Auctioned to Him 7: The Contract

by Charlotte Byrd

  “Oh,” I say.

  “I don’t really know who he is, so when he sees me, I don’t want him to think that we’re together.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll just take this seat next to you and finish my drink.”

  The crinkle on her face tells me that she’s not very happy about that. I take a seat and look at her again. Did Dolly really do this? How the hell did this happen?

  “You’re staring at me,” Chloe says.

  “I know. I can’t help it.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Where’s your date?” she asks.

  This is my moment. To tell her that it’s actually her. But for some reason, I don’t want to. I should do it. Of course, I should. But something is holding me back. What if I don’t? What if she doesn’t know that this is a date? It’s a terrible idea. Horrible. You have to tell her the truth.

  “I’m actually here alone,” I say after a moment.

  “Oh yes, of course, Ariel. I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.”

  “So, what about you? You out on a blind date?”

  “Yes, I guess. It’s so silly, actually. I ran my car into this woman who ended up being a matchmaker.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, who would’ve thought that these people still existed? But she was actually really nice. We got to talking, and then she insisted that she has just the right guy for me.”

  “So, this is your first date?” I ask.

  “Yep. Kind of odd, I know. A black tie event was not my idea, let me tell you. But somehow I got roped into doing this,” Chloe says and finishes her martini.

  “Funny, you don’t seem like the kind of girl who can be roped into things easily,” I say. I wink at her. Put on the charm. From years of experience, I’ve learned that girls like nothing better than to be told that “you don’t seem like the kind of girl who does…blank,” but Chloe doesn’t buy it. She simply rolls her eyes at me in exasperation.

  “Does that work on other girls?” she asks.

  “Does what work?”

  “You putting on your charms like that?”

  “Well, yes, most of the time,” I admit begrudgingly. “But I can see that it doesn’t work on you. How about this? Why don’t you let me buy you a drink to apologize?”

  She smiles, shaking her head no.

  “No? And why not?”

  “Because, my date is coming. He’s going to be here at any moment.”

  “And so what? You’re not allowed to have a drink with a…colleague?” It took me a moment to find just the right word for our relationship.

  “Oh, is that what you and I are?” she asks. “Colleagues?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she says dismissively.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because, because…you’re Finn Dalton. You made, what $20 million dollars on your last movie? I live in a two bedroom apartment with my sister, and I can barely come up with my share of the rent every month. And it’s a grand.”

  “Well, technically, I made zero dollars on my last movie. Because I’m not getting paid anything for the one we’re working on now.”

  “Eh, doesn’t matter,” she waves her hand at me.

  “So, you’re not going to let me buy you a drink because we’re not equally paid colleagues? That seems very unfair. To me.”

  “Well, life’s not fair. You better get used to it.”

  “But you see, life has been more than a little fair to me. And I just don’t have experience with it being unfair.”

  “So, I should just cave to your every whim and desire, then?” she asks. Wow, this conversation is headed somewhere sexy. Didn’t expect it to go there quite yet, but I kind of like it.

  “That would be a nice start,” I say, locking my eyes onto hers. She looks away first.

  “Bartender, can you get me another scotch on the rocks please. And another one of these,” I say pointing to Chloe’s empty glass.

  “Another pomegranate martini?” the bartender asks Chloe. She nods, admitting defeat.

  When our drinks arrive, I look down at my watch. It’s almost time for the event to start.

  “So, how late is your date?” I ask. She takes my hand and looks at the watch. Then she shakes her head, crinkling her nose. I get goose bumps up my arm when she touches my wrist. Her fingers are ice cold, but the shivers have nothing to do with the lack of heat. It’s the exhilaration of actually touching her.

  “Shit,” she whispers.

  “Late, huh?”

  “Very late.”

  Chloe drops her head a little and turns away from me. For a second, I think she’s going to cry. I want to take it all back. This stupid joke. I don’t even know why I did this. I could’ve just told her the truth. I should’ve. I should do it now.

  “Maybe he came in, took one look at me and left?” she asks, turning her head up toward mine.

  “Impossible.”

  “Listen, I have to go on now. I’m getting an award from the Governor.”

  “Oh you are? Really? Congratulations?”

  “And I don’t have a date. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “What? Me? No, I can’t.”

  “You can’t just keep sitting here waiting for him. Come inside with me. Listen to my boring speech. We’ll have some food. A few more drinks. C’mon, you’ll do me a favor. And if this asshole does ever show up, he’ll be the one who’ll have to wait for you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not just doing this because I’m this pathetic person who got stood up at a black-tie event, are you?”

  “Of course! Why else?” I joke. She cracks a smile.

  “But I’m also doing this because I’d like to have the most stunning woman in the room be my date.”

  She looks at me. For a moment, she believes me. I’m telling the truth, pouring my heart out, and she actually believes me. But then her face breaks into a wide smile.

  “Yeah right. You know, I bet you got lots of girls to sleep with you with a line like that.”

  I nod. “You got me.”

  I’m a coward for hiding behind humor.

  “Okay,” she says after a moment. “But only if I’m not intruding.”

  Chapter 15 - Chloe

  We enter the ballroom, arm in arm. Is this really happening? Am I actually pretending to be Finn Dalton’s date at this black tie event? I’m a little bit upset about Dolly’s date not showing up, but to have Finn as a replacement is beyond my wildest dreams. Of course, Finn isn’t really a replacement. There’s nothing romantic about this. Though it is quite a turn on to have everyone in the room thinking that I’m his date for the night. This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.

  “We’re up front,” he whispers in my ear. My arm is wrapped around his at the elbow. I can feel how strong his arm is, powerful and defined. I’ve seen how toned his body is, and walking next to him, I can feel it a little as we move among the tables. For a second, I forget to breathe.

  The beginning of the evening is a blur. It’s like I’m there, but I’m also not there. I watch the Governor of California introduce Finn and talk about all the money that he has raised for leukemia research. Everyone listens and claps. Then Finn goes up and talks. When he flashes me a smile from the podium, I feel a spark of electricity course through my entire body.

  “Thank you very much Governor, for those kind words,” Finn says. “And thank you very much, American Leukemia Foundation, for honoring me with this honor. But like many of you in this room, the real honor belongs to those brave men and women and children who fight this epidemic every day. I didn’t know anything about leukemia until my best friend, Shawn, got diagnosed with it. But watching him fight so bravely for his life has changed mine. Shawn lost his life, but his legacy lives on. In my heart and in the hearts of so many people who loved him. And that is why we all do this, isn’t it? To prevent unn
ecessary deaths like his from happening to people all over this country. So, if you don’t mind, I would like to take this opportunity and dedicate this award to my friend Shawn – whose spirit continues to live on.”

  The room explodes with applause. I clap so hard my hands start to hurt. Somewhere in the midst of the outpouring of love, I feel a tingling in the back of my throat. Tears are starting to build up, and as much as I try to hold it back, one appears. I wipe it away quickly, but not before Finn sees it.

  “That was a wonderful speech,” I say as cheerily as I can.

  “Thanks. Are you okay?” he leans close to me. We’re so close, I can feel his breath on my lips. I jerk away.

  “Yes, I’m fine. That was just so sweet, what you said.”

  “Thank you. It was a very difficult thing to deal with,” Finn says.

  “Are you crying?” he asks, leaning even closer to me. As if that were physically possible.

  “No,” I lie.

  “He was a really good friend of mine. We met in kindergarten. We were friends through the years growing up.”

  “Was he an actor, too?”

  “No, just a regular guy. He was diagnosed with leukemia when we were both 23. He just started his first full-time job. He was going to be a real estate agent. He didn’t even make it a year.”

  “That’s awful,” I say.

  “It just came so suddenly. Hit his whole family, all of us, completely off track.”

  Now, it’s his turn to tear up. His lips get a little red around the edges, and his eyes get moist. But he’s much better at hiding it than I am. A second passes, and it’s all gone.

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I’m sorry. You’re sorry. None of it will bring Shawn back. And knowing him as well I as I did, I can tell you one thing. He would never want us mourning him like this.”

  “Oh yeah? So what would he want?”

  The music coming from the dance floor gets a little louder, and I suddenly become aware of the world outside the two of us.

  “Dance.”

  “Dance?”

  “Yep. If Shawn were here, he’d take you in his arms and swirl you round and round. And I know that he’d think I was a fool if I didn’t do that exact same thing.”

  “Okay then,” I nod. “Let’s dance then. For your friend Shawn.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. It takes one move of his hips, and I know immediately that he’s an amazing dancer. Finn is so light on his feet. He moves with grace and determination. His hips move completely independent from his shoulders and his butt follows an entirely different beat from his feet.

  “You didn’t tell me that you were such a good dancer,” I say.

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “What other talents are you hiding?” I ask. I’m not usually this forward, but I’ve had a little bit too much to drink.

  Suddenly, a slow song comes on. He takes me into his arms. I run my fingers over his hard biceps and make my way toward his back. Even through his crisp, starched white dress shirt and his suit, I can feel the muscles in his back. Is Finn Dalton really holding me close? Adrenaline starts to rush through my body, and I feel lightheaded. I feel like I’m going to faint.

  “I don’t…” I start to say, and I stumble. The world turns to black. When I wake up again, I’m sitting at the table, and Finn is crouched on the floor next to me. His face is close to mine. His eyes look concerned. Petrified, actually.

  “Are you okay?” he asks over and over. I take a deep breath.

  “What happened?”

  “You just went limp in my arms. I’m not really sure.”

  “Did I pass out?” I ask slowly.

  “I think so. Maybe. For a second or two.”

  “Oh my God, how embarrassing.” I think that I say it silently, or at least under my breath. But apparently, I didn’t.

  “No, it’s not. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  I need to get myself together. I sit up in my seat and straighten out my dress. As if that’s going to make everything better. I take a sip of water.

  Then I look up at him. He’s still there. He hasn’t moved. He’s sitting before me with one knee on the floor. The position that men take when they’re about to propose. I take his hands into mine and lift him up into his seat.

  “I’m fine, really,” I say. His face shows some relief. The lines in between his eyebrows straighten out, and a small smile forms on his mouth. I never noticed this before, but his smile is a little crooked. One side of his mouth goes up a little higher than the other. It’s endearing and beautiful. I have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, but I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.

  A few strands of hair fall into his eyes. He pushes them back into place. His eyes catch the light, and I see my bewildered face in them.

  “I think I need to go home,” I say. “You gave a wonderful speech. Thank you for inviting me to see it.”

  He shakes his head. Is that a tinge of disappointment on his face? No, it couldn’t be.

  “Okay, I’ll walk you to the valet.”

  I’m about to fight him on it, but I can’t say no to a few more minutes with him. For a moment, he stops being Finn Dalton, the movie star, in my mind and becomes Finn, a really hot guy who I think I like. No, I know I like him. But then my mind snaps back into place. He isn’t just some guy asking to walk me to the valet. He’s still a movie star, and a movie star isn’t going to be interested in me. At least, not this one. I’ve seen the tabloids. I’ve seen the girls he has dated. I’ve seen pictures of Ariel Chantal. No, he’s just being a nice guy. Finn is just an incredibly nice guy.

  We walk out of the building arm in arm. Finn takes me by my arm and doesn’t let go until I hand the valet my ticket.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” he asks. I nod.

  “Thank you very much for tonight,” I say turning to him. “You know, you’re a great guy.”

  “Oh yeah?” he smirks. There’s that sexy arrogance again.

  “Yeah. This night could’ve been really crappy. Being stood up and all. And not just as some dinner date. A fucking black tie event! Honestly, it sort of felt like I was stood up at prom. But then you came. And invited me to hear you speak. I just want to thank you for doing all that now. Because I might forget to do it at work.”

  Finn looks straight into my eyes. He tilts his head a little. We are standing so close to one another I can feel his breath on my lips. He runs his fingers along my neck. Ever so softly. I hold my breath. Then he runs his fingers over my bottom lip. He casts his eyes toward my lips and then back to mine, as if he’s asking permission to kiss me. I close my eyes and wait.

  “Ma’am? Your car?” someone says. The valet! The fucking valet! What is he doing here? He broke the spell between us. I want to get into my car and drive over him for doing this. I would be justified. There’s no way that any jury would ever convict me if they heard all the details of the moment that he just ruined. Instead of doing that, I nod and smile and pull away from Finn.

  “Thank you,” I say politely. I take the ticket and look in my purse for a tip. As I walk over to the driver’s side door of my sister’s beat up Honda, I suddenly realize that I have to walk back to the passenger’s side to get into it. Turning around, my heel lands right into the large crack in the ground. I stumble and grab onto the car to catch myself.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Finn runs over to me.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to give her a ride,” he says decisively to the valet before I can even respond. There’s no question. There’s just the statement.

  “Can you please put this car back in the parking lot? We’ll get it tomorrow,” Finn says, handing the valet some money. “And here’s my ticket.”

  I follow Finn back to the bench in front of the hotel to wait for the valet to come back. Neither of us says anything for a while.

  “I hope that this is okay with you,” Finn fin
ally says. “But I think you had a little too much to drink to drive. It’s not safe.”

  I nod and continue to stare straight ahead. I fear that if I open my mouth to say a word, I will not be able to hide the huge smile that’s forming on my face. I’m afraid if I turn to face him, I won’t be able to contain my arms, and they’ll throw themselves around him in a warm hug. No, instead, I remain perfectly still. Perfectly contained. Finn doesn’t say another word. I feel him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but the glances are occasional and sporadic.

  Chapter 16 - Chloe

  Finally, the valet arrives in a gorgeous, silver convertible with elongated lines and beautiful curves. Finn opens the door for me and gives the valet what looks like a $100 bill.

  “What kind of car is this?” I ask as we pull out of the parking lot. The leather seats, the color of bitter chocolate, seem to almost mold to my body.

  “2016 Aston Martin DB9 GT Volante Convertible,” Finn says looking straight ahead.

  “It’s really nice,” I say.

  “Thank you. Where do you live?”

  I give my address.

  “You know, you really didn’t need to give me a ride.”

  “I know, I want to. Don’t you know that it’s not good to drive drunk?”

  I inhale deeply. Of course, I know that. Does he think I’m an idiot? But that wasn’t why I stumbled. And that was not why I was feeling off all night. I mean, who wouldn’t? I got stood up at a black-tie event. Then, one of the biggest movie stars in the world asked me to be his date. But, of course, this is nothing that I can explain to him. I doubt he’d be able to relate to it.

  “Can I ask you something?” Finn asks.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want to come over to my place? And hang out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just thought that we were having a good time dancing. Getting along, and all that. So, I was wondering if you’d like to hang out.”

  I shrug. I don’t really know how to answer him. I should say no. This is too awkward. What if something goes wrong? How will I get home? This is the reasonable and sensible side of my brain talking, but then the other one pipes in. The one that says, why not? You do like him. What’s the worst that could happen?