Page 4 of Good Girl and Grinches

Betsy appears behind me in the mirror. “You can still back out.”

“I might never get to enjoy the checklist Jasmine made for me if I do.” The lip-gloss tube slips from my fingers, clattering across the vanity. “Besides, I signed a contract. I want to make good on my word. And the money goes to charity…”

“True. For the veterans…” Betsy laughs then turns serious. “But this is your body we’re talking about. Do what’s right for you.”

And before I know it, I’m standing beside the stage with Betsy and another waitress-turned-auctionee, Naomi, while Jasmine starts the bids.

The Christmas Cherry Auction’s reputation looms in my mind—all those fairytale endings. What if my perfect match is out there right now, paddle in hand?

“I mean, statistically speaking…” I retrieve the fallen lip gloss. “What more could I ask for than the auction’s hundred-percent success rate.”

“Yeah, but you’re not looking to get married tonight.” Betsy’s reflection raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

The question hits me like a bucket of ice water. Am I ready for that kind of commitment? To potentially meet the man—or men—I’ll spend the rest of my life with?

“I always thought I’d know when I met the right person. That there’d be this moment where everything clicked into place.” I catch my reflection fidgeting with my hair. “Not an auction paddle deciding my future.”

“Then walk away.” Betsy squeezes my shoulders. “No one’s forcing you to do this.”

But something keeps me rooted in place. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s fate. Or maybe this is what it looks like when things click into place—arriving at the auction just before the roads got too dangerous, the virginsnotmaking it, and being given the opportunity to go on stage. If I had the entire next year to plan to do this, I wouldn’t. This is the only way.

And more so… my stepbrothers are here. Is it meant to be? Thankfully I don’t have to depend on that much fantasy since Hottie’s going to bid on me.

As we step out of the dressing room and parade ourselves through the auction room, as Jasmine insisted, the bidders go wild.

Mr. Hottie McDollarSigns nods at me and everything feels right as long as I don’t think about my stepbrothers. I don’t have a guarantee that Hottie will win the bid on me, but at least I’ll get bid on. That’s enough to keep me in the game. I can go back to being my normal self tomorrow once I complete the checklist Jasmine was kind enough to share.

We follow Jasmine’s lead, taking our places on the stage. She has no qualms about taking the microphone. “Hello, hello!”

She continues by introducing us, but I can’t hear her over the tunnel vision and tunnel hearing. Mr. Hottie hasn’t taken his eyes off me. My mind replays his comment over and over again.

You’re mine.

Three

Flame

I grip my glass tighter as the third virgin goes for three million. Ty bid on all of them but backed out at the last second. “This is getting out of hand. How much can we put together if we pool our funds?”

What happens in the Aubergine Affair is supposed to stay in the Aubergine Affair. But some fuckers have no respect for rules. Admittedly, that’s often me. If one person narcs that we won our stepsister in a virgin auction, our bid for promotion will be rejected. The stiffs that we’re replacing have to decide to leave to open up positions for me and my brothers. They’re called stiffs for a reason, and it’s not for their starched shirts.

Ghost’s jaw tightens. “I’ve got access to about a million liquid. You?”

“Half that?” I run a hand through my hair. “Ruckus?”

“I didn’t know I needed to check my portfolio today. Around two.” Ruckus leans forward, eyes locked on Ty’s smug face across the room. “Have you noticed Ty’s pattern?”

“Playing games.” Ghost’s voice carries his signature calm.

Ruckus agrees. “I’m guessing his money’s all tied up in his fancy suit. Running up the bids makes him feel important but he can’t back it.”

The spotlight hits Sabrina and my world stops spinning. She shuffles onto the stage in a dress that shows me a side of her I wasn’t prepared to acknowledge.

I blink several times. It’s her.

The red shimmery fabric clings to every curve as if painted onto her body. I shouldn’t notice, but God help me, I do. Her dark hair cascades past bare shoulders, and her plump red lips look as if she’s applied a fresh coat of gloss. Of course she has.

My chest constricts. Sabrina isn’t just my little stepsister anymore. Sabrina is the focus of everyone in this room… except for Jasmine and the men who bought her. They aren’t wasting any time making good on the auction commitment for satisfying sex.

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