Page 1 of Hacker Auction

CHAPTER1

Wes

Not redeeming date.

—Rachelle Carlton

I glanced at the yellow sticky note a second time to make sure I read it correctly. Rachelle paid two million dollars for our date, and she decided not to fulfill the obligation with a sticky note.

For a month I tried to talk my way out of the charity auction as often as possible, but that was before the brown haired beauty in the back corner bid on me. Now I wanted to know everything about her, except she couldn’t even tell me she didn’t want to go on a date to my face.

Her smile drew my attention the second I caught sight of her on the monitor backstage. Rachelle Carlton’s long brown locks covered her bare shoulders. The silver dress she wore hugged her curves perfectly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her ass as it swayed on the security screen when she got up to talk to a woman a couple tables away from hers.

The only reason I was at the event and being auctioned off was because of Martha Ross. The older woman seemed to have everyone under her spell. She also wasn’t a woman anybody seemed able to say no to, including me. Martha was the mother of Alex Ross. I’d only met Alex a month ago at my sister Patty’s wedding. Martha had also come and somehow roped me into joining the charity auction. The second day Martha and her husband arrived in Shialia, the country my sister runs. She asked if I would fly to the states for a charity auction. I politely declined because I couldn’t leave my brother in law, Sam, alone in the middle of an investigation.

I was Sam’s right hand man. Women had disappeared from Shialia, and it all led back to the Zarus Church. The trail led to the United States. Senator Ricker Smith was in our sights, but we couldn’t pin anything on him. Sam had asked me to go to Ft. Lauderdale with his old team to help locate the three missing women from Shialia.

When I agreed to help his former teammate Brock, I hadn’t seen Martha in the room. The second I agreed, she yelled with excitement because I could be her nomination into the annual charity auction where men and woman were auctioned off to the rich for a date.

Even when I landed in the states, I figured I would wrap up the case before the auction and be on my way home, but we weren’t any closer to closing the case. Five years ago I left Florida with a one way ticket to Shialia after I spent time with my father. Not once did I ever plan to step back in the states. The place held too many bad memories, but the more time I spent at Blackwood Security the more I wondered where I fit in.

My life back in Shialia was structured, and I knew what to expect. I hadn’t planned on leaving the small country ever again, but the Zarus church had taken women from Shialia. All the information we found pointed to a senator out of Florida. Which was why I left my life in Shialia behind to take over the case in Florida with the help of Sam’s friends. Information on the black web led us to believe the Zarus church had sold the women and they were headed for the Miami port.

The auction was the first time I took a complete night away from the case. A date would help me clear my mind for a few hours. As long as it was only one date. After I got burned by my ex six years ago, I swore off spending more than one night with a woman. Instead, my preferred method for spending time with a woman was going to a bar and picking one up for the night.

The auction wasn’t about finding love. It raised money to feed hungry kids. Prior to the auction I turned on the monitor in my dressing room. The room full of people flashed across the screen. The crowd fought and bid over the woman who walked across the stage.

My eyes kept going back to the corner of the room. The woman in a silver dress, she had to be in her late twenties. When the older woman next to her leaned over and whispered something in her ear, the younger woman covered her mouth as she laughed. The older man next to her raised a brow and she shook her head. I wanted to know what was so funny, but what I wanted even more was to hear her laugh.

Her silver dress sparkled in the light, her curly brown hair begged for my fingers to weave through it, and when she shifted in her chair, the slit up the side of the dress opened further, showing her thick milky thighs. Jesus, she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. When the coordinator told me I was next up, I pulled my eyes from the screen and wished she would look my way once.

I flicked the television off and headed for the stage. A man dressed in a tux stood to the right at a podium. Once I stood in the center of the stage, the announcer cleared his throat and pushed his wire rimmed glasses up. His booming voice poured through the microphone with my life story. Except every word out of his mouth was incorrect. When he said I was from Britain, my head swung, wondering who the hell even came up with my back story. The last sentence stated I loved deep conversations and singing in the rain. I couldn’t help but shake my head, and then I caught Martha Ross’s eyes. Judging by the cat-eating grin on Martha’s face, I no longer wondered who created my false background. Now all I had to do was get through the auction and one date. When the auctioneer opened up the bidding, a woman in the back with a walker threw out the first bid.

My fingers dug into my palms as paddles flew in the air. The auction bid hit one million dollars, and nobody slowed down. The longer they kept bidding, the more uncomfortable I felt. All I wanted was to run off stage and drink a tall scotch. But when the angelic voice came from a table in the back right corner rang through the air and said, “Two million dollars,” a couple of women huffed up front. The auctioneer called out a few more numbers before he concluded my auction. I turned and left the stage. Excitement ran through me as I thought about the woman in the silver dress.

The bottle of scotch Brock handed me before the auction sat on the counter in the dressing room. I twisted the top and poured myself a couple of fingers. The rules and how the date would work were in a stack of papers next to the bottle. When I first arrived, I had cared little about when I would go on a date. Now I couldn’t wait to meet the sexy vixen in person. The packet was thick, but I flipped to the last page, where it detailed the date. I’d only made it to the second line when a faint knock sounded against the dressing room door. An older woman walked in and handed me the note. When I grabbed the small post-it, the woman turned and left, leaving me alone with the message.

Not redeeming date.

—Rachelle Carlton.

There had to be a rule in the book about backing out because I planned to go on this date. The sweet woman might think I wouldn’t hunt her down, but she didn’t know who I was. A challenge had never been something I backed away from, and I didn’t plan to start now.

I needed to formulate a plan for getting the pretty little thing to honor our date. When the door to my dressing room swung open, Brock McKenzie and Alex Ross walked in. Brock grabbed the bottle off the counter and poured two glasses. “Already hitting the bottle. You got lucky with Rachelle.”

I took a sip of the dark liquid in my glass to distract myself from the fact she rejected me.

“I’ve come to these events for years, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Rachelle Carlton bid on a single person,” Alex said as he dropped in the chair next to the small gray couch. Brock leaned back against the wall near the exit. The idea she didn’t do this all the time made me even more perplexed on why she would pull out.

I held up the note. “According to this. Our date is not required. Her words, not mine.”

Alex leaned to the side and snatched the note out of my hand. “Yea, per the guidelines of the auction, she can’t do that,” Alex grunted. “The first year my mom talked me into the auction, a pleasant woman bought me, but I was working so much I wanted to get out of the date. So I tried to pay my way out or find her a different person. Neither worked. Per the guidelines, if the date doesn’t happen, they can’t accept the funds. The Carlton family puts on this event. Rachelle’s mother has fairy tale ideas for the people who win. I think Martha and her friends have a running poll of the matches they make which turn into a marriage. Don’t get me wrong, it’s worked a few times over the years, but not very often. No way can I foresee her mother allowing this.”

I snatched the note back and tucked the small yellow piece of paper in my pocket. The damn woman drew me to her like a moth to blue light. All the note was to me was a challenge flag, and I planned to accept the challenge. “Any chance she would allow the rules to bend for her daughter?”

Brock tapped his fingers on the side of his glass. “Rachelle’s just had a baby a couple of months ago. Her dad hired us for some research work on a hospital he bought. Our first meeting, he had me dig deep into a few of the doctors. A couple of the doctors at the hospital had complaint lists a mile long.”

“Why is she bidding on someone while she’s in a relationship with someone else?” The words came out immediately.

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