Page 11 of Eggnog and Edging
I catch myself checking over my shoulder again, looking for any recognizable vehicles, even as we pull into the club. If the driver wonders why I’m so nervous, she doesn’t say anything.
We don't seem to have been followed. I take a deep breath and clutch my backpack to my chest.
"What kind of place is this?" the driver asks as she navigates to the luxurious entry.
Not enough time to explain. "It's a club."
"What’s the vibe?" She sounds genuinely interested.
"Not sure. It’s my first time.” Right, because people go to clubs they know nothing about.
“I love clubbing. Looks like they have a decent turnout."
"Yeah.” I grab the door handle as she stops next to one of the doormen.
“Maybe I'll stop by after work."
What do I have to lose? “Tonight isn't open to the public."
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.
“Are you a celebrity or something?”
Not in the way she thinks. "They're doing an auction tonight."
"Oh!” She turns to face me. “The Christmas Cherry Auction?"
"You've heard of it?"
"Just a whisper or two. Wait… Are you one of the virgins?"
"I am." I’m surprised I say it with so much pride.
"You are so lucky. I want to do it next year. How do you get in?"
"You can apply on their website, then they do a selection process, and if you're selected, you receive an invitation in the mail."
"Thanks. I’ll check it out."
"Good luck. I've gotta go." I’m desperate to get inside the building.
Having allowed extra time just in case, I'm the first of my friends to arrive. I rush to the clothing rack and find my dress. So gorgeous. So real.
The door to the dressing room opens, and Bellamie and Jolene come rushing in.
"We made it!” Jolene squeals as she runs to hug me.
Laughter rushes out of me, releasing all of the tension I’d been storing over the last week.
We get to work doing hair and makeup, having arrived plenty early to be able to take our time and enjoy the process.
Bellamie pauses and grabs the goodie bags she put together for us. She's always so thoughtful to make sure we have anything we might need… even a matchbook-size sewing kit.
I’m glad she didn’t ditch the auction for the Krampus dude she hooked up with. The timing was so weird, along with the fact that he seems to want her to call him Krampus, to the point of not telling her his real name.
Whatever’s up with that won’t matter after tonight. I check my phone, shocked by how slowly time is passing. I’m kind of in a daze waiting for it to be real—to be securely purchased by my dream guys.
Jolene's phone rings, startling me. The look of panic isn’t comforting. “It’s my babysitter.”
