Page 156 of Whistle

Halfway across the stage, he stopped and gyrated his hips, the motion so fluid and natural it was so obvious he was a swimmer because, honestly, no other athlete could gyrate like that.

Catcalls, whistles, and squeals competed with the music. Rush laughed, and I glanced down the row of seats past Rory, who was covering her eyes, to Madison shaking her head like she was so over his shit.

Kinda funny.

Turning back to the stage, I watched Jamie stroll toward the catwalk and stop, spin, and twerk. Yep, popped that booty right out and gave it a little shake.

A woman in the center row fanned her face.

The music died down, the lights switched from the hot pink to normal, and Jamie strolled to the end of the catwalk where he slid his hands in the front pockets of his black tuxedo pants. The action tightened them across his strong thighs and somehow made his broad-ass shoulders even bigger.

Beneath the classic black jacket was a traditional white shirt with black buttons. But the bowtie around his neck made the run-of-the-mill tux seem modern and was a creative nod to his swim stroke. It was a monarch butterfly, its wide, colorful wings right there at his throat. It wasn’t orange, though, like the classic monarch. It was cherry red, which made the black and white designs on the wings pop.

Like me, he’d also forgone the usual dress shoe and instead donned a pair of bright-white Air Force Ones.

Smiling, Dean Cardinal came forward with the mic. “Mr. Owens, would you like to say anything to our bidders this evening?”

Mic in hand, Jamie turned back to the group. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk out here again?”

The dean threw his head back in an exaggerated laugh, but even with his proximity to the microphone, I couldn’t hear it because the audience was back to cheering and clapping again.

Rich people really should get better hobbies.

I can say that because I, too, am rich.

Jamie handed the mic back to the dean and did a little spin.

“All right, so for a chance to spend a full evening with Jamie—” A blast of old-school bad porno music cut through the air, and people cheered.

Once the rowdy and clearly horny crowd calmed, the Dean spoke. “This is a good time to remind everyone that this is a PG auction.”

“Boooo!” someone heckled from the back.

“Let’s start the bidding at two thousand dollars,” Dean Cardinal called.

“Two thousand!” A white paddle shot up.

“Twenty-five hundred,” someone else countered instantly.

Another bid paddle shot up. “Three thousand!”

A sound of annoyance cut in, and a girl shot to her feet in the middle, raising her white paddle high. “Four thousand!”

It was the girl in the pink dress who had insulted Madison during cocktail hour.

“Five thousand,” Madison said, demurely raising her bidding fan.

“Five thousand, five hundred.” Pink dress girl bid.

“Six thousand,” Madison said, her voice raising slightly.

“Seven.”

Madison one-upped her again. “Eight.”

Dean Cardinal made a sound. “Seems I’m not even needed to lobby this bid because I can’t even get a word in edgewise.”

“Ten thousand!” Pink dress girl hollered.

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