Page 11 of My Soul for Sale

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address.”

The interview went well. Edward was slightly intimidating but more so because he was so serious. The man didn’t crack a joke or smile the whole time. I felt like the FBI was interviewing me. I’m unsure if he was like that with everyone or just me, but I’m glad it’s over.

It was easy, he mainly just asked what I had already told them on the application.

I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement. Signing meant sealing my lips, guarding the auction's secrets.

Then he informed me my tests from the clinic came back clear, which I knew they would. I did thank him for sending me to the other clinic.

Running into Jenna would have sent me right back out the door, the auction in my rearview mirror. She was the run-down ugly version of Regina George when she was younger, and I'm sure nothing has changed.

I haven’t seen or heard from her in years and for that, I’m thankful. However, even all these years later, I find myself laughing internally that someone called and turned her in for being a gossiping bitch. We’re adults now, there is no need to spread rumors and play childish games.

The sizzle of onions fills the air, snapping me from my thoughts as I stand in my tiny kitchen, the aroma of spices wafting around me. With a flick of my wrist, I stir the seasoned beef, watching it brown in the skillet.

As I reach for the tortillas, my phone buzzes on the counter. I wipe my hands on a towel and glance down at it. An email notification stares back at me. My stomach drops at the thought of it being Edward. What if it’s a rejection?

Like a college student opening their college acceptance, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and tap the screen.

My heart races as the email opens, anticipation tingling in my fingertips. The words blur as I scan them, my breath catching in my throat.

Sloane,

I am pleased to announce you have been selected to participate in the Night to Remember Auction held on May 10th at Club Lust. A town car will pick you up at the address you supplied and return you at the end of the event.

You are to ensure that you are free from Friday night until midnight on Sunday night. Once purchased, you, the merchandise, will spend the weekend with the winning bidder. At the end of the weekend, you will be returned to Club Lust, where you will be compensated with payment.

You will wear your best lingerie on stage. Hair and makeup will be supplied courtesy of the club. To keep identities private, you are to choose a name to be called for the weekend.

If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to reach out.

Edward

Holy fucking shit!

With newfound excitement, I return to the stove, a smile tugging at my lips. I can’t believe I’m about to buy a house and have money in the bank. I’m going to celebrate tonight and enjoy my tacos.

Chapter Seven

Ripley

The letter sits on my kitchen counter, its crisp edges taunting my curiosity. With trembling hands, I unfold it; this could be our acceptance or rejection from the auction. I’ll admit that when Atlas brought it up, I was unsure and slightly irritated that he thought I needed to buy sex. But the more I thought about it, the more I warmed up to the idea.

A weekend with a woman, no strings attached, could be just what I need. I haven’t sunk inside a warm mouth or tight pussy in almost a decade. Women complicate things; my marriage is proof of that. My mind wanders as I recall how things went from good to hell in a matter of a few years.

I met Ali at a local bar and we hit it off. She was fun, didn’t bat an eye at me having a teenage son, and it felt like she understood me. We introduced each other to our children pretty quickly, and they got along fine. Sloane was kind of standoffish, but I was the new man in her mom’s life, so I didn’t push.

My first red flag should have been that; the second, she wanted all our dates to be somewhere she could get a cocktail, and we rarely had sex. In the little over two years we were together, I think we had sex three times. None of those times were post-wedding.

After we tied the knot, it’s like she changed into a completely different person. One I couldn’t stand to be around. I tried to make it work because I thought I loved her; I did love her daughter, and so did Atlas.

I figured out rather quickly she had been hiding her alcoholism. No problem, we could get her sober together. I would have walked that path with her, no questions asked. The drugs, though, were a hard no.

I went to work the morning she was supposed to go to rehab, knowing that night we were driving her to Carmire Facility. It wasn’t a full day, but I wanted to at least get the drywall guys pointed in the right direction.

Two hours… I was gone for two hours and came home to her fucking some grungy-looking asshole in my bed.

There’s not much I can recall after that. I saw red—both of our kids were home and she was cheating on me? I stormed into the room, ripped her off the guy, and he scrambled to get his pants on. Before he left the room, she screamed, “What about my shit?”

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