Page 5 of Sold to the Highest Bidder
'Loseit.'
Nazalie was being pushed to the wall now, and she had no choice but to push back if she wanted to survive. Even if she sold all her belongings – whatever little was left since her father took most of them away – she wouldn't even have anywhere near a quarter of the asking price. Nazalie turned on her laptop. While it booted up, she decided to take a shower. Nazalie's laptop was so old that it took about five minutes to boot up. It was a bit slower than others, but it still functioned well. It was a television; it wouldn't work until it's plugged in. It's not like she could afford another one. She would have to manage with it until she had enough money to make buying a new laptop a priority.
Nazalie always had to twist her hair before she slept, or it would be all tangled up when she woke up. The perks of having dark skin and curly hair. Silently, she twisted it while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. She had already taken off her clothes; she didn't have to worry about doing away with them after. Nazalie wondered if she was pretty enough for someone to actually bid on her. Katherine had told her several times that she was pretty, but she didn't believe it. Maybe it was because Katherine was effortlessly stunning and confident too. Her confidence always seemed to make her look even more beautiful.
Nazalie wished she had that amount of confidence. She knew she had a beautiful body, but she had never been the confident type. And it didn't help matters that her father left them. Her green eyes were a replica of her dad's. Nazalie finished twisting her curly hair in record time and stepped into the shower. She let the hot water cascade down her back. It felt like a calming massage like the water was slowly soothing her muscles and washing away all her problems. She was brought back to reality when she stepped out of the shower stall. Nazalie was reminded of what she had to do.
"One quick look," Nazalie muttered, trying to convince herself that she would browse the site quickly and then log off and move on with her life. Sighing, Nazalie put on an oversized T-shirt and sat in front of her laptop. It had finished booting up.
"Loseit.com," she mumbled as she typed.
The site was super private. As soon as Nazalie opened the site, options popped up for her. "Are you buying?" or "Are you selling?"
Nazalie clicked on selling. She was asked to send a picture of herself in a bikini set or panties and bra before she could even get approved.
Nazalie contemplated her next choice. Was she brave enough for this? What if it was a scam? What of it wasn’t a scam? A picture of the bakery flooded her mind and she knew what she had to do. She remembered a picture that Katherine took of her when they went to the beach together. She was wearing a green bikini, the color of her eyes. She uploaded the picture and got a notification that she had been approved. Her image was uploaded. Apart from the buyers, she was the only one that could view her profile. At the lower edge of the screen, she saw that bids start at 30, 000 US dollars.
No details were needed. Only the successful bidder would be given permission to message her. They would then discuss the date, time and place to meet.
Before she could change her mind, Nazalie quickly opened an account and uploaded her best picture. That was all there was to it. Suddenly, she shut her laptop and jumped on her bed. Nazalie screamed into the pillow, hitting and kicking the bed. She must have looked like a child throwing a tantrum. When she had calmed down, she spent the next three hours staring at the ceiling and wondering what she had done. All her friends told her that their first time wasn't that pleasant.
What was wrong with selling hers to someone that'd pay her good money? All she had to do was lie down and let him do whatever he wanted to. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. Earning thirty thousand from fifteen minutes of working seemed like a good deal. Still, a lot of questions were running through her mind. What if the bidder was a slimy old man? What if she got kidnapped? Was it worth it? She lay awake cursing herself out till the incessant creaking of the night crickets lulled her to sleep.
???
Joshua
The office was silent. It was past 10 pm, and everyone had gone home. Joshua was still in his office, looking over some investment accounts. He could postpone it till the next day, but that was not the kind of person he was. Even if he decided to go home, nothing or no one was waiting for him. His penthouse suite felt empty and his bed was even more frigid. It was the same thing every night. It was better to stay in the office and work his ass off.
The soft click of his office door closing caused him to lift his head up from the accounts he was reviewing.
"As I guessed, I knew you'd be here."
It was Jason. Jason was his partner and one of his oldest friends. No one would have ever guessed that they would get along. Joshua would never have believed if someone came from the future and told him that they would eventually end up being business partners. Jason was your typical rich kid, but unlike the others, he wasn't spoiled. They met in college; they were in the same class. Even though his parents were wealthy, Jason got in on a scholarship, like Joshua. They were both smart and had an affinity for business. So, when Jason suggested that they partner up, it was a welcome idea. They had been close friends ever since.
"What brings the great Jason to my humble office?" Joshua asked with a teasing smile.
"I guess I knew you'd be here working your arse off when you should be resting at home," Jason accused, pouring himself a glass of Bourbon from the cabinet at the far end of the room.
"And what made you think so?"
"I heard it through the grapevine."
"You mean Shane, right? I had to order him to leave with threats of firing him if he didn't."
"Good Ol' Shane," Jason said, mimicking a southern American accent. "It wasn't him that told me, anyway. I knew you'd be here."
He finished, taking a sip out of the Bourbon and squeezing his face. "That'll taste way better with some ice."
"Are you suddenly psychic or what? I could have been in my apartment."
"No, you wouldn't. I know you too well. And you're predictable, you never go out and have fun. It is always all work with you. You need to live a little."
"Whatever…" Joshua mumbled, stretching across the table to snatch the glass of Bourbon from Jason.
"Hey! You could have gone to get yours!" Jason protested, trying to take back the glass. Joshua had already downed it in one gulp.
"Tell me what you came for, Jason. As you can see, I have a lot of work to do."
