Page 116 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
Sweet relief washed over her. During the Battle of the Blogs, Hector and Bobby threw a twist into the last gala they’d attended by making a book discussion session with her an auction item. And Jordan wasn’t at all pleased when another guy started bidding.
“We’ve come a long way since then,” her husband said, wrapping his arm around her.
“Agreed! You’ve come a long way since yesterday. Bobby and I saw a picture of Georgie taken not too long ago. And let me tell you, itdoes notdo you any justice, sweetie. Even if you were going for nautical glam,” Hector said with a chuckle.
What did he mean bynautical glam?
She was about to ask when a woman in red glittery Western-wear teetered toward them on sky-high heels.
“Georgiana and Jordan! I’m so glad you’re here. I’m Muffy Bradford. Remember, we chatted over email a few months back. Come with me. We need to get you all squared away. There’s been a slight change in the order of events, and we’ve decided to jump right into the auction.”
Georgie shared a glance with her husband. “Okay. We’re ready to go.”
“We’ll catch up with you after the auction,” Jordan said to the CityBeat founders.
“And take good care of our fake baby,” she added as Hector, Bobby, and Faby entered the ballroom.
The middle-aged glitter cowgirl waved for them to follow her down a hallway that ran adjacent to the ballroom.
“How are your mother and Howard?” the woman asked from over her shoulder with a flip of her glossy hair.
Georgie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I think they’re doing well.”
Muffy opened a door and ushered them up a few steps to the area behind the stage.
“Do you expect them back soon?” she asked with another hair swish.
The lump in Georgie’s throat doubled in size.
“We’re not sure.”
“I see,” the woman replied with a crafty twist of her lips, then gestured toward the thick blue velvet curtains. “Wait here. They’ll introduce you, and then you’ll walk out on stage. And take this,” she said, swiping a folder off a nearby table. “It contains all the auction items.”
“So, we just read from it?” Jordan asked, accepting the folder, then glancing inside.
“Yes, and ad-lib a bit. All the ladies at the country club are enamored with you, Jordan. I’m sure you’ll be a big hit with the crowd. They love your blog.”
Georgie held the red sparkler’s gaze. “Jordan and I work together on the More Than Just a Number blog. It’s not only his blog. It’s our blog.”
She was not feeling this glossy crow, one bit.
A slight crease formed on Muffy’s Botox-smooth forehead.
“I guess I never noticed you, dear,” the woman said, then gobbled up her husband with one last thirsty look.
Georgie gave the woman a pinched grin. This Muffy character was one to be watched.
“She seems like a nice lady,” Jordan said offhand as the woman’s heels clickity-clacked down the hall.
Georgie crossed her arms. “That’s debatable.”
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, tapping the auction folder.
She glanced around the empty backstage area. Hopefully, someone running the show would check in with them.
“Do you think I have time to drink my juice?” she asked, sounding like a kindergartener, but not caring.
Shit got real when she ran low on pineapple.
