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I wish their nickname didn’t make my lady bits tingle. My shrug almost appears casual. “If they bought me, they’d probably just take me home to Mom and Dad and tell them I got loose and went to an auction at a sex club.”
She laughs, but my anxiety level rises. My Friday evening shift at Santa’s photo booth in the mall calls to me. Why did I deviate from my schedule? I rub my thumb over the dandelion tattoo on the inside of my forearm. It’s not enough to calm my nerves.
Too many unknowns. When it’s not the holiday season, jigsaw puzzles are my Friday evening routine. There is one right answer for each piece, and when you find all of the right answers, you create a beautiful picture. My fingers itch to run around the edge of the innies and outies of a piece while scanning the table, looking for the exact right placement.
Wendy grabs an empty cup. “You don’t look so good. Are you going to throw up?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you thinking of backing out? I certainly get it.”
Should I be taking action like she did, running from her own wedding? Is the auction a mistake? Maybe my first time for sex should be more organic. If only the right answer would simply click into place.
“Aurora warned me that if you got cold feet, I was supposed to remind you to look at your tattoo.”
“She told you about that?” I look around. How did I miss Aurora leaving?
“Just said to remind you.”
“Thanks.” I read the words under my dandelion tattoo:The flower is no less beautiful if the seed is planted by the wind.
It’s usually enough to settle me when my schedule is disrupted. Not tonight. It reminds me of my brothers. They didn’t appreciate the beauty of the intact dandelion. I couldn’t appreciate the randomness of the seeds blowing away.
“Next up, Cindy. Let’s have a round of applause to welcome her to the stage.” The call of my name over the PA draws my attention to the curtain separating me from the stage. I can follow directions, I’m good at that. Directions take away decision making, and sometimes even responsibility.
That’s why I’m studying to be an accountant. Numbers just fall into place. And if they don’t, you fix the problem. They’re not difficult like people. Which leads me back to tonight’s goal, and not wanting to be a virgin spinster someday.
I start my mental checklist, walk on stage, shake hands with Jefferson, put on a big smile, turn to the audience, pretend to scan the room, and pray that I get bid on…and not just for four hours of holiday help.
Roxy, Maggie, Isadora, Sasha, and Jade.I channel the names of the women who all got married as a result of last year’s auction. I don’t need to get married; I just need to get laid so I can check that off my list.
Theyiptype sounds the auction helpers make each time someone increases the bid piques my curiosity. I let my eyes fall on the next bidder paddle. The man holding it is none other than Adrian, one of my stepbrothers. Shivers run through my body. Sitting next to him is Ballz, the nickname for our brother Balthazar. But where’s Jeff? The three of them are practically inseparable.
How did I not see them sooner? The baseball caps on the table are the likely answer. When I looked around earlier, all I saw was the top of baseball caps and guys playing with their phones.
I glance to the side of the stage. Wendy is jumping up and down excitedly and has her fists balled in front of her mouth. It’s a nice vote of confidence, but there’s a real possibility they’ll send me home. My entire evening would be undermined.
“One million,” Jeff calls out, bringing a halt to the other paddles that were being raised.
Dollars? What? Wasn’t the last bid one hundred thousand?
No one will be able to outbid them. I’m poised on the fence between total humiliation and a fantasy coming true.
“Going, going…gone, for one million dollars!”
Ballz jumps from his seat and runs to the stage. I rub my thumb over my tattoo. No more changes of plans. I point him to the payment table, reminding him of the proper order. “I’m staying here until the end. The time I owe you doesn’t start until this is over.”
I want to be here for Wendy, but I’m also nervous. I don’t want them to take me home to Mom and Dad.
Two
Ballz
Waitingfortheauctionto end to claim my stepsister has my balls in a bind. But when she gets her head set on something, it better happen. If I want any chance ofclaimingher, I won’t stress her out.
It’s a risky longshot anyway. Coming here was supposed to be a fun, public way to make a huge donation to the woman’s shelter and then let whoever we won off the hook…a publicity stunt to satisfy our probation.
But we bought our stepsister, and I know exactly what I want to do with her. Adrian’s having the same thoughts as me.
