“Sold!” the auctioneer announces to a massive surge of applause.
I swivel my eyes towards Finn. He nods at the auctioneer and casually turns to a man seated beside him to continue a previous conversation, oblivious to the murmurs that echo through the room.
* * *
CAMILLE
“Without a doubt, one of our favourite events of the year,” Rheese drawls, Valentina draped over his arm. She’s wearing a see-through top and a long, see through tulle skirt, her midriff exposed. They’re leaning on each other pretty heavily.
“Thank you so much, guys.” I smile at them. Rheese looks me slowly up and down. He looks like he wants to say something, but his girl drags him away to introduce her to a celebrity.
Finn comes walking up.
Shit.
He ignores me and instead steps up to Bruce to mike him up.
He straightens his collar and looks into the camera expectantly. All the drivers are obliged to participate. But I can tell he’s spoiling for a fight.
I’m happy to oblige.
I clear my throat.
“Are you having a good time?”
“Sure.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“No.”
Fucker.
“You’re the proud new owner of an extremely expensive diamond necklace. How does that feel?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It isn’t for me.”
He’s still looking into the camera, ignoring me.
“Who is it for?”
He doesn’t answer.
A woman steps up, as if on cue. She’s in a champagne wrap dress, her bust barely held inside, a long slit on either side. Her legs kick out the cloud-like material as she walks over on impossibly high stilettos, every foot in front of the other. Her chocolate-brown hair is glossy and thick, falling down in layers.
“Wouldn’t we all like to know?” she says, breathily. She has a Latina accent, and she’s sex personified.
He looks at me now. He cocks his head, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. She steps up close to him, her back to the camera, and leans in to whisper something into his ear.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine.
He’s proving his point.
We’re squaring off. I’m all bravado, but I want to cry again. He’s infuriating.