Page 6 of Once Upon A Sale

“It’s not that easy, Fifi. There’s a whole fucking process with questions and invitations and…” She squints at the screen, hermouth moving as her eyes dart left to right, over and over again. “You need a sponsor.”

“Where the fuck do I get one?” Now I’m on my phone, pulling up Marco Mancini’s number and ready to ask for a favor, knowing damn well he comes collecting when the time is right for him.

“It’s all word of mouth, you don’t just apply or sign-up. Hold on…” I’m about to press the call button when Opie looks up at me with fire in her eyes. “The only way in is if you’re scouted or recommended by a past client. You know any of those?” I keep staring at her long after she’s finished talking, then nod and press call.

“Signorina Warren, to what do I owe the privilege?” This man may be fifteen years my senior but that doesn’t mean his silky, Italian-tinted voice doesn’t make panties drop from both sides of the Atlantic. Oh, his wife is the luckiest woman alive.

“Mr. Mancini, hi. I’m so sorry to bother you, I’m sure you’re very busy running the world.” His dark chuckle makes my skin tingle without my permission. “But I need a favor.” There’s a pause, broken only by his hum on the other side of the line.

“You realize I always cash in my favors, yes?” It’s my turn to pause before getting in the proverbial bed with the devil of New York City. No matter how I turn it around in my head, I cannot let this rare opportunity pass me by.

“Yes. It’s a big ask but you know I’m good for it.” I mean, we’re on similar career paths, so it’s not like my soul is in danger.

“Bene. What can I do for you, Miss Warren?”

“I need to find a sponsor for the A Night to Remember Auction.” It occurs to me that he may not know anyone who’s dealt with them. I mean, how do you even know if someone’s been a client for these super-secret things? Fuck, what if I’ve given myself away? Marco is one of the smartest men I knowand if he’s got a bone, he’s going to gnaw on it until he gets the answers he wants.

“Hmm, si. The one in Detroit?” My eyes seek out Opie’s, wide with the hope I’m allowing to fill my heart. But when I speak I keep it all locked down.

“Yes.”

“I know someone. Do you need an invitation as a buyer or an item?” The cool and detached way he speaks of this whole thing makes me flinch until my working brain takes over.

At first, I wanted to go as a buyer. Cozy up to James Smith, make sure he’s the right target and end him at the first opportunity I get. Then it occurs to me…what better way to get close to him than to offer myself up on a silver platter? I mean, it’s risky, for sure, but I’ll go in using an alias and once we’re alone, I’ll cross him off my list.

“Item.” As soon as the word is out of my mouth, Opie jumps to her feet, almost dropping her laptop in the process, and points her index finger at my face, her teeth clenched and her eyes bulging with rage and worry. She knows me better than this. Once my mind is made up, all bets are off.

“Ophelia…” Oh shit, my first name out of his lips means this is bad. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?” No, not really, but I don’t have a choice.

“Yes.” I feel confident and I trust Opie and Tabs will have my back one hundred percent, but still, that one word is a complete lie.

“Well, just in case, let me explain it to you.” Holding my palm up to Opie, I pull my cell away with my other hand and put Marco on speaker phone. “This isn’t Sotheby’s where you can buy a rare painting from the Monet collection. This is selling sex for a weekend. The buyer pays an insane amount of money and the item gets five hundred thousand.” Well, that’ll go to charity, obviously. Cancer research needs the funds, always. And sex isjust that…sex. Not to mention that what Marco doesn’t know is that it won’t get that far. I’ll kill this asshole before he lays a single finger on me.

“What’s a little sex if it can help people with cancer?” Yeah, no fucking way Marco Mancini is buying this line of bullshit. Thankfully, he’s not only a great businessman but he’s also gracious enough not to call me out.

“You’ll be picked up at the airport, I’m assuming that’s how you’re traveling?”

“Yes, my private jet.” I can’t fly a regular airline, I’m going to need to transport my weapons.

“Yes, they’ll pick you up at the airport in a private car then take you to Club Lust where you’ll be auctioned off for the weekend. Do you need me to add protection for you?” As honored and touched as I am that the fucking Don of the New York Mafia is offering the umbrella of his protection, I can’t accept it. I can’t have him involved in this.

“No, thank you. I’m all covered.”

“Bene. If you need anything, let me know. If you’re accepted, you’ll receive an email with an application. Answer the questions carefully and as truthfully as possible.”

“Okay, easy enough.” His dark chuckle has all the hairs rising up on my arms. That sounds like the opposite of easy.

“Once that’s done, you’ll have an interview with a man. I don’t know the name because I have never attended, but you’ll be informed in due time.” Wait…if he’s never partaken how does he know all of this?

“For someone who’s never participated, you sure know a fuck load about it.” A muffled growl comes through the line, and in the background, I hear his wife laughing out right before she speaks loudly enough for me to hear her.

“Oh, someone’s using their potty mouth. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”What?

“Ignore my Tesoro, she likes to tease me about my hatred for curse words.” I snort because no fucking way this dude doesn’t curse.

“Done, but I’m curious. How do you know so much if you’ve never been?” Opie, Tabby, and I all hang on every word he has to say.

“Let’s just say my enemies tend to talk about a lot of things when the light at the end of the tunnel draws near.” Ah, gotcha. “Now, Ophelia, I will come through for you, but just be careful. Some of these people are dangerous.”

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