Page 25 of Auctioned


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“I don’t understand,” I said. “What is that?”

He held up the paper and frowned at it. “It’s your account statement.”

“I don’t have an account here,” I said.

“You must,” he said, tucking the statement back into the envelope and sliding it back across the desk to me. “You wouldn’t have a statement if you

didn’t have an account.”

“Are you trying to be funny?” I asked, perturbed. I grabbed the envelope from the desk and stuck it back into my purse.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he said with a shrug. “It just comes naturally.”

I had to keep myself from smiling. Dammit, just being in the room with him was like being drunk. The world around me blurred as my vision tunneled into him. My head felt lighter, my feet barely touched the ground. But no, dammit, he was not who I thought he was. He wanted something, obviously, but I’d be damned if I was going to give it to him.

“I’m going to ask again,” I said calmly. “What is this all about?”

“That’s your money,” he said, leaning back and spreading out his hands. “Tony got seventy-five thousand to settle your father’s debt and the rest was yours. I told you that I would figure out a way to invest it for you and that’s what I’ve done. I will need your signature on some forms, but that’s just a technicality. The account is yours, as is the money. I can issue checks and a debit card for you to draw out whatever you need whenever you need it.”

“That’s my money,” I said, still not fully convinced. “But I thought you and Tony were fighting over the money when I left.”

“That was never the case,” he said. “I was fighting for you, for your money. I never intended to take the money back. There was no grand scheme to buy your virginity and then steal the money back from you.”

“There wasn’t?”

“No, of course not,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Look, my cousin, Tony, is a world-class prick who plays every angle that puts money in his pocket. When your father showed up with seventy-five-thousand dollars to cover his debt, Tony asked where he got the money. Your father refused to say, so Tony had Jimmy work him over a bit because he figured something was up. Your father finally said his daughter won it in Atlantic City. He didn’t mention you by name, but Tony remembered your last name from the auction brochure and connected the dots. He realized that you were Tommy Donovan’s daughter and the payoff was coming out of your share of the auction. Tony knew how much you were paid, so he decided to get it all.”

“What a fucking prick,” I said.

Nicky’s head bobbed. “Yes, he is a fucking prick, but he’s not an unreasonable man. After I mopped up the place with Jimmy, I had a little private talk with Tony in the alley out back of the club. It took a little convincing and getting my uncle Gino involved, but eventually, Tony saw the error of his ways and delivered the money to my office. I opened the account and waited to hear from you. It’s been a few weeks. I figured you didn’t want to speak to me.”

“What didn’t you call me?” I asked quietly.

“Would you have taken my call? Would you have believed anything I had to say?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, there you go,” he said, clasping his hands together. “I assume your father is okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine now.”

“That’s good.” He licked his lips and gazed into my eyes. “And you? How are you, really?”

I thought about it for a moment, then sighed through a smile. “You know, I’m okay. I mean, this was all a mess, but in a way, I’m glad it happened. My dad has quit drinking and gambling. His business has picked up. He’s healthy and happy. For the first time in a long while, I think he’s going to be fine. We both are.”

“Have you enrolled in school?”

I snorted a laugh. “No, up until this moment I thought I was broke.”

“Now you’re not broke,” he said, sweeping his hand in the air. “Start applying for the fall semester.”

“I may do that,” I said. I let my eyes rest on his. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Nicky. I know now that you really are a good guy.”

“I have my off moments,” he said, leaning over the desk and smiling with his eyes. “You make me want to be a good guy.”

“I do?”

“You do.” He glanced at his watch. “You know, it is lunchtime and I’m famished.”

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