“What is?” She stepped back and checked him over.
“Oh, nothin’. Some things ain’t meant to be, I guess. Now, what do you need me to do?”
“Mix. Or mingle. It’s up to you.”
His eyes lit up. “I can both mixandmingle, young lady.”
She laughed. “Thank you for coming, Senior.”
“I wouldn’t miss somethin’ this fancy for the world. I’m sure the evenin’ will be very interestin’. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some schmoozin’ to do. I saw plenty of eligible-lookin’ ladies coming through them doors, and I aim to plead my case.” He winked at her and walked away.
She adjusted one of the off-shoulder sleeves of her shimmery eggplant, flared-skirt dress and walked from the back of the stage. She shouldn’t be upset with Rusty. She’d pushed him hard to come to this and then let him down when itcame to something important to him. All she could do was try to have a good—no, decent—time tonight.
She watched the crowd in front of her. Usually she’d be out there networking, trying to meet new clients and talk to existing ones. She even recognized a few among the guests. Tonight would be the perfect time to fix some of the damage done to her career and maybe find out why it had happened.
She couldn’t bring herself to do either. She’d always been a social butterfly, but right now she wanted to find a cocoon somewhere and hide out tonight. She lingered around the side of the stage, hoping no one noticed her before she had to make an appearance.
It seemed like an eternity until Cammi finally took the podium, instructing everyone to take their seats at the round tables and for the bachelors to head to the back of the stage. Harper searched for Senior and caught his eye before he headed for the front. He gave her a jaunty nod and practically skipped off, waving hi to various ladies who called out his name. She was impressed. When the man schmoozed, he schmoozed.
Harper looked for an empty place to sit—not an easy thing to do since the gala was sold out. All she could find was a table near the front with three empty seats. She stopped next to an elderly woman who looked to be Senior’s age. “Hi,” she said. “Is anyone sitting here?”
“I was saving those for my friends. I guess they decided not to show up.” The woman shrugged her small shoulders. “Chickens.”
She smiled and sat down. “Harper Wilson.”
“I’m Hazel. Nice to meet you.”
Cammi tapped on the top of the microphone. A high-pitched squeal sounded in the room. “In a few minutes we will be starting the, you know, auction,” she said, then giggled as if what she said was hysterical. “Please pick up the programs at your table for more information on tonight’s eligible bachelors. On the back of each brochure is a number that you’ll use for bidding. So, like, good luck!” One more giggle and she put the microphone back on the stand.
Harper didn’t look at the brochure. She wasn’t interested in bidding on anyone, and she sure didn’t want to see Rusty’s photo smiling at her. “Any of the bachelors strike your fancy?” she asked Hazel. This lady would be perfect for Senior.
“Oh yes,” Hazel said, her slightly trembling voice filled with excitement. “This one right here.”
Harper looked down and saw the tip of Hazel’s wrinkled index finger touching the chin of the young man she’d met before the gala. She grinned. Was that guy in for a surprise. “Well, good luck, then. I hope you win.”
“Me too.” Hazel lowered her voice. “Tonight has already been so much fun. I’m actually glad my friends decided not to come. They can be such old party poopers sometimes. I say you’re as young as you want to be.” She tapped her temple. “In here I’m twenty-five!”
Cammi returned to the mike. “Now to introduce, like, the emcee for tonight’s auction. My amazing husband—Brooks. Sorry, ladies, he’s taken!” Cammi flashed her wedding ring, then stepped aside as Brooks appeared from behind the curtain.
“What an odd young woman,” Hazel commented.
Everyone clapped as Brooks gave the audience a huge smile that would rival the cheesiest game show host.
“All right, bidders, here are the rules for tonight’s auction.”
Harper tuned him out as he explained how bidding worked. A flute of bubbly champagne sat in front of her, along with a small plate of assorted canapes. She stared at a round, thin cracker laden with cream cheese, a tiny bit of smoked salmon, and a sprinkle of dill.
“Thank God I found you.”
Harper jumped as Jack slipped into the seat beside her. Oh no. “What are you doing here?” she growled.
“My company is one of the gala sponsors this year.” He leaned closer to her. “Brielle is here.”
“What? Why?”
“You know she doesn’t miss a chance to network.”
That was true. “We talked, by the way,” Harper said, forgetting to whisper. “She said she dumped you and kicked you out of the house.”
