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Even though we’ve never been overly close, more co-workers than friends, her strong personality is something I’m currently clinging to.
“My aunt owns an art gallery,” she starts. “Every year they hold an annual charity fundraiser—”
I cut her off. “I’m not okay with handouts when I know there are people in much worse positions than I am who could use the help.”
She shakes her head. “Shut up and let me talk.”
Yep. I needed her tonight.
Sandi continues. “So, this fundraiser. They go all out to draw in a crowd, and this year, it’s about winning dates.”
My eyes widen, and I swallow hard. “Like prostitutes?”
She shoves playfully at my thigh and shakes her head. “Jesus, Olivia. No. It’s purely platonic and just for fun and charity. My aunt has me signed up, but you could take my place and—”
I interrupt her again. “Umm, what about Malcolm? I thought you were happily married.”
She finishes her last shot and laughs, her hazel eyes twinkling under the neon bar lights. “Like I said. Fun and charity. Even Mal is up on the auction block. It’s not a real date. Just something to entice in the older crowd with money. Hell, according to my aunt, some of them never even happen. Bidders are either stuck-up socialites flaunting their deep pockets or lonely widows looking for someone to chat with while supporting a good cause.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word. “I’m still confused on how me taking your place could help with all my newly acquired bills.”
“Well,” she says with a smack of her lips. “Each volunteer receives a small payment as a token of gratitude for being ogled at. I was going to donate mine to the children’s hospital that they’re raising the funds for, but right now, you need it more than they do.”
“And I don’t have to sleep with anyone?” I ask, because this sounds too good to be true.
“Nope,” she replies confidently. “I promise. You just need to agree now, because it’s happening in two days.”
When I hesitate, she continues, “Seriously. I’ll make one phone call and you can take my place. And, if you manage to snag the highest bid of the night, which you can absolutely do, you’ll bring home fifteen hundred bucks.”
With the three grand still left in my mom’s account, the money I’ve been saving up, and this opportunity, there might be a chance to appease the county and halt the auction. Surely, they’d have some sympathy for me, given the circumstances…
Or they just might laugh in my face, and I would have put myself on display for nothing. My stomach churns as I drum my nails on the bar top. I’m not sure I can do this. Any other day, it might sound fun, but I know what’s at stake if I can’t get this money. The pressure has me hesitating.
I reach for my fruity cocktail and down the last of it, letting the remnants of alcohol burn down my throat as I do my best to let go of all the things that I can’t change. At least for the moment.
The glass touches down on the counter a little harder than I intend, and I stare at it while it teeters briefly before balancing back out and staying upright.
Fuck it. I don’t want to live with regret if I run short of money and have to remember the moment I told Sandi no.
“I’ll do it,” I declare with feigned bravado. “But you’ll have to help with my hair, makeup, and picking out a dress.”
Sandi places a hand over her chest and swoons. “Oh, girl. I’ve got you. We’re going to have so much fun with this, and you’re going to be the star of the night.”
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being the center of attention, but if it means earning the cash I desperately need without compromising myself, then why the hell not?
Plus, as long as I sleep until noon tomorrow, I can’t regret this in the morning.
2
OLIVIA
There are maybe ten minutes left before I’m going to be “auctioned off.” Sandi has already left me to go take her seat in the crowd, and despite her repeated assurances that this isn’t the first step to becoming a hooker, I’m still unsure about my decision to be here tonight.
Maybe it’s the waiting crowd or the worry of not being bid on at all, butsomethinghas my chest constricting and lungs working overtime. I just hope I don’t find out what that is.
Casting one final glance in the mirror, I admire my sleek, straight hair. The ebony strands cascade flawlessly around my face, accentuating my fair skin. My makeup is done heavier than I normally like, but with the highest bid bonus on the line, I hadn’t asked Sandi to hold back.
Shimmering eyeshadow and black eyeliner make my bright blue eyes look even more vibrant than normal. My lips are plumped with light red lipstick, while an unnatural blush stains my cheeks. The black sequin dress clings to my curves, it’s deep V-neckline showcasing my breasts, but not enough that I feel overly exposed.
