Page 6 of The Blowout

Then it hits me.

Charlie is bidding for me. Paying for a date.

Oh my God, does he have a crush on my sister?

A sick feeling swirls in my stomach. I don’t like the thought of Charlie liking my sister. Romantically. Or the other way around. Surely, if she had a crush on him she’d have told me, right? Oh no, am I jealous? I met the man for a handful of minutes, but I already have a teeny-tiny crush on him.

“SOLD!” the emcee roars into the microphone, announcing some absurd number that freezes me in place. The crowd gets louder and I can barely hear what’s said next. “Sold to our fearless leader, CVR! Splendid! Congrats Charles.”

The audience cheers and I give an awkward wave and smile as I walk backward off the stage. Thankful that that’s over but fearing what comes next.

Charlie has no idea what he’s won.

A hair stylist, donut monster who doesn’t really have her life together.

Gosh, this was a disaster. Running both hands through my hair and gripping the strands at the back of my neck, I look upward and ask for silent help.

“Oh my God, Gillian! You got the highest bid so far! This is crazy!” Jenna pops up out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me.

“I’m—I’m still stunned,” I respond, not able to reach her level of enthusiasm.

“I can imagine. And to be bid on by Charles, wow.” She sighs, lost in a daydream.

“Yeah.” I need to get out of here.

“Anyway,” Jenna continues, snapping out of her daze, “we already have all your information on file. We know where to find you for your date,” she says in a singsong voice, pointing her finger at me in a spiral. At any other time, Jenna and I would have really hit it off. She’s a character for sure. But I’m so lost in pretending to be my sister that I can’t even take pleasure in meeting a new friend. I’m too worried about the repercussions of tonight. “Oh, and here’s your purse. You can go enjoy the rest of your night now. Go get a drink and relax.”

“A drink. Yes. That’s what I need.” We’re both able to laugh at that.

Thanking Jenna for my purse and all her help during the bidding, I make my way back to the main floor, unsure of myself. Just before I walk through the curtains an idea hits me. I’m such an idiot. Pulling my phone from my clutch, I dial my sister, needing to talk to her desperately. I need to know what I’m supposed to do now. And find out if she and Charlie have anything going on that I should know about. Crap, I really hope not.

The phone rings a couple times before the line picks up. Instantly I know my sister isn’t back at my apartment resting. There’s a weird chopping sound in the background and the howling of wind. What the heck?

“Gillian,” I whisper-hiss into the phone. I may kill her the next time I see her. “Gillian.”

“Kimmie. I can’t talk now.”

“Well, you better get talking, missy. I’m in a real disaster of a situation here.”

“Look, Kimmie, there’s no good way to ask you this but can you keep the act up? I just need a little more time—” Her voice cuts out.

“More time? More time for what? Where are you, Gillian?” No response. Yanking the phone back from my ear, I see the line has gone dead. I’m not scared for Gillian’s safety. She seemed in okay spirits and I know she can look after herself. She is the more adventurous twin, after all. But I’m nervous about why she needs me to continue pretending to be her. Is she trying to lead someone off her trail? Crap, I had a feeling this little game we were playing would not end well.

Even more confused than I was before about what to do about Charlie, I shove my phone back into my clutch. Taking a deep breath, I leave the safe area of the backstage curtains and make my way to the closest bar.

When a cool glass of white wine is in my hand and I take that first gulp, the tension in my shoulders melts away. After this glass I should head home. Call it a night and prepare for what I had to do next to help my sister—if anything. God, that was a lot of to-dos for a Saturday where I had to go into the salon.

“What you pulled tonight was reckless and irresponsible,” a voice growls close to my ear.

Stunned, I choke on my next swallow. My nose burns with the singe of alcohol.

“What?” I squeak out, turning my body toward the man beside me so I can see who addressed me with such accusation. The hand holding my wine rests against the bar as I take in the tall, blond and very fit man glaring down at me. What kind of company did my sister work at where all the men looked like this? Gorgeous didn’t even come close to describing them all. What did I miss when she first told me years ago about her role? I really needed to pay better attention to the finer details.

“You heard me, Gillian. We can’t keep playing this game.”

“I’m not…are we….”

The man takes a long inhale, his eyes darting all over my face.

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