Page 5 of Playing for Keeps
I laugh too before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. Sighing, I turn off the TV and drag myself off the sofa. I really can’t be bothered, but I know Ash would do the same for me, and maybe she’s right. Maybe I will have fun.
It’s over an hour before I finally leave Hope Creek. I’m not going to make it to Phoenix, change into my dress, and be at the auction by seven. I could’ve worn the dress from home, but driving all that way in a floor-length ballgown probably isn’t the best idea.
Realizing I don’t have Wyatt’s number, I pull over and quickly text Ash, asking her to send it. I’m guessing the event is packed, and I’ll need a way to find him once I arrive.
Luckily, traffic is on my side, and about thirty minutes from Phoenix, I stop at a rest area to change. I could’ve waited until I got to the hotel, but walking into one of the swankiest places in the city in yoga pants and a hoodie? Probably not the best look.
By the time I step out of the rest stop bathroom, I catch a few curious stares, but I don’t care. I love this dress. It fits like it was made for me, and Ash was right; it’s perfect for tonight.
Half an hour later, I’m pulling up outside the Fairmont Hotel. A valet approaches as I kill the engine, and I hand over my keys, my eyes drawn to the grand entrance. Ash wasn’t kidding; this place is stunning. I’m suddenly grateful I took the time to get dressed up.
Clutching my purse a little tighter, I step inside. My nerves intensify as I take in the opulent interior, with its vaulted ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and floral arrangements that look like something out of a magazine. I head straight to the reception desk.
“Hi,” I say to the smiling blonde behind the counter.
“Good evening! Your dress is gorgeous,” she says warmly. “How can I help you?”
My cheeks flush. “Thank you. I’m here for the charity auction, but I’m not sure where to go.”
“It’s in the Hampton Suite. Just through those doors down the hall.” She points to a set of elegant double doors. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks,” I say, my pace quickening.
I dig my phone out of my purse. 7:28. I’m late. Hopefully not too late. My stomach tightens when I see that Ash never replied. I don’t have Wyatt’s number. I hope I can find him.
I push open the doors and freeze. Wyatt’s standing on the stage, a spotlight casting him in a golden light.
I’m just in time.
“Twelve thousand dollars, going once,” the auctioneer calls out. “Going twice–”
“Fifteen thousand dollars!” I call out, my voice cutting through the buzz of the room. A ripple of gasps follows, andheads turn at the nearby tables, eyes scanning to see who placed the bid.
My gaze locks on Wyatt standing under the blinding stage lights. From this far back, there’s no way he can see me, but I see him. And I hope he knows it’s me.
"Fifteen thousand!" the auctioneer exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement. She glances toward a table near the stage. “Would you like to make it sixteen?” she asks someone seated there.
I can’t see their reply, but when the auctioneer presses on, I assume they’ve backed down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, fifteen thousand dollars, going once... going twice... sold to the lady in the back!” she announces brightly. “Come on up and claim your prize!”
A flush creeps up my cheeks. I hadn’t expected to be called up, but with every eye in the room on me, I don’t have much of a choice. Dragging in a breath, I cross the room toward the stage, silently praying I don’t trip in the absurdly high heels I’m suddenly regretting.
I keep my head down as I climb the steps, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. When I finally lift my gaze, my eyes lock with Wyatt’s, and the surprise on his face is unmistakable. Ash promised me he knew I was coming, but by the look he’s giving me, she lied. She totally set me up. And I’m willing to bet it has everything to do with the confession I made months ago about my teenage crush on him. I’m going to strangle her the next time I see her.
I offer Wyatt a small, sheepish smile as I approach. After a beat, he returns it with one of his own. Damn, he looks good in a tux. I’ve never seen him this dressed up before, and he wears it well.
“What are you doing here?” he murmurs, dipping his head to whisper in my ear.
“It’s a long story,” I whisper back.
“You look incredible, Ivy.”
Warmth rushes to my cheeks, and I quickly lower my gaze, almost relieved when the auctioneer turns her attention to me.
“Welcome to the stage,” the auctioneer says brightly. “What’s your name?”
“Ivy,” I reply, my voice soft and my cheeks burning.
