Page 2 of Highest Bidder

“Trust me on this.”

“Of course I trust you. You know these men, I don’t. We should have a signal for who you approve of and who you don’t. Like you scratch your chin if they’re a nay, and tug on your ear if they’re a yay.”

She laughed. “Or, how about I just subtly shake my head yes or no?”

I grinned. “That works, too.”

The bartender appeared with our glasses of bubbly and winked at Kit before he put them down, like he was letting her know he knew who she was.

We lifted the flutes in a toast.

“To new adventures,” I said with a confident smile, although it felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies had taken flight in my stomach as I thought about what those adventures tonight might entail.

“To new adventures,” Kit echoed then clinked her glass against mine.

“So, what’s this auction Grayson was talking about?” I asked before taking a sip of champagne.

My friend had been in the middle of a drink and choked when my question came out, making her pat her chest. After she recovered, she murmured, “Baby steps, sweetie. We’re starting you on the bunny slopes tonight. An auction is the equivalent of a black-diamond run.”

****

Jeff

I’d almost skipped tonight’s party, but the moment I saw her from across the room, I congratulated myself for deciding to come after all. She looked like an angel in her white dress with sequins glinting under the lights. Half her face was hidden by a mask, and I couldn’t help but want to get closer.

Then I saw DeLuca approach her at the bar, at least, I was pretty sure it was Grayson, and decided to hang back and observe from the other end. Hopefully I hadn’t missed my shot by moving too slowly.

I watched her companion smile and shake her head, then a minute later, DeLuca nodded and walked off.

That’s right. Move along.

She’smyangel.

Hopefully.

At least for tonight.

The vision in white was laughing with her friend, champagne glass in hand, head tilted back as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

She caught me watching her, and I raised my glass in a silent toast. She lifted hers in return, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. That was all the invitation I needed to make my way over. I stepped away from the bar and weaved through the crowd, never taking my eyes off her.

Her blonde hair caught the light like a halo as she laughed at something her friend said. She tucked it behind her ear while her lips tugged into a smile that looked practiced. Every move she made felt deliberate, like she knew eyes were on her and she was performing. Maybe for me, and I didn’t mind one bit.

Her eyes found mine again, and I didn’t hesitate to step in closer.

She turned to face me, and her smile faltered, barely, but I caught it. She didn’t seem afraid. Hesitant, maybe, but not scared. Maybe she was deciding how much trouble I was.

Smart girl.

But she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin when she looked me in the eye, and I knew she had some sass.

Just my type. Those were more fun to break.

I let my gaze drop to the pink ribbon on her left wrist and lightly brushed my thumb over it. “Pink ribbon,” I murmured, eyes locked on hers. “Curious and open. I like that.”

Then I noticed the hand holding her champagne flute, more specifically, the phoenix inked on her right wrist. “Butthishasmecurious,” I murmured, taking her glass and setting it on the bar so I could lift her hand and press a soft kiss to the tattoo. “I’d love to know the story behind it.”

She didn’t pull away, which I took as a good sign, even as she replied, “That’s a conversation for another time.”

---