Page 19 of The Deal with the Playboy

Nervousness bubbles in my chest. This is finally happening, I want to pinch myself. I can’t believe I’m going to walk through those doors and find a man to be my fake fiancé.

“Hi, Poppy. This is your first time here, so let’s go over some ground rules,” the lady says.

I nod as I bite my thumb nail. “O-okay.”

“Do not take pictures. This is a private party, and a lot of famous and wealthy people are here. Whatever you see or hear, you keep to yourself unless you see someone breaking the law.” She eyeballs the screen. “It looks like you have the six-month VIP package.”

I lean my elbow against the counter. “What is that, exactly?” I ask her.

“You get access to free trips around the world, and you come here anytime you want to get free food and drinks. Also, you get VIP access to the most exclusive clubs around the world. I’ll email you a list of everything the package includes.”

I get free food and drinks? I don’t care about the clubs. I’m going to be here every day. It will save me a lot of money on groceries.

She hands me a pack of paper, and I read and sign them quickly. She points to the French doors. “Go to the West Wing, that is where the ball will be.”

Once I open the door, my mouth drops to the ground at the décor. I always imagined what it would look like on the inside, but it doesn’t come close to what I see. Bright flowers everywhere, in a variety of colors. I glance up to find art painted on the ceilings. The smell of cigars and alcohol lingers in the air.

There is a group of men, wearing suits, speaking with a glass each in their hands.

I tap one of the guys on the shoulder and he looks at me, his pink lips forming a smile.

I can’t see his eyes because it’s covered in a mask, but his smile is to die for. His teeth are straight.

“Where is the West Wing?”

He points to the left, and I tell him thanks.

I walk slowly to the double doors and push them open. My mouth hits the floor again, this time at the marble floors and wooden walls. Four chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and a live band plays classical music. People are wearing expensive suits and dresses, as if they own the fashion world. All the men are millionaires or billionaires. This is a different type of wealth, and I’m used to being around wealthy people, but these people are in another league.

My anxiety is back at full force and I sit on a barstool, and the bartender, wearing all black, hands me a drinks menu.

“I’d like a glass of Château Cheval Blanc 1947.”

I haven’t had expensive wine in a long time.

The bartender slides my glass over, and I trace my finger around the rim before I sip it slowly. Tastes just as good as I remember. Strong and fruity.

I scan the crowd, on the lookout for a potential suitor. Nervousness settles in my belly as I watch a guy with dark hair and a muscular build stroll to the bar beside me. My heart flutters in my chest and my smile dies down when he walks right up to another woman who’s wearing a flowery mask.

What if I don’t find a suitor tonight? The thought makes any hope I had die. I might have to crawl back to my ex so I can get my mother’s approval. I don’t want to. And I know I won’t be happy about it, but I have realized that I would rather have my family than live alone and never talk to them ever again. Link might be the bottom of the barrel when it comes to personality and morals, but he’ll be my ticket to getting my family back. Now, I’m starting to regret calling off the wedding. Right now, I could be at my parents’ mansion and my mother would be offering me beauty tips, telling me all the stories about her youth before she had me. She was a lot nicer to me before I broke it off with Link, as long as I did what she said.

“Can you tell me where they’re hosting the auction?” I ask the bartender.

He points to the left. “It’s around the corner.”

I down the rest of my drink and head in the direction the bartender pointed out. I see a stage and people sitting in rows.

Nervousness bubbles up in my chest as I make my way backstage. Men and women stand in line, and I tap the girl in front of me on the shoulder. She turns around and smiles.

“Is this the line for the auction?”

“Yes,” she answers.

I hear the announcer speak through the mike, informing everyone about the rules and regulations of the auction.

“Have fun,” he adds.

And the crowd cheers. My heart jumps up in my chest as the bidding starts. The price range starts at three million and quickly rises to thirty million dollars. It’s shocking.

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