Page 20 of Bid For Me

I pay again, grab my bags and exit the store, glad that I was able to get an appointment on such short notice, and head backto the waiting car. I guess the Sterling-Knight family name still carries some hefty weight. That, and the threat of buying out the competition.

In the back of the car, my phone rings and I grimace when I see my father’s name on the screen.

“Hello, Father,” I say, answering the call and bringing the phone up to my ear.

“Don’thello fatherme!” He yells down the line, clearly seething. “What the fuck have you managed to spend over three million pounds on in under twenty four hours, son?”

I grimace.

“Father,” I say, trying to keep my tone calm, “I didn’t spend that much in the grand scheme of things. I bought an engagement ring and a few other items, but I’m sure you’ll understand that these things can’t be cheap given the circumstances.”

“Circumstances? What circumstances?” He growls, his anger still apparent. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. Have you actually found a woman to give an engagement ring to or are you planning on pawning it off for cash when I cut you off?”

“I have.”

“Where did you get the ring?”

“Harry Winston.”

“Harry Win – Harry Winston? Are you fucking kidding me? The heir to the Sterling-Knight diamond fortune should only propose with a Sterling-Knight diamond! Fix this, Sebastian.”

As he ends the call, my mind is racing. To be fair, that went about as well as it could have. But I have to figure out a way to cover my tracks and not let my father find out about my deal with Elle. There’s no way I can go through with this engagement scam without my father’s meddling involvement, but I have to make this work. He can’t know this isn’t real. Like Elle said, itneeds to be believable. Elle’s trust and safety are on the line, and so is my reputation.

I plan the perfect date. The perfect engagement. Everything is going to go off without a hitch. I text Elle to tell her to be ready for seven, not to be a dick, but because it’s going to take around ninety minutes to get to our destination and I didn’t want to begin too late. No one wants to eat at ten o’clock at night. Well, no one outside of continental Europe anyway.

She texts me her address and I pass it on to my driver.

The car pulls up outside her flat, and I nod to my driver to wait. I step out and make my way up to her door, taking a deep breath before knocking. Elle opens the door, looking stunning in a gorgeous black and cream dress that hangs off her shoulders with a bow and it moulds to her curves in a way which makes my mouth water. She smiles when she sees me, a dainty pearl necklace flashing around her neck in the outside light, and there’s a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as if she’s trying to figure out what I have planned.

“Bastian, you clean up nice,” she quips, stepping out and locking her door behind her. I notice that depending on her mood, she calls me by different names. Currently I’m in her good books, hence calling me Bastian. Things can only get better if she calls me Bas. I know I’m in trouble when she full-names me.

“You look beautiful, Elle, stunning,” I reply, offering her my arm. She takes it, and we make our way down to the waiting car. As we settle inside, I catch her stealing glances at the bags from Harry Winston resting on the seat next to us.

“What’s all this?” she asks, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

I chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just a little surprise for you, for later,” I say cryptically, hoping she won’t press further.

Elle raises an eyebrow but lets it go, choosing instead to enjoy the ride in silence. The tension between us is palpable, a mixture of nerves and excitement swirling in the air. When we finally arrive at our destination, Elle’s eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the private jet sitting on the airstrip.

“Really?” she chuckles, turning to me with a shake of her head. “Your father’s jet?”

“The company jet, I think you’ll find.”

“That’s owned by your father.”

“For now.”

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

“How long will it take?”

“Around ninety minutes, give or take.”

She nods absentmindedly, her brain whirling to try to calculate where we could be going based on the flight time, and I smile. She was never one for letting things go when we were younger. I remember her hounding her brother and I for details of our first crushes until we gave in and told her. Elle’s always been able to wrap me around her little finger – she just doesn’t know it.

“This isn’t the Gulfstream. Did your father…company, upgrade?”

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