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This time my eyes widen as I completely turn my body in her direction. “She seems likemy type? Do tell, what exactly is my type, Daisy?”
Now, I’m amused. This is by far the most words Daisy has ever uttered to me, and I can’t help but wonder if the woman currently on stage has put the young waitress up to this, doing her best to coax my bidding hand.
The auction proceeds while I’m staring at Daisy in curiosity. She looks almost pale as she watches the auctioneer—who’s really just the resident MC that Garrett has hired to run these events. I’m still waiting for Daisy’s response to my question as the announcer calls out.
“Sold to the man in the back for fifteen thousand!”
Daisy’s eyes are wide as saucers now, and before I can ask what the hell is going on, she scurries off like a frightened field mouse.
Meanwhile, the blonde is beaming down at the gentleman who walks up to the stage and takes her sweetly by the hand, leading her to the empty chair next to his. She looks pleased with how that turned out, and I smile to myself as I bring the bourbon to my lips, realizing that the club seems to have done its trick tonight. For the first time today, I’m not in pain, and it’s a welcome relief.
But as the next player takes the stage, this time a handsome sub, who I’ve heard likes a lot of pain, I realize I can’t get my mind off of Daisy. Standing from my seat as the bidding begins, I find Geo at the bar.
“Hey, where did Daisy go?” I ask.
Geo is pouring a glass of wine as his cheeks stretch into a toothy grin. “My guess would be halfway to Sacramento by now.”
“What?”
He laughs as he sets down the drink in front of the waiting woman. “She lost a bet and she’s probably hiding so I don’t make her pay up.”
My brows pinch together as I stroke my hand over my beard. “Did this bet happen to have anything to do with me?”
Geo’s smile grows more mischievous. “Maybe.”
With a shake of my head, I level a stern glare at him before returning to my seat. This explains Daisy’s peculiar behavior. I’m sure if I was working every auction night at the club, I’d find ways to make it interesting too.
When Eden takes the stage a few minutes later, I catch sight of Daisy nearly spilling a tray of martinis due to the shake in her hands. I don’t know what her wager was, but by the looks of it, she’s not too eager to settle up.
The bidding war for Eden goes down between a lot of patrons, as it usually does. It doesn’t take long before half of them are priced out and she’s standing on stage proudly, while a man and a woman go to war for her, costing them somewhere in the six digits. For most of these people, that’s equivalent to twenty bucks in their bank accounts, but as I watch my best and oldest friend see just how badly these people want to spend one sexy, fuck-filled hour with her, it makes me really fucking happy.
She deserves this.
The woman ends up on top—with the bids, I mean. And Eden wears an enthusiastic expression as she slinks off the stage and nearly drags the woman toward the stairs.
And I figure my night is over. Not a total loss for an evening at the club. I could have spent the last two hours of my night in much worse ways, so I toss back the rest of my drink and start to rise.
But that’s where the night takes a turn.
Just after the announcer starts to thank everyone for coming and declares an end to the auction, a voice bellows from the bar.
“Actually, we have one more!”
The announcer smiles at Geo from the stage. “Is our bartender joining us on the auction block tonight?” he says excitedly.
Geo snickers. “Oh, not me.” Then, I watch as he points directly at Daisy, and every pair of eyes in the room shift, landing on her. “Our drink server, Daisy, will be auctioning off a one-hour date for tonight!”
The MC looks straight at her. “Daisy? What a treat. Would you care to join us on stage?”
Her smile is forced as she meanders awkwardly up to the stage. I have to pinch my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from smiling like an idiot as I watch her take her place, front and center.
This answers my question. Daisy lost a bet, and it’s time for her to pay up.
When she’s standing under the lights, highlighting her nearly white-blonde hair and petite stature, I find myself suddenly admiring her for the first time.
She’s a cute, little thing. Long, wavy blonde hair that she always keeps braided down one side. Stunning sky-blue eyes and a button nose. But she’s young—tooyoung.
Not that I have a problem dating women younger than me. I’m at the tail end of fifty-six. I don’t have a preference either way, but a woman as young as Daisy wouldn’t be interested in a man of my years, at least not for the right reasons.
