Page 6 of The Celebrity Bidder

Then Bruce stands, oozing confidence. “One thousand dollars.”

The crowd murmurs. He’s just raised the price by several hundred dollars, no doubt expecting to end the bidding.

I swallow hard, pulse racing. I quickly start to pray.Please God, don’t let Bruce win. Please, please, please, please, please…

A woman near the back raises her paddle. She’s tall, dressed in a chic black suit, and her hair is pulled into a precise bun that screams assistant-to-someone-important.

“Five thousand,” she says coolly.

Heads turn. Whispers ripple.

Bruce’s smile falters.

“Six,” he bites out, jaw tight.

“Ten thousand,” the woman replies without blinking.

The roomgasps. People are sitting forward now, necks craning.

I’m frozen. Whoisshe? And why is she bidding onme?

Not that I mind. Honestly, I’d chooseanyoneover Bruce. In a heartbeat. Even this mystery woman. I may not swing that way, but at least she never cheated on me with someone who called me “sweetie” while filing invoices.

Bruce adjusts his cuffs like he’s trying to play it cool, but I can tell he’s iriritated. “Eleven.”

The woman lifts her paddle again. Her voice doesn’t rise, but the room still falls silent as she says, “Twenty thousand.”

Someone drops a glass. I hear Mrs. Cranford from the bakery whisper, “Well, I never!”

Bruce glares, but he doesn’t raise the bid. He just sits down, defeated and sulking.

The emcee looks stunned. “Uh—twenty thousand going once… going twice…soldto the lovely lady in the back!”

Applause breaks out, along with a hundred hushed conversations as I step off the stage, heart pounding harder than ever. Stacy meets me halfway, eyes wide and sparkling with gossip-fueled adrenaline.

“Whoisshe?” she breathes, glancing back at the woman, who calmly tucks her paddle under her arm and returns to her seat.

“I have no idea, but she just donated enough money to fix the transport van.”And she saved me from a date with Bruce.

Whoever she is, I owe her. Big time.

Chapter 5

Wylie

“Whothehellwereyou bidding against, a Fortune 500 exec?” I ask as soon as Nadine walks into my kitchen, her heels clicking against the hardwood.

She drops her designer purse onto the counter and grins at me. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Twenty thousand dollars,” I say, pouring her a cup of coffee. “For adate.”

“You haveplentyof money,” she shoots back, plucking the cup from my hand. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” I admit. “It’s probably the worthiest cause I’ve ever thrown cash at. And Bella’s worth every penny. I’m just...surprised. Small-town charity auctions don’t usually come with five-digit price tags. I can’t believe someone drove up the bidding that high.”

She leans against the counter, sipping her drink. “I’m afraid I’m to blame for that.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

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