Page 10 of If The Shoe Fits

Cade

The auction kicked off with an eyesore of a Ming vase, just as Cade made it to the Harris mansion. He'd arrived late enough to not have to suffer through too much nonsense, then. After publicly spending a suitable amount, he'd be free to excuse himself fast enough. He still wanted to meet Slade if he could, but he wouldn't have to stay long.

The house was suitably intimidating, with its high walls and sculpted ceiling, but Cade had to admit it wasn't nearly as ostentatious as he would have expected. The Harrises might be new money, but they knew better than to flaunt it. He liked the simple—if exorbitant—decor of the open rooms on the ground floor. The kitchen was efficient, the music room, simple, with a grand piano dominating the space, and two comfortable sofas nestled against the walls. The art hung on the walls were modern and uplifting, perhaps a little more sensual that was suitable. They hadn't purchased a Norman Rockwell original, or anything so cliche.He approved.

His eye twitched when he walked in and recognized most of the crowd at first glance. He liked to avoid all of these people.

"Cade, son! How's the family?"

"Arnold. I'd wager you saw my father more recently than I did."

"He'd better be at tee time tomorrow. He trounced us all last week."

Golf. Cade laughed, as though he wasn't considering gouging his eyes out just to get out of the tiresome conversation. He internally cursed James for making him attend tonight's event. His friend knew he couldn't stand this crowd. Cade knew how to behave in society; he'd been attending gatherings such as this one since the moment he could walk, but since getting his hands on his trust fund, his sole purpose in life had been attending as few benefits are possible.

After selling a Klimt, a tiara boasting a fist-size sapphire and raindrop diamonds that would have made Richelle drool, and a weekend at the Kings' island down in the Caribbean, the auctioneer offered a fully custom Bugatti. Cade lifted his paddle. He wasn't one for such status symbols, but he didn't doubt James would find a way to make use of a new car. He had to bid on something, anyway. He lost to a new-money guy, unwilling to go over ten million for a car, pretty as it was. He knew James would have kept going, unwilling to ever lose anything, but Cade was considerably more practical. The next item was an outfit that Marilyn Monroe had worn to one event or another. Cade couldn't bring himself to bid, although he could have pawned it off on his sister. He was going to end up going home without anything, if things continued. No matter, he could still write a blank check. As long as the amount was high enough, their company would be talked about.

"Cade Lawson, am I right?"

Cade turned to face a stranger he had no issue recognizing. William Slade, accompanied by his luscious, murderous wife. The woman had killed two of Slade's competitors with her bare hands—in self-defense, according to the witness. Seeing her in person, Cade had no idea how such a small, dainty female had managed to garner such a reputation.

"William Slade," Cade countered, offering his hand, after inclining his head to the pretty wife.

"Liam, please. It's a rare pleasure. I don't think I've ever seen you anywhere other than on the cover of a tech magazine."

Cade managed a half smile. "I keep busy. My sister accuses me of being allergic to fun."

The man laughed good humoredly. "Well, I wouldn't call this fun, exactly. But I do like Harris, and everything he's trying to achieve for the world."

"His wife is a delight, too," Liam's woman added. "I love her books."

Cade knew the woman wrote, but he had no idea what any of her books were about. When he had time to read, he caught up with his favorite thriller and science-fiction authors.

"I can't say I've read any of them, yet, but Cassie's lovely." He'd only seen her once or twice in passing, but she'd seemed lively and charming enough. Besides, there wasn't anything else to say about socialites these days. They were all perfectly lovely. Beautiful, worldly, agreeable to talk to, and positively boring.

"Finally, our hostess and a few of our charming ladies will be auctioning their first dance. I present to you Cassandra Harris."

Speak of the devil. Wrapped in a red dress, the blonde advanced on the dais with all the aplomb of a catwalk model. Someone started to clap, and they all joined politely. Encouraged, Cassie spun on her heels, and grinned, waving her hand.

"We'll start at ten thousand. Ten thousand to Mr. Harris. Do I hear fifteen? Fifteen thousand to Mr. Slade."

Cade glanced at Liam, who grinned. "Don't mind me. I enjoy ruffling Carter's feathers."

He wasn't the only one. Several others bid, higher and higher. In no time, Cassie's first dance was worth two hundred thousand dollars. Undeterred, Slade raised his paddle again.

Carter Harris lifted his, and yelled, "One million!"

The rest of the room erupted in claps, and chuckles. "Aren't you getting it for free, these days?" Liam called back. "Let the rest of us enjoy your wife, for once."

"Only if you're willing to share yours, fucker," Carter shot back.

Liam seemed to find that joke far less funny.

"One million going once. Going twice…"

"One million, one hundred thousand, dammit."

Carter shot Liam the middle finger, but let him win Cassie's dance, to the cheers of the crowd.

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