still have time. I just don’t have the patience.

  Massaging conditioner into my scalp, I take a deep breath. I really should do this more often. I try to remember the last time I washed my hair. It must’ve been at least 3 days ago. Oh my God! Has it been that long? It’s not really as disgusting as it sounds. Even though my hair gets pretty greasy the day after I wash it, dry shampoo takes care of all that grease. I hate to admit it, but this isn’t even the longest I’ve ever gone without a wash. The record was last month during a particularly stressful wedding when I went for seven days without a wash.

  After getting out of the shower, I tie my hair up in a towel and sit down to apply my makeup. I give myself some time to do this, because I actually find the experience quite soothing and relaxing. It’s as if I’m meditating. When my face is all done, with fake lashes and contouring, I dry my hair and then curl it to give it some more body. I seal it with some hair spray and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, actually, except now is the difficult part. Figuring out what to wear.

  I briefly consider the possibility of pants. I can almost hear my mom turning in her grave and Dolly gasping in shock. But no, I’m not thinking about slacks or something like that. Skinny jeans or leggings. Something to show off my butt in, but still be comfortable. But I have no idea how dressy this engagement party will be, so I need to play it safe. Skinny jeans might not be appropriate, no matter how cute the pumps.

  I move on to dresses. I have three to choose from. One red, one black, one blue. All above the knee and tailored around the waist. The red one is strapless, the blue one has spaghetti straps and the black one has thicker, more traditional straps. I try them all. I only have one decent pair of black heels to wear, but luckily they will go with any of the dresses. The black one makes me feel like I’m either too formal or going to a funeral, and the blue one is a little tight around the bust, so I go with the red one. It has built in cups, which frame my breasts quite nicely, and I’ve heard somewhere – probably Dr. Oz – that both men and women respond well to red worn on dates. Okay, fine by me. I put in a pair of matte, silver hoops and a large cocktail ring on my right hand. It’s from H & M, and Cynthia says that it makes me look flirty. That works for me.

  After I’m pretty much ready, I take a selfie in front of the full-length mirror and send it to Cynthia.

  She sends back a plethora of smiley faces, champagne drinks and firework emojis. I know that the outfit is a hit.

  At 6 o’clock on the dot, there’s a knock on my door. Right on time. It’s an unusual thing for an LA guy to show up on time, there are just way too many excuses about traffic to take advantage of. I’m impressed.

  When I open the door, I see a gorgeous, tall man before me. He’s dressed in an expensive suit, but he doesn’t look a bit uncomfortable in it. The charcoal-gray pants bring out his sparkling green eyes and compliment his dark thick hair. He has a tan of a surfer and brilliant white teeth, which decorate his luscious kissable lips. When he gives me a hug, I feel the hardness of his body, his chiseled abs and pecks.

  He introduces himself as Logan Davenport. I think I say that my name’s Avery, but who the hell knows. Wow. I had no idea that Dolly Monroe knew hotties like these.

  “So this is your place?” he asks as we walk downstairs. I nod. “Dolly said that you own a flower shop.”

  “She told you that? She didn’t tell me much about you.”

  There’s a BMW parked in the far corner of the parking lot. And I confidently walk toward it. But he stops and points to his Prius.

  “You drive a Prius?” I ask.

  “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” he smiles.

  I try to conceal how shocked I am. I thought he was a billionaire or at least a millionaire. I was certain that he would be driving at least a Maserati.

  “No. It’s just that I drive a Prius too,” I say and point to the blue 2015 model in the parking lot.

  We get into his white Prius and rush down Topanga Canyon Blvd toward Malibu.

  “So do you actually live there?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “Above your flower shop?”

  Seriously? This is what he’s asking me?

  “Yes. I actually live in a studio apartment,” I say sarcastically. “I have a good deal on it, and I don’t have to commute far to work.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he says.

  We’re not getting off to a good start. How can someone this hot and attractive be such a dick? We drive the rest of the way until we hit the ocean in silence. Finally, I get sick of it.

  “So, what do you do?” I ask as he turns onto Pacific Coast Highway.

  “I’m sort of in between things right now.”

  I shake my head.

  “What?” he asks.

  “So, you’re unemployed?” I ask. Now, it’s my turn to insult him.

  “No, not really,” he shrugs.

  “People with a little bit of money always say that.”

  He smiles his beautiful smile. I don’t know if I want to kiss him or punch him right now.

  No matter how much I love what I do, I can’t help but feel envious that some people can just have money and do nothing all day. I mean regular people wish we had the luxury to do that? To just bum around and surf and go out and do basically nothing while we try to find ourselves again?

  “I started a company a few years back,” Logan says. “It got very successful, and I ended up selling it to Google. So now I’m just trying to figure out what to do with my life.”

  Logan talks on and on about the details of his start up and how it allowed people to borrow money directly from their friends and family, not just a bank or a credit card. I listen, but end up getting lost a little in his long eyelashes and deep, soothing voice. It doesn’t hurt that he also smells intoxicating, like some sort of heavenly mixture of ocean waves and eucalyptus.

  We arrive at the restaurant a few minutes later. I’ve driven past this place numerous times, but I’ve never been inside. It’s right on the water, with outdoor seating facing the ocean. Almost every single thing in the restaurant is white except for the blue trim around the windows. It has an ultra-modern design, which I don’t usually love, but it somehow fits this place. The tablecloths are white and very expensive to the touch, the menus are an off-white color, and all the waiters and the waitresses are dressed in white. The party is already in full swing by the time we arrive. The hostess shows us to the deck, which is decorated with hundreds of yellow lanterns and flowers. It’s a little cold – about 60 degrees – but there are outdoor heaters all over the place to warm up the guests. I’m no longer regretting not bringing a shawl with me.

  Everyone who greets us give me a warm smile and a hug. I still don’t know about Logan, but his family is definitely very nice.

  “Hey, you made it!” Dolly comes over to us. She’s dressed in a hot pink suit that is probably tailored to accentuate her figure and is wearing a humongous diamond on her left hand.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I’m his aunt,” she says. “You didn’t tell her?”

  Logan shrugs; he looks a bit lost.

  “Dolly’s your aunt?”

  “Yep,” he nods.

  Before we get the chance to get further into this, the couple of the hour comes over. Logan introduces me to his brother Liam and his fiancé, Kora. For some reason, I was expecting some six-foot-tall model with a bubbly personality, but instead I met Kora. Kora is exuberant and effervescent and smart. She made me laugh within a minute of talking to her. Honestly, I had forgotten that girls like her still exist. Her husb
and-to-be also seemed nice – very different from Logan. Straightforward, not so showy. Normal, somehow. He’s of course not as good looking as Logan is, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders.

  For a moment, I excuse myself and turn around to get a plate of food. The three of them continue to talk, and I hear Kora say,

  “I like this one Logan. She’s really different from your usual lot.”

  That puts a smile on my face.

  Chapter 10 - Logan

  I arrive at the address that Avery gave me on the phone. At first, I don’t think that I have the right place, but then I see the sign for The Flower Patch and remember that Aunt Dolly said that she lives above it. I make my way up the dirty stairs, wondering how anyone could live up here. I don’t mean to be such a snob. It has been only a few years since I lived in my one-bedroom walk up in West Hollywood, but this place is a real dump. The door is all scratched up, and the railing is half falling down. I’m not even sure if this place is legal to rent out. Just as I get all down on myself for finally caving into Aunt Dolly and letting her set me up with one of the insane women who use her service, I knock on the door and see Avery for the first time.

  My heart jumps out of my chest. She has almond-shaped hazel eyes and long light brown hair which curls nicely around her voluptuous breasts. I have seen enough fake and real breasts to know the difference right away and hers are definitely not fake. She’s about five-foot-five and 110 pounds. Not a flamingo, but a nice womanly shape nevertheless.

  Usually, I have no problem making small talk, putting on my charm to woo a girl, but something about this one leaves me tongue-tied. I mumble something about how nice she looks, but it doesn’t seem to register. Instead, she comments on my Prius, which I frankly took because I didn’t want to move my other cars to get to the Maserati. She asks about what I do. I can’t very well tell her the truth, so instead I go on and on about my old company. This usually impresses the girls, but she doesn’t seem impressed. She looks bored and annoyed. Like I’m some rich guy who no longer has to work for a living while the rest of the world has to.

  After we arrive at the engagement party, things go from bad to worse. Aunt Dolly is there, and Avery looks mad that I didn’t tell her that she was my aunt. I probably should have, but for some reason, for the first time in my life, I’m tongue-tied. At a loss for what to say. I’m like one of those losers who stumble and mumble and say things that don’t make any sense. Over explain. Under explain. Let long moments of silence pass me by without a word. What. The. Fuck?

  “So, Dolly didn’t tell you that she was my aunt?” I ask when Kora and Liam finally leave us alone. Focus, Logan. Turn on the charm. You know how to do this. You’re a natural.

  “No,” she shakes her head. Her hair falls off her shoulder, exposing her cleavage a little more. She’s no model, but she definitely has the goods. And in that short, tight little red dress, they look like chocolates that I’m dying to unwrap.

  “Sorry about that. I thought you knew.”

  She shrugs. She’s about to look away somewhere in the distance, but I tilt my head toward her and look straight into her hazel eyes. Now, I have her.

  “You know, I’m not sure if I told you this earlier, but you look beautiful tonight. Stunning, actually.”

  A small smiles begins at the corner of her lips. I lick my lips. Her eyes light up. I feel an energy between us. Finally, I’m on the right track.

  “Thank,” she begins, but then clears her throat. “Thank you.”

  I stare into her eyes, trying to peer into her soul. I do this with all the girls, but with Avery, I’m actually doing it earnestly.

  “You know, you don’t look so bad yourself,” she says looking me up and down.

  I like the feel of her approving gaze all over my body. I know I look good, but it’s always nice to hear it from the person you want to pin against the wall and do bad things to.

  The tone of the evening becomes more serious for a moment, and I know that it’s that time.

  “Excuse me for a minute,” I bring her hand to my lips and give her a little peck. “But I have to make a toast.”

  As I walk away, I feel the burn of her gaze on me. She’s watching me. Falling for me. I’m back!

  With newfound confidence, I grab a glass of champagne and clink the glass. When the roar of the crowd quiets down, I start.

  “As many of you know, I’m Logan, Liam’s charming older brother. Liam has been my brother since my mom brought him home from the hospital, put him on my lap and said here he is. Your brother. To which I said, ‘That’s not a brother. That’s a baby!’”

  Everyone laughs. I look at Avery, who also seems pleased. Her smile gives me butterflies. I take a deep breath and continue.

  “Liam and I went through the usual rough patches – fighting over girls, fighting over cars, fighting in general. We didn’t have very much in common. Still don’t actually. And then came Kora. Liam met Kora in college freshman year at Oberlin. I first met her when she came out to visit him for spring break. Speaking as someone who knows how to do Spring Break right, I knew that they were meant for each other when they spent the whole week in each other’s arms on the couch at our parents’ house. They were like two peas in a pod.

  “I was a cynic back then – Who are we kidding, I’m kind of a cynic now – but back then, I was even more of a cynic. As much as I loved Kora, and as much as I thought Liam loved Kora, I thought that it would never last. Not all the way through college. Not through law school. And definitely not through all those early years of practicing law.

  “But as it turned out, I was wrong. And Liam was right. Not the first time! Kora was just the perfect girl for Liam. Kind, attentive, persistent and persuasive. Honestly, man, I have no idea how you got away with not marrying her for so many years!

  “What I’m trying to say, rather inarticulately, is that I may not know much, but I do know one thing. Liam loves Kora and Kora loves Liam. I guess that’s two things. They’re a perfect couple and I know that they will make each other very happy for many years to come.

  “To Liam and Kora, and the wonderful life they have ahead of them together!”

  Everyone claps and drinks. With tears in her eyes, Kora gives me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. I look across the deck at Avery. She looks impressed.

  Chapter 11 - Avery

  After listening to his speech, my opinion of Logan completely changes. I see him in an entirely new light. Instead of some rich, cocky guy with nothing to do during the day, he suddenly becomes a part of a family. Both Liam and Kora were touched by his speech. Kora even cried! Maybe he doesn’t show this part of himself often, but at least it exists.

  “You have quite a way with words,” I say to Logan when we’re alone. The rest of the party moved away from this side of the patio, toward the dessert table. It suddenly feels like the whole world has fallen away, and it’s just us, the cloudless sky, the bright yellow moon and the sound of calm waves falling onto the sand.

  “Thank you,” he says moving closer to me. The moonlight illuminates his luscious lips and plays with the sparkle in his eyes. There’s a mysterious quality to them that draws me in.

  Logan moves closer to me. He licks his lips and reaches toward my neck. The touch of his fingers along my jaw speeds up my heart rate. It feels like any second now it’s going to jump out of my chest. Slowly, his fingers make their way to my mouth and run along my bottom lip. His fingertips feel soft and rough at the same time. I look into his eyes. He leans even closer. I feel his breath on my lips and close my eyes. Our lips touch.

  His lips are effervescent. At first, the kiss feels like the kiss of a butterfly. Delicate. His tongue is foreign, yet familiar. He tilts my head back and drops his. He kisses my neck. Slowly. Deliberately. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  Our bodies get closer and our legs touch. I love the feel of his silk pant leg on my bare skin. Logan’s hands caress my shoulders. He pushes me back against the railing a
nd our kiss gains momentum. It’s no longer fragile. We’re no longer breakable. Passion sweeps through me, and I push back against him. His hard, toned body welcomes me in, but doesn’t give much. He pushes me back. Harder this time. This time, the railing digs into my back. It’s a bit painful. It might even leave a bruise, but it feels so good.

  “Logan?” I hear someone say his name. “Logan?”

  Reluctantly, he pulls away from me.

  “Are you serious?” the girl says. I can’t see her very well, she’s standing in the shadows, but I know one thing. She’s gorgeous. In her heels, she’s just as tall as Logan and all legs.

  “What?” Logan asks unapologetically. I don’t know who this is, so I try to create some separation between us. But he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me back.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s my brother’s engagement party. A better question is what are you doing here?”

  She ignores him. Instead, she walks closer to me and extends her hand.

  “Hi, I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Sadie,” she says in a high, peppy voice. I nod, introduce myself and shake her hand.

  “I’m the mother of Logan’s future child.”

  If I had a glass of champagne in my hand right now, I’m certain that I would have dropped it.

  “What?” I mumble.

  “Shut up, Sadie,” Logan shakes his head.

  “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

  I turn to Logan. He looks lost. His eyes search my face for some sort of response. My ears start to buzz, and I get a nagging pain in the back of my head.

  “Sadie is my ex-girlfriend,” he says. “She just told me about this pregnancy. I don’t even know if it’s mine.”