Page 8 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 1

The Madam waved her hand in a circle. “Then by all means, share it with me and perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

“I…” I frowned as a multitude of new, unexpected images flashed across my mind.

The way my best friend Erik looked at his new wife Savannah with such intensity, the love they share filled the very air around them.

How Henrik, the only father figure I’ve ever really known, doted on his wife, Irene. Lived to make her laugh, so he could simply see her smile.

My friend Troy kissing his pretty bride on their wedding day, with Erik and I standing up as witnesses.

Then the beautiful images changed.

Darkened.

Me standing without Erik at Troy’s funeral, holding his wife’s hand as she curled her free one around her largely pregnant belly while her husband’s ashes were handed to her.

Seeing Erik in the hospital, half of his body mangled and broken after the helicopter accident, believing he wouldn’t make it.

Being moved from one foster home to another over the years, losing my newest mother, time after time. No one ever wanted to keep me.

“I want a woman who will stay.” I swallowed past the lumps of cotton coating my throat. “A woman who will be devoted to me. To our marriage.”

“And you will have that. For three years. But I can’t promise forever, Mr. Larsen. Each candidate enters The Marriage Auction for their own reasons. What I can say is that most of my marriages stay intact far longer than the three-year period. And some end prior to that. It’s not often that a candidate breaks the contract and loses everything, but there’s always an out. For you and for the candidate.”

“Then why do we do it?” I breathed, uncertainty filling my veins.

That time she did smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I believe that is something only you can decide. Why are you really here?”

“I want what my best friend has. I want what his parents have,” I answered honestly.

She pursed her lips and waited for me to continue. The woman was more strong-willed and self-composed than any tycoon I’d battled in the business arena.

“I want true love.”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” She smirked. “As you know, I’m in the business of marriage. I’ve never offered love. I’m afraid you have to maneuver that path on your own.”

“But Savannah and Erik, Faith and Joel, Sutton and Dakota. Even the Penningtons, identical twin brothers, both found true love in a pair of sisters.”

“They did.” Alana dipped her head in acquiescence.

“And you’re telling me you had nothing to do with that?” My tone was rife with skepticism, and I didn’t try to hide it.

“You can believe what you wish. I can only tell you, Mr. Larsen, that I presented the opportunity, and the universe provided the happily ever after. Not me.”

“NowthatI find hard to believe. You had to have encouraged them somehow. Provided a hint of what was to come.” I was desperate for her to admit that she could, in fact, lead me to the right person.

“Is that what you want? For me to choose a bride on your behalf? And give you the opportunity to claim I chose poorly when there isn’t a love match? Basically, providing you with a reason to sever your commitment and walk away?” Her eyebrows rose. “I’m in the business of making money by offering a very unique and rather discreet service. A service you claimed to want.”

“And I do. But I can’t just walk into the room tomorrow and bid on the most attractive person on stage. I want to bid on the right person.”

“Only you can determine who that person is.”

I closed my eyes realizing that we were going round and round with no hope for resolution. Usually in business I would suggest a break to regroup so that each party could come back to the table with fresh ideas. This wasn’t one of those times. Staying the course was my only hope.

“Do you interview your clientele? Ask them what they are looking for?” I asked.

“I do.”

I licked my lips. “Okay. In doing that, if you’ve come across a woman who is sweet, kind, engaging, accepting of her partner’s busy work schedule, willing to attend business events happily, not because they are forced, who comes from…”

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