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But she takes my departure smoothly with a smile, “Have fun!”
“Have fun.”I mutter to myself as I start to eyeball the items.
There’s a whole container of pens next to the first item, so I pluck one up and slowly make my way down the row of tables, writing King’s name for the next open bid on every single item.
When I come to one that’s a weekend getaway in a private ski chalet, I up the current bid from ten thousand to thirty thousand, making sure to carefully print out King’s name.
I’ve never skied in my life. And I have no intention of learning. But I’d love to cost that fucker thirty grand just to sit on a couch and sip hot chocolate.
I’m straightening up from writing, when an arm passes in front of my view and a hand rubs across my exposed cleavage.
The touch is so unexpected and so unwelcome, I stumble back.
“Sorry, Miss, didn’t mean to bump you.” The smarmy jerk smiles at me as his eyes drop to my chest.
Any fun I was having evaporates.
That was no accident.
Like I said, I’ve been to events like this before. And just like my experiences growing up, I know there’s no point in yelling at him. He’d claim it was just an accident. I’d say otherwise. And the crowd––like my parents––will always believe the stupid man. Because everyone always believes the stupid man.
Hot angry tears fill my eyes as I turn away from the table.
I hate it here.
This ballroom.
This unfair sexist world.
I fight the urge to sniffle, pressing my lips together and blinking the moisture from my eyes.
And then I see King. Standing across the room. His head cocked, and his lion-gaze locked on me.
I’m still mad at him, but I don’t have anyone else to go to. And that moment, what just happened, just flung me so far back into my memories that I don’t even care that he’s standing next to Aspen.
I need him.
CHAPTER59
King
Fury vibrates down my spine.
“What’s wrong?” Aspen turns to face the crowd.
“Who is that?” I grit the question between clenched teeth.
She follows my line of sight to the man watching Savannah’s ass as she walks away from the auction tables.
“That’s the mayor’s younger brother. I heard he just moved back to town.”
My knuckles pop as I clench my fists.
“Please don’t kill him here.” Aspen knows me too well. Though it’s not like it’s hard to read the distraught look on Savannah’s face. “Please, King,” she repeats.
Savannah’s eyes catch mine as she hurries toward me.
“I won’t kill him here,” is all I promise.
