Page 3 of Good Girl and Grinches

Sabrina

I catch another glimpse of my stepbrothers lurking—it’s the best way I can think to describe the way they’re watching me. They’re hovering from a distance like anxious parents at a kindergarten play. Or more accurately, like older brothers who think they need to protect their little sister.

Why are they even here?

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, it hits me. They want to bid on a virgin.

Nope! My brain simply can’t process that thought.

When I meet up with Betsy to refill my serving tray, she brings up the dreaded topic. “Your brothers haven’t stopped watching you.”

“I guess the fancy hair, makeup, andway more revealing than normaldress aren’t enough to disguise me?”

Betsy shakes her head and joins me in reloading her tray.

“The whole protective big brother routine made sense when I was twelve, but I don’t need three built-in bodyguards anymore.” At some point, they have to accept that I’m an adult. But since I don’t date, the issue hasn’t been forced.

“To be fair, it’s always been hot when they go all growly and protective.” Betsy fans herself.

“Ick.” I wrinkle my nose and pretend that my fantasies don’t begin and end with them, but she’s right. They’re hot. They’re wealthy, only working because they love making the world a better place. And they’re the reason I don’t date—I’ve grown up idolizing an irrational standard.

“So, hypothetically, if we were on stage, would you want Hottie McDollarSigns to win you, or your stepbrothers?”

I’m not going to be able to answer this out loud. In a purely fantasy world, sure, my three stepbrothers would be… I’m not exactly sure what they’d be. It’s too far-fetched. Then again, Hottie, the extremely well-dressed man who’s been flirting with me outright said, “I can’t possibly bid on anyone after meeting you.” And I was still just a waitress.

But now that the virgins haven’t shown up, Jasmine’s vying for the three of us to go on stage. I can’t keep track of exactly what’s happening. I thrive on timelines and spreadsheets, not spontaneity.

A group of bidders raises a toast when Jasmine officially declares she’ll put herself up for auction. The men are encouraging more waitresses to step up.

I’m in shock as I scan the room. Am I the only one fazed by the abrupt change of plans?

Then my gaze drifts a tiny bit too far to Hottie McDollarSigns. His eyes lock onto mine. He points directly at me, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. “You’re mine!”

My heart skips a beat, and a mix of emotions swirls inside me—a jolt of arousal, a sense of pride, hard-core attraction, followed by confusion and concern.

We could do this. Betsy and I talk with Jasmine while the evening’s plans get relayed and the energy of the club shoots through the roof.

Lazovski’s voice comes through the speakers again, more serious this time. “Ladies, if you’re interested in participating, please meet me in the dressing room so we can go over the details and ensure everything is in order.”

“We’ve got a show to put on!” Jasmine has enough enthusiasm for all of us. She always does. That’s one of her best contributions to our friendship. And for all that we’re different, I trust her. She’s still beaming as we head down the hall. “We’re not just waitresses—we’re the stars of the show.”

Laz talks us through the two-page contract. The most important point for me is that we can back out at any time for any reason, and he gives us his personal phone number in case we leave the club with the winner or winners.

And then we sign, he collects the contracts, and in a few minutes, the auction is set to begin.

Betsy pulls us into a group hug and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, Sabrina?”

“I’m nervous, but what’s new? This is good. I’m looking forward to not being ruled by a checklist.”

“Or maybe you just need a different checklist.” Jasmine grabs her phone and types into it as she says, “Lingering possessive gaze, whispered sweet nothings, forehead kisses, neck kisses, full-body caresses, an orgasm before he puts his peen in you, preferably by getting down there and eating your pussy, and agood hard cock to fill you up and make sure you surrender so hard you forget all about lists, even this one.”

She emails it to me, and I have to admit, the checklist helps, especially the tamer items.

And with a little prompting from Jasmine, we find that the sexy red-and-white dresses the virgins were going to wear fit us. Not as perfectly as the aubergine dresses made specifically for us, but we look good.

I grip the edge of the backstage vanity, staring at my reflection as the reality of what I’ve just agreed to crashes over me. The auction block. Me. Tonight.

“What was I thinking?” My hands shake as I apply another coat of lip gloss. “This isn’t like letting Jasmine talk me into skinny-dipping at midnight or crashing that frat party.”

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