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The acoustics behind the black curtain emphasized the cheering of the women out front, causing difficulties when they tried to hear everything the emcee said. Four of the nearing principals gave Nate the thumbs-up as they pulled either side of the curtain. Salt-N-Pepa’s “What a Man” pumped through the man-size speakers to his left and his right. The single spotlight momentarily blinded him. He refused to take a step forward for fear he’d fall off the stage; instead he stood stock-still with his hands folded in front of him. For some reason, no movement at all caused a bigger ruckus.
“Clearly this man needs no introduction,” the emcee joked. “Coming from Berkeley Lakes, Georgia, in case you’ve been living with your head in the sand for the last eight months, this Latino lover is Southwood’s newest resident. Judging from the applause, there might not be any need for him to walk the stage.”
“Get out here and take it off!” a woman yelled.
Nate bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The voice belonged to Lexi.
“Hey, now, we’re not that kind of establishment,” said the emcee. “Can I start the bidding at one hundred?”
Nate bowed his head and gulped.
“Two hundred,” another woman shouted.
Before the emcee asked if he could get another fifty, another woman shouted out, “Three hundred.” Backstage, he’d heard the new dance instructor went for a thousand dollars. The dancer at least brought his skills to the table. What was he supposed to do with a woman for a week? The ladies around here understood his position; he was an uncle first.
“Four hundred.”
“Five hundred.”
White paddles with black numbers began to wave in the air, battling the brightness of the spotlight. Nate lifted his head, accepting the cool breeze.
“We have five hundred,” announced the emcee. “Wonder what we’d get if he took a few steps forward. Let’s see if one of Southwood’s newest members can walk that walk.”
On cue, Nate stepped forward. In the back of his mind he reminded himself of the good cause. He walked to the left of the stage and caught a glimpse of one of the pageant moms from Philly’s class and offered her a wink. The women in the distance all assumed the wink was for them and caused another cool breeze with their paddles.
“Seven hundred?”
“Eight hundred.”
Great. Now he was up in the dancer’s range. He moved to the right side of the stage and unbuttoned his jacket, driving up the price to a cool grand. When he tossed his jacket over his forearm and loosened his tie, he garnered more catcalls, whistles and a two-thousand dollar bid. Nate had watched enough of Philly’s pageants to understand how to work a crowd. He moved to the front and center of the stage.
“I’ve got two thousand. Do I hear a—” the emcee began.
“Twenty-two hundred.”
A bidding war began in four different directions of the downstairs dance floor. Heads bobbed from the left to the right like at a tennis match as the price went up with every wave of the paddle. Nate caught the voice of one woman, a mom from Philly’s pageant team. This same woman had pushed her hotel key card in his hand and whispered her child’s nap schedule. The other woman’s bidding came from the bar and Nate was pretty sure it was Brittany. She came from money, plenty of it. Did he need to guess what she wanted from him for a week? The bidding between the two women slowed down as the price went to five thousand dollars. A lot of oohs and aahs filled the room. Their shouts to outbid each other were crisp and angry.
“I hear five thousand. Do I hear fifty-one hundred?”
All eyes turned toward the pageant mom. Her kid needed braces soon. She pressed her lips together and gave her head a quick shake.
The emcee continued his countdown to close the bid. “That’s five thousand going once.”
Nate pictured himself swiveling on the round bed in Brittany’s dominatrix bedroom. He’d been to her two-bedroom apartment downtown, but he’d never been led back to the second bedroom with the padlocked door. Once she’d run into the room to get some more condoms and Nate had spied a lot of leather, whips and chains. As sex-crazed as he could be, that was not his scene. The thought of being held captive sent a faint ache to his wrist. Or she’d want something worse—for him to take her to the Keaton wedding as his plus-one.
Nate didn’t do monogamous relationships but he also did not lead women on. Taking a woman to a wedding was a gateway to commitments and complications. Nate didn’t have time for either.
“Ten thousand dollars!”
The emcee dropped the gavel on the podium and let out a few words of shock. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Did we hear correctly?”
The voice came from the second level. Nate glanced upward but his eyes watered under the light. He lifted his free hand to block it in an attempt to check out the highest bidder. Red dress, curves for days, the swell of ample breasts, luscious red lips which curved into a devilish smile. Nate’s pulse began to race realizing he knew the body—biblically. Another spotlight flashed on Amelia, making them the only two in the room. He gave a prayer in thanks that he’d remembered to loosen his tie because he almost could not swallow.
“Ten thousand dollars going once,” the emcee counted. “Going twice. Sold to the lady in red,” he cheered and banged his gavel down.
An uncomfortable silence pierced the night club. Someone cleared their throat and someone dropped their keys. From the bar Stephen and Lexi stood up straight and began clapping their hands over their heads. A slow, reluctant applause broke out from the crowd, all remembering tonight’s cause.
The emcee leaned into the microphone once more. “Four Points, thank you for your generous donation. Might we learn the name of our benefactor?”
