Page 61 of Hope's Highest Bidders

“I told you that I fucked up.”

She moves back into her room and says, “Yeah, you did. And you could have fixed it. You could have made it right. Instead, you made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you and left. I’m done talking now.”

I put my arm across the door to block her from shutting it. “But…”

She holds her hand up. “I’m done. Please, let me shower. You didn’t like seeing me up there? Imagine how I felt.”

Before I can ask her why she was even there, I let her close the door in my face. I lean my head against the cool, hard wood. I have to make this right one way or another. She’s going to leave here on Monday, and somehow I need to make things right before then. If I have my way, I’m going to do my best to convince her to stay.

11

MAGGIE

After a really hot shower, I get dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I pace across the bedroom, ignoring the rumbling in my stomach. I can smell the Italian spices coming from the kitchen, and it’s reminding me that I haven’t eaten all day.

I know I need to go out there and face Ben. I’m so confused about everything, but the more I think about it, the more I come to terms with it. Regardless of whatever took place three weeks ago, the fact is he spent eight million dollars for me. That has to mean something.

I walk out to the kitchen and stand awkwardly. I probably should have done something with myself.

“You feel better?” he asks, looking at me from head to toe.

I nod and move farther into the room. “Yeah, I think I scraped off three inches of makeup.”

He walks next to me and sets two plates on the table. He looks at me up close, and a soft smile forms on his lips. “You’re beautiful, Maggie.”

Heat forms on my face, and I smile. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, it’s ready. Have a seat.”

I sit down while he brings everything to the table. He dishes me out some spaghetti, and I dig in. We eat in silence for a while, and I try to slow down, but it’s really good.

It takes me a minute before I realize he’s not touching his food but instead just watching me.

I cover my mouth and swallow. “What?”

He shrugs. “I like watching you.”

I laugh. “You like watching me stuff my face?”

His hands curl against the hard wood of the table. “I like watching you enjoy your food. You make the cutest sounds and expressions.”

I put my fork down and cover my face. “Oh God, I probably shouldn’t eat in public.”

He reaches over and wraps his hand around mine, pulling it down. “Don’t stop. Did you eat anything today?”

I shake my head. “No. I was too nervous.”

He blinks, and it’s obvious he has something on his mind. “Go ahead. You have something you want to say. You might as well get it off your chest.”

He nods. “Why did you do the auction? Is it the money?”

I shake my head. “No—I mean, don’t get me wrong, the money is nice, but that’s not why I did it.”

“Why then? Why did you do it?”

I answer his question with a question of my own. “Why am I here?”

He juts out his chin. “You tell me why you decided to do the auction, and I’ll tell you why I went and bid for you. No bullshit.”

---