"I think you've changed," Ally said softly. "You're not the same person who walked into the shelter that first day."
"I definitely made some unfair assumptions at the start, and I'm not proud of that."
"You're not the only one who has made that mistake." Ally remembered the looks she used to get when she was sleeping rough. Until people stopped to talk to someone in that situation, it was easy to jump to conclusions.
"That doesn't make it right."
"No," Ally said in just above a whisper. "It doesn't."
"Speaking of the shelter... I don't want things to be awkward between us."
Ally had really read this situation badly. Her stomach dropped as Sydney's words sunk in. What had she been thinking? Kissing Sydney? Pretending to be her girlfriend? Sydney had no interest in her.
"No," Ally said, taking a sip of water. "Of course not. There's no reason for anything to change." The words tumbled out of her mouth. "Things won't be awkward."
"Good. And thank you for tonight. I can't remember the last time I went out like that. Usually, I'm meeting clients for dinner, or I'm going to the movies on my own. Tonight was fun. We should do it again sometime."
Ally swallowed the lump in her throat. Friends. That was all Sydney would ever see her as. Why did she have to get so caught up tonight?
Chapter Eleven
Sydney asked the taxi driver to turn off the Christmas song that she'd already heard twice today. Her feet were throbbing, and she couldn't wait to kick off these heels, but she had to do at least an hour at the shelter. She'd missed her hour on Wednesday, because she'd been doing exactly what she'd done today, showing a very picky client another four apartments that just happened to be spread out all over the city.
It was two weeks until Christmas, and even though her buyer was prepared to put in an all cash offer, Sydney wasn't a miracle worker. It was hard to get a deal done this time of year. People were getting ready to take two or three weeks off, to go back to their hometowns or head to the sun. Most people weren't willing to sell their homes this close to the holidays, but her buyer was determined, and Sydney had put in another long day, traipsing across the city, jumping at the chance to view an apartment at whatever time suited the other agent.
There was still no deal though. Not that Sydney really minded. She had nothing else to do. She didn't care about the holidays. She used all the parties and dinners she was invited to as a way to drum up business and get a foot in the door before people were actually ready to buy or sell in the new year.
Clarke's name appeared on her phone, and Sydney let it go to voicemail. He was still in the doghouse. They'd barely spoken in the last week. She'd only said a few words to him when she had to ask him about one of his clients. He'd apologized for whatever drama he might have caused that night with Ally, but Sydney couldn't deal with him right now. She had to keep the development on track and get rid of those protesters. She still had so many hours of community service left to do.
Thankfully, things weren't awkward with Ally, but then again, Sydney had hardly seen her. She still didn't know what happened that night. One unexpected, brief kiss still had her pulse skipping whenever Sydney thought about it. She was tipsy that night, and seeing Donna again had rattled her, but what was Ally thinking?
Sydney paid the driver as she stepped out of the taxi, almost slipping on a patch of ice. She opened the door to the shelter and was met with the hum of people talking, lots of people. It was like being at a concert before the main act came on.
"Do you have a ticket?"
Sydney turned to see an older woman with a Santa hat holding a bucket with the name of the shelter written on it in black marker. "Excuse me?"
"A ticket. For the fundraiser. The auction."
"Oh. That." Sydney had completely forgotten that was tonight, and she'd meant to buy a ticket last week. "No. Can I buy one now?"
"Sure."
Sydney slid a few extra bills into the bucket as the woman tore off a ticket and gave it to her. She also handed Sydney a white plastic paddle.
"Happy bidding!" The woman was on to the man who entered the shelter after her.
Sydney stared at the paddle. Seventy-six. That was her number if she was going to bid on anything. She tugged at her scarf, unwrapping it before tucking it into her handbag as she followed signs for the auction.
Ally ran a hand through her hair as she took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing mind down. She paced the volunteer's lounge, running through her mental checklist of all the things that needed to get done.
The night had gotten off to a pretty bad start. The hotel where the auction was supposed to be held had a plumbing issue and canceled on them at the last minute. They'd done their best, getting set up here at the shelter with only a few hours notice, and posting everywhere they could on social media to get the word out that the venue had changed.
Jess appeared in the doorway. "Hey. There you are."
Ally pushed up the sleeves on her sweater. Why was Jess holding the Santa dress that her friend was supposed to be wearing? "Where's uh... What's her name? The baker. Heather. Don't tell me she's running late. We have to get this thing started."
"No." Jess looked away for a second. "The flu."
"Oh. Well, I hope she's okay. Guess you're the one getting auctioned off now."
"Nope. Unfortunately not." She glanced at the dress in her hand, holding out the hanger to get a better look. "I definitely won't fit into this."
Ally's hands were on her hips. "So, what are we going to do? We don't have that many things to auction off. Heather was supposed to liven things up a bit. Everything else is gift certificates. Dinner with whoever gets to wear that," Ally said, waving her finger towards the skimpy red dress, "Was our big ticket item. Heather was supposed to be bringing some of her hot shot lawyer friends to bid on her. Is that not happening now?"
"I don't know," Jess said with a sigh.
"Sorry. I know it's not your fault. I'm just wondering if anything else could go wrong tonight."
"Well, there is one more thing." Jess bit her lower lip as she held out the dress.
"No. No... No way. I'm not auctioning myself off."
"You kind of have to," Jess said, coming into the room and closing the door behind her. "If we want tonight to be a success anyway. Like you said, all the other things are kind of boring. A round of golf. A car wash. This is the fun thing that people can get carried away with."
"Jess, please tell me you're joking." Ally stared at the dress while Jess opened the shopping bag that was in her other hand, producing a pair of red high heels."
"I'm not joking." She looked down at her watch. "You should probably get changed."
Ally took a step forward, eyeing up the dress like it was a caged animal that might bite her.
"You'll be fine," Jess said, giving the hanger to her. "Just stand up there and smile or wave or something. It'll be over in a minute."
Charity. This was for charity. They desperately needed the money for an extension since they weren't getting a second shelter. She'd just have to do this.
"Okay," Ally said, reaching for the dress. "I'll do it."
Sydney stood at the back of the room that was normally the dining area for anyone staying at the shelter. The room was packed with just about every metal folding chair filled. She'd missed the first few items, but there were still a dozen or so to go. They had a list on the door behind her, and even though Sydney didn't have an interest in any of them, she'd have to pick something to bid on. She wanted to support them. She could get the massage and give it to her assistant as part of her Christmas present.
Sydney let the next ten items go by, waiting for the massage. This set up was a far cry from the real estate auctions she used to go to back when she flipped houses. This was for charity though. She had to keep reminding herself of that.
"Alright," the female auctioneer said, coming back to the podium that was on the makeshift stage. Sydney had recognized the woman as an
other volunteer, although she couldn't remember her name. "Next up... We have dinner with Heather. Oh wait. That's not Heather." The woman took a step back from the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, you're bidding on dinner with Ally Coleman, a long time volunteer here at the shelter."
Sydney's lips slid into a smile, a laugh even escaping her mouth. Ally stepped onto the stage in a Santa style red dress with fluffy white trim, her bright red heels clicking on the tiny stage, her cheeks a similar color.
A wolf whistle cut through the hushed crowd. "Santa baby!" one man shouted.
"Who's going to start me off?" the auctioneer asked. "How about fifty dollars?"
Sydney's grip tightened on the plastic handle of her paddle. She'd bid if no one else did.
"Fifty," a man in one of the front rows shouted.
"Alright. We've got fifty. Someone give me seventy-five!"
A middle aged man standing two feet away from Sydney raised his paddle.
"One hundred? Who's got one-hundred for dinner with Ally?" the auctioneer asked, her eyes scanning the room.
The original bidder came back in and when it looked like no one else was going to bid, the auctioneer reminded the crowd that this was for a very worthy cause. Sydney's heart hammered in her chest as she lifted her paddle.
"We have a bidder at the back for one fifty," the auctioneer said with a nod, and a few people turned their heads to see who had bid. "Can I get two hundred? Back to you, sir. Two hundred?"
He took a second to think about it, and then raised his number.
Ally wanted to wipe her sweaty palms down the sides of her dress, but she couldn't. Not while she was on stage, anyway. How much longer was this going to go on? She hated having people looking at her, and she was wearing a dress that showed off far too much leg.
She'd zoned out for a few seconds, but she thought the bidding was up to two hundred dollars now. She didn't know if that was good or bad. She just hoped that the person she'd be having dinner with wouldn't be some creep. Ally glanced down at the man who just bid. He was wearing a dress shirt and looked to be in his late thirties, early forties.
This is for charity. Ally would do just about anything to help this place out, and standing on this rickety stage in this outrageous dress proved that.
"Alright," Maggie, the auctioneer said. "Two-hundred. Going once. Going twice..."
"Two-thousand," a woman from the back said in a raised voice and the crowd murmured. Heads turned. Ally's eyes narrowed, trying to figure out who it was that would bid that much.
"Did you say two-thousand dollars?" the auctioneer asked, leaning against the podium.
Ally could have sworn her heart stopped when her eyes landed on Sydney. She was at the very back of the room, standing, her paddle up, only just above her shoulder.
"Yes," Sydney said, lifting her number a little higher. "Two-thousand."
"Anyone going to better that? Twenty-one hundred dollars? Anyone?" Maggie asked, taking a quick look around the room, knowing that no one was going to challenge Sydney. "Going once, going twice... Sold! To bidder number seventy-six at the back of the room."
All eyes were on Ally again, and she gave a quick wave before leaving the stage. She was a mess, her heart thudding in her chest, her hands sweaty. Sydney bid on her.
Part of her was thrilled to raise so much money for the shelter, that Sydney would be the one to donate it, but another part of her could kill Sydney.
Maggie was back on the mic. "I hope you left enough money to buy Ally dinner," she joked as Ally pushed the side door open, relieved that the hallway was quiet and cool. The door closed behind her, blocking out the few laughs from the crowd.
Ally's heels echoed in the empty hallway as she made her way back to the volunteer's lounge. She couldn't wait to get out of this dress. Just as she pushed the door open, she heard Sydney calling her name.
"Ally? Hey."
She turned, holding the door open, leaning against it as she took in Sydney who looked absolutely stunning in charcoal work pants and a white button down top that revealed her collarbone and a silver pendant that glistened in the light as she got closer. Why did she always have to look so amazing?
Ally hadn't even expected to see her tonight. She assumed she wouldn't waste her time coming here when it wouldn't count towards her community service, but she was wrong. Not only had Sydney come, she'd made the biggest contribution of the night by far.
"Hi," Ally said, holding the door open for her as they went into the lounge. "Sorry, I was just going to get out of this thing and give it back to Jess's friend."
"I was hoping you'd hold onto it for our dinner." Sydney's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Hmm. I don't think so." If Ally hadn't been embarrassed enough by simply putting that dress on, having Sydney bid so much for her really did it. Ally knew her cheeks were still flushed. She took a bottle of water out of the fridge and took a long drink.
"When exactly is this dinner?" Sydney asked, her eyes never leaving Ally. "I didn't catch the particulars. I was... Distracted."
Ally didn't miss the way Sydney blatantly looked her up and down. "It's entirely up to you," she managed to say. "Thank you for your donation by the way. Very generous."
"I'm just glad to be able to help. It's not much in the scheme of things."
Ally nodded. "We have a long way to go, but every little bit helps, and that was more than a little bit, so thank you... Ideally we'd have a second location. That was the plan, but the site the city were looking at building on..." Ally sighed. "Some developer swooped in and outbid them. So some swanky apartments will probably be built there instead of another shelter. Anyway, we're moving on, and an addition to this place will have to do."
Sydney suddenly looked a little pale, and Ally wished she could take that rant back. Sydney had just made a donation, and Ally was acting like they were a lost cause.
"Sorry. I just get passionate about this place," Ally said with a weak smile. "Thanks for coming tonight. And thanks for bidding on me."
Sydney grinned. "I didn't know what I was going to bid on. Maybe the massage for a woman I work with, but then I saw you walk out there..." She shook her head. "I couldn't believe it, but then I knew what I'd be bidding on."
Ally's gaze locked onto Sydney's. Were they flirting? She had no idea what was going on between them, especially after that night after the movies. That was a week ago, and they'd hardly seen each other since. Not that Ally was anxious to see her. Not after the kissing disaster. Well, the kissing wasn't a disaster. It was amazing.
"Ally?" Sydney was looking at her with that lopsided smile that Ally loved.
"Yeah?"
"I said, I'll let you get changed... You okay?"
"Yes. Fine. I'm fine." Ally snapped herself out of the daze she was in.
"Alright. I'll probably see you here next week some evening. Good night, Ally."
"Night."
Ally exhaled once Sydney was gone. She kicked off her heels and padded over to the door to lock it while she got changed. What a night...
Chapter Twelve
Sydney asked her driver to wait for her when they pulled up outside the apartment complex where there was plenty of activity. She could see at least ten workers and a crane towered over her as she got out of the car. A small group of protesters marched in a single file line across the street, chanting something about the city and their taxes. She didn't bother trying to read the signs they were holding. Michael wasn't going to be happy.
Sydney had done the best she could, contacting a friend in the police department and a lawyer to make sure that they were within their rights to complain. There was nothing stopping them from setting up across the street though.
She picked up a hardhat on her way inside, glad to be out of the bitterly cold air. Michael was waiting for her in the lobby, and he didn't look impressed.
"Sydney," he said, unfolding a newspaper that was tucked under his arm. He adjusted his hard hat before shoving the bundle at her. "W
hat is this?"
Sydney kept her smart comment about the greeting she'd just received to herself. She glanced down at the paper, her eyes immediately falling on a photo of her with the auctioneer from last weekend. She cursed under her breath as she folded the paper and handed it back to him. That woman had been so enthusiastic and eager for a photo with Sydney that she caught her on the way out the door. Sydney didn't have the heart to say no, and now she had a problem.
"It's not what it looks like," Sydney said, hoping she could talk her way out of this.
"Tell me what it looks like."
"It looks like I'm supporting those pro-"
"You might as well be out there protesting with them," he said, cutting her off. "I'm sure it's a good cause, but right now, they're the enemy."
"It's not like that. I actually volunteer there," Sydney said, knowing this would either save her or be the last straw.
"You should have said something."
Sydney looked away. She would have, except that she didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. As far as she knew, Michael didn't know about her DUI, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"Sydney, I'm sick of all these distractions." His eyes were focused on the protesters behind her, and when they returned to her, there was a coldness in his gaze. "You're fired."
She put on her best poker face, her fists clenched at her sides, but she knew there was no point fighting it. She'd heard all the rumors about how difficult Michael was to work with. His ruthlessness didn't shock her. She extended her hand, and he reluctantly took it, giving it one shake.
"The best of luck," Sydney said, internalizing all of the things she really wanted to say.
"You too. Thanks for all your hard work."
Sydney nodded and turned to leave, the anger starting to pump through her veins. Why did she have to agree to that photo? If she hadn't, she wouldn't have been in the local newspaper. Michael wouldn't have known about it, and she'd still have her job. She didn't even want to think about the amount of money that just went flying out the window.
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