Page 107 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
The hand belonged to a woman.
Moving swiftly toward the windows, I walked along the rows of chairs, craning my neck to get a look at her.
“I have thirty-five million for the Inksy original entitledConfluence. Do I hear thirty-six? Thirty-six?”
When I reached bidder forty-seven’s row, she stood up and faced me.
Scarlett.
What was she doing here? And why was she throwing away her newly acquired fortune on my painting?
She shrugged, the tears in her eyes making them sparkle in the light of the chandeliers. “Inksy’s my favorite artist. Some things reallyareworth it. They’re worth everything you have.”
“Thirty-five million going once, going twice…”
Before the auctioneer could bring down his gavel and end the auction, Victoria spoke up.
“Actually, I’ve decided to pull that item. The auction didn’t meet my minimum reserve price.”
“Madam, you didn’tseta reserve price,” the auctioneer, who was about to lose a hefty chunk of commission, pointed out.
“Son, this ismypainting andmyhouse, and I’m setting a minimum reserve price right now—it’s priceless.” She looked around the room. “Can anyone beat that?”
The bewildered auctioneer shot a helpless glance toward me and Scarlett.
“Too rich for my blood,” I said, backing away with both hands raised.
“Me too. I’m out.” Scarlett put her hand over her heart with a dramatic sigh. “Thank God.”
There was laughter then applause throughout the audience.
To appease the auctioneer and the few disgruntled faces I saw—and to keep Victoria from being in legal breach—I made an announcement.
“I’ll substitute another original if you want to start the bidding over. How about if I recreate the one I painted on the Providence wall that washed away?”
Immediately the faces in the crowd turned back to the auctioneer, and the room was filled with a roar of excited chatter. He took advantage of the fervor.
“What am I bid for the new Inksy original?”
Scarlett kept her paddle carefully lowered as she excused herself and made her way to the end of the row.
When she reached me, I took her in my arms. “What happened? Decided it wasn’t so ‘decent’ after all?”
She stood on her tiptoes and whispered into my ear. “When it comes to Inksy, I decided I’mmuchmore interested in his ‘indecent’ work.”
My pants bulged with a very indecent reaction to that news.
“Let’s get out of here, Red.” I gave her my best smoldering look. “I’ve just had the strongest urge to do some finger-painting.”
EPILOGUE
SCARLETT
Three months later
You can’t really appreciate the meaning of the word “bliss” until you find yourself standing at the altar in a wedding dress in front of all your friends and family with the most handsome, most wonderful, most talented, and most loving groom imaginable.
Gray and I stood together in front of the flower-covered arch embedded in the stretch of green lawn between the beautiful deep-blue Atlantic Ocean and the four hundred wedding guests all trying their best not to cry as he spoke the wedding vows he’d written.
