Page 46 of Deeply Examined

“It was so funny,” says Parker.

“It was a mess,” interjects West. “I was carrying a bunch of old reports to medical records, and they scattered all over the place.”

“I helped you pick them up,” Parker reminds him.

Charmed by the story, I clasp my hands to my chest and gush, “Aww! It was a meet cute! You guys had an actual meet cute!”

Parker wrinkles his brow and asks, “What’s a meet cute?”

West answers, “It’s when the characters in a romance novel first meet in a cute way.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Parker lifts his brows at West, incredulous.

“Never mind,” mumbles West. I swear he’s blushing. Quickly, he changes the topic. “I’ve got to get going.” West warns Parker, “Remember what I said. I don’t want to unmask all your secrets.” He lowers his eyebrows threateningly, and something unspoken passes between them.

Now it’s Parker rolling his eyes. “As if. Just go already. I told you, Jessica’s my bestie. She’s like a little sister to me.” He sidles closer and throws an arm around my shoulder.

West’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he doesn’t say anything. He just turns to me and sends me a questioning look. It’s an unspoken,Are you going to be okay?

I smile up at him. “Go raise some money for a good cause.”

Once West is gone, Parker proves that he takes his role as my caretaker seriously. He chats to me and carefully includes me in every conversation. I’m grateful for his attentiveness. I might be intimidated in this grand room surrounded by people I don’t know, but Parker is easy to talk to. Soon he’s got me cracking up with his silly jokes and sarcastic comments.

In the background the auction begins, with the white-haired man from earlier calling out the bidding. I can’t tell if he’s a real auctioneer or one of the physicians who’s been trained for the role. Most of the early bidding is on smaller things, such as gift certificates to a local restaurant, golf lessons, or a day at the spa.

We’re finished with dinner and working on dessert by the time that West takes the stage. He swaggers up there, looking cool and confident. If he really wanted to sell himself, he’d smile, but he doesn’t, just looks out over the crowd almost as if he’s bored. When his eyes meet mine, they hold for a second before moving on.

“Who wants a dinner date with this handsome man, Dr. Adam West? Shall we start the bidding at $1,000?” the auctioneer asks.

Immediately, a black-haired woman two tables over raises her hand. I lean around Parker to check out my competition. The woman must love the color purple because her pantsuit is made out of a purplish fabric. Her shoes and nails are the same color. “$3,000,” she bids.

Other hands are raised in rapid succession, all by other women in the crowd. Soon it’s at $10,000 for a dinner date with West. As the price goes higher, more and more people drop out from the bidding.

It’s down to the purple-loving lady and a younger blonde woman who sits over by the bathrooms.

“$10,000,” the auctioneer repeats for a second time.

“$15,000,” says the purple lady, her attention fixed on West with something like hunger.

“That’s Marsha Stussman,” Parker tells me in a whisper. “The hospital CEO.”

Oh, so that’s the administrator West was worried about. I’m so busy looking her over that I almost miss the auctioneer as he repeats, “$15,000. Going once. Going twice…”

West clears his throat loudly, and my head snaps his way. He’s pointedly staring at me with lifted eyebrows.

Shit!

I raise my hand like one of my students when they have to use the restroom. “Wait! I’ll pay 20. $20,000.”

The room hushes, and everyone looks my way. Maybe I should have offered $16,000 before jumping to $20,000, but heck, I haven’t done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Even the auctioneer is befuddled. He takes his glasses off and wipes them before replacing them and peering at me. “$20,000?”

I nod yes, holding my head high. Let everyone be surprised. The truth is, I think West is worth the money. Plus, it’s not coming out of my pocket. Didn’t West say to spend as much as I need?

“$20,000,” I confirm, swallowing hard.

The crowd gasps when Mrs. Stussman follows up by bidding $23,000. She stares at me when she says it, smiling gleefully.

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