Page 129 of Mr. Picture Perfect
Seats all around me creaked as people turned to face me.
Surprised gasps.
Questioning murmurs.
Confusion.
Then there was a third spotlight—and it struck me like a big white lightning bolt, causing my face to twist and grimace against it, for a second making me look as if I just ate a lemon whole.
I think that about brings us up to present time.
Me, standing on a chair.
With a spotlight glaring on me like the sun at high noon and rendering me blind.
And a ton of faces and eyes and bodies turned toward me in various states of jaw dropping, wrinkled foreheads, and confusion.
It’s like my audition all over again.
A desperate attempt at being brave, defying my fear.
On the tiniest stage imaginable: the seat of a chair.
Except there’s no friendly face of Tamika in the audience in front of me like there was at the audition, nor the theatre teacher Ms. Joy. Just a bunch of strangers. And a lot of faces that read quite clearly “who the hell are you?” and “what are you doing invading the true love that is clearing happening with Cole and this really hot guy with a sister whose name we don’t know yet is Mae?”
But my attention is on none of them.
It’s on Cole, who only now zeroes his eyes onto me.
Seeing me.
Becoming aware that I’m here.
Then I watch a smile of relief spread over his face.
It’s more than I deserve, but it makes my heart burst.
I’ve succeeded, I think to myself, amazed at the power I just proved that I have.I’ve saved Cole from his own nightmare.
The next thing I know, Frankie makes a performance out of my bid. “Sounds like we’ve got ourselves anewcontender! $1,367!” He gives the audience a funny look, bringing them in. “A bit of an odd number, but we’ll roll with it, right?”
“Uh, no we won’t,” argues Mae’s gorgeous brother. Is it weird that I call him that? I mean, I still don’t know his name, and it fits him annoyingly well. “That’s not even a correct bid.”
I gaze at him from across the pavilion. “Why not?”
He doesn’t acknowledge me in the least, facing Frankie. “Thisbozoshows up out of nowhere, puts in a bogus bid just to disrupt the auction, and we’re going to just ‘roll with it’?”
“I can assure you, it’s not bogus,” I speak up. “It’s my savings. All of it.” I peer down at my phone. “Well …mostof it.”
Indeed, I valued Cole at higher than any of my material needs.
Such as a vehicle to get around town.
Who even needs a car in a place like Spruce anyway, right?
“He doesn’t even have a bidding paddle!” points out my angry and gorgeous enemy.
TJ quickly slaps his own paddle into my palm. “He does now.”
