Page 5 of The Blowout

Son of bitch. I didn’t like hearing that. Not that she’d gone out and had a life, but that I could have met this sweet angel before tonight. I could have been surrounded in her warmth and joy longer, instead of just learning of her tonight. I’d never questioned my dedication to my job, my company, until tonight. I can see clearly now that years of long nights and excessive travel have prevented me from finding my true purpose.

It’s her.

Setting aside my pride for a moment, I ask, “Is Kimmie her legal name?”

“Kimberley. Her sister calls her Kimmie and that’s where I picked it up from.” He must sense the seriousness of this topic in my voice because Eoin has dropped the jovial attitude.

“Do the search anyway. I want to know everything by the end of the night.”

“You got it.”

I hang up just as the lights dim and Tony takes his place at the podium. Not bothering to find my table, I stand at the back of the room, eagerly waiting for my next glimpse of Kim. I don’t think she knew what she was agreeing to when she easily swapped in for the auction. More the better for me.

It’s the perfect way to stay in her presence. Get more time with her. And make her fall for me like I have for her.

Chapter Four

Kimberley

I wishI could say that the third donut I ate out of nervousness was a mistake, but I never regret a donut. No, what I regretted was trusting my sister tonight. I regretted saying yes to this auction without asking what the hell the auction was about. Because my noninquisitive nature is now kicking me in the butt.

The auction isn’t for the dresses we’re wearing. Oooh no.

It’s for a date.Me!People are bidding for the chance to takemeon a date. It’s insanity! Those poor souls. I hope they were prepared to enjoy an awkward evening with me, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because that’s all I could afford at the moment. Added to that, I was nowhere as glamorous or stunning as the women around me. Sure, I was pretty and tonight my blowout was on-point, but I was a lemon bar among brownies—only someone with unique tastes would bid on me over these delicious morsels.

Great. I’ve officially lost my mind and am comparing myself to food.

Do I have time for another donut to calm my nerves?

“Do I hear one-fifty? One-fifty going once.”

“Two hundred!”

“Two hundred. Two hundred thousand going once. Twice. Sold!”

My eyes widen at the price the stunning woman in the gold dress went for. I can’t stop staring at her arms, they’re toned perfection.

“Gillian. You’re up next,” Jenna whispers to the side of me. I choke on my spit, stunned. No, that can’t be right. How did my turn come so quickly?

“Wait,” I whisper-hiss as Jenna prods me toward the end of the curtain. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this. I’m not wearing the right shoes. Maybe I should have a puppy too, you know? To help get the numbers up. Everyone loves a puppy!” I cry just before she shoves me onstage. I stagger, catching myself quickly. I squint in the bright lights.

“Everyone, welcome Gillian!” The emcee laughs over the mic. “Gillian is an avid painter, lover of all animals and is currently training for her first half-marathon.” Lies! Everything he just said about me/my sister is total bull. Everything but the animal bit. That’s true. But I swear on everything that is sugary I will shut this whole thing down if someone bids on me with the idea of taking me for a romantic jog. No lie.

I run for no one.

“The bidding will start at fifty thousand.”

Cheese and rice, they were being ambitious. My eyes almost bug out of my head at the notion of someone spending that much, let alone for a date with me. I see Jenna waving her hands frantically, motioning me to move. Trying my best to smile through my fear, I walk farther down the stage. My body is shaking and I can’t stop it. Putting a hand on my hip, I try my hardest to look nice when all I want to do is break down in tears.

“Fifty,” someone shouts, making me stumble. What the—

“Eighty!”

“One hundred thousand.”

The bidding starts to go wild. Numbers are being called out and I’m standing in the middle of the stage like a damn fool. I must be dreaming.

“One twenty,” a new voice calls out. Something about it sounds…familiar. I can’t focus on that right now. Turning clumsily, I walk back and stand beside the podium. At least here, I can kind of see the audience. I can’t make out any faces but I can see the clumps of tables and shadowed figures standing at the back of the room. When the voice that sent shivers down my spine calls out again, my attention goes to that part of the room. There’s a dark silhouette at the far end of the room; his stance is strong and intimidating. I can see his arms cross over his chest.

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