Page 7 of Love Resurrected
“You are bid on by attendees, and the highest bidder wins.”
“And I’m the prize?”
“Yes, but only for a day, or maybe a date and a dance. I don’t remember exactly. But it’s not a big deal. In the past it’s been women who need a hot handyman.”
“I have to do work?”
“Usually, without a shirt on,” Chance adds.
I rub the back of my neck and look at Remi, eyebrows raised.
“Come on, calendar boy, you are no stranger to posing as eye candy,” she teases, referring to the times I’ve taken part in the SSFD Annual Calendar. Shirtless. And once, without pants.
I shrug in response and she claps her hands. “Yay!”
“My shrugging is not me saying yes.”
“Close enough,” she says. “I’ll take it. I can’t wait to tell Tenley we’ve got another bachelor.” She stands and heads for the house.
“Remi, I haven’t said yes,” I say after her.
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves a hand in the air dismissively.
“And, who’s Tenley?”
“Sadie’s friend. She’s coordinating the whole thing,” she calls back as she disappears into the house.
I look to Chance. He shrugs and take a long pull on his beer.
“As long as we’re clear, I haven’t said yes,” I say aloud, hoping whoever needs to hear it, does.
2
Tenley
If you had told me two years ago that on the eve of my thirty-fifth birthday, I would be planning the town’s law enforcement bachelor auction, I would have laughed at you. Laughed at you and said, “Fuck that. I’ll be on my way to a long weekend in Vegas with my girls.”
Except that my girls are all busy having or raising babies. Sadie, my bestie, is eight months pregnant with her first baby and furiously nesting. The other two girls we hang with, Remi and Lexie, are their own kind of busy. Remi has four-year-old triplets, so she’s always on the go. Lexie is pregnant with her second baby.
Which leaves me here, at nine o’clock on a Friday night, finishing the auction setup at the town’s largest banquet hall. Alone. Sadie was going to help me, but some baby store was having a liquidation sale, and she and Lexie planned to divide and conquer.
I’m sad to not experience more of the pregnancy thing with Sadie. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and back then, we’d always said we would get married and have babies at the same time so our babies would grow up to either be best friends or married.
That was before my mom left my dad and me. And I realized a happily ever after is not in my story. Itisin Sadie’s, however. So, she is experiencing hers and is happy as can be. And I am . . . well, shit, I’m arranging tablecloths and centerpieces so other women can bid on the possibility of an HEA with an eligible bachelor.
I put my earbuds in and turn the music back on. I make playlists based on the mood I’m in or want to be in. For instance, right now I want to forget about the fact that tomorrow is my birthday, that I’m here alone working for free, and that all my friends have a life. So, I’m listening to my Pump It Up list, where every song on it is guaranteed to make me happy and want to sing and dance. Even if none of the songs really go together.
I finish three more tables, when I suddenly feel I’m not alone. I turn and look, but there’s no one else in the room with me. The doors are all locked; I double-checked already. Deciding it must be my imagination, I shake it off and continue setting up tables. A noise in the background, one not belonging to the song, makes me stop. I pause the music to listen but hear nothing.
So, I keep going.
It happens again.
I pause the music and wait. Then I hear the faint sound of knocking. Pounding, actually, on the back door. I’m not expecting anyone, so I’m reluctant to open the door.
As I near the originating point of the sound, I hear yelling along with it.
“I know you’re in there. Would you just open the goddamn door?”
