AllFreeNovel
Share Us
BERNADETTE
The man with beautiful green eyes, wearing a dark blue suit struts toward me. A suit that looks expensive and is probably custom-tailored.
“Hello,” he says with a silky voice. “I’m Emery Austin, CEO of TriTech.”
Even his name is sexy.
“Bernadette Armstrong.”
He lays a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Any relation to Neil or Lance?” he asks with humor in his voice.
“No, or I wouldn’t be here,” I respond, thinking a rich relative would have helped me.
Emery’s gaze softens.
Gently cupping my cheek, he says, “It’s okay. You’re in good hands with me.”
I want to believe him because I saw him with Ford. He wouldn’t let a creep bid on me or win me, right?
“Why did you try to choke that other man bidding on me?”
He chuckles. “You’ll see.”
My hand tucked into his elbow, like I’m his date, he leads me to a round cocktail table where Ford smiles at me with a reassuring nod. To his left, the other bidder with blond hair stands with his hands in his pockets.
Two men wanted me and were willing to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for me.It must be an ego thing.
Emery’s hand tightens around my closed fist. “Bernadette, this is Ashton Ives.”
“Dr.Ashton Ives,” the stunner with a man bun corrects Emery and reaches his hand out to me.
“Dr. Ives,” I say with a small curtsey.
Why I curtsey, I don’t know.
“Let’s go to the private bar.” Ford holds up a card key.
He motions for us to follow him, all while another auction comes and goes, Girl #4 fetching the same as Girls #1 and #2.
I feel guilty that I got so much more. Ford set this up. These are his friends. He couldn’t bid on me, so he made his friends do it.
Embarrassment washes through me, pulling me back to earth.
They didn’t really want me, only bid on me as a favor to Ford.
But then again, they got physical over me.
While I try to get a handle on my conflicting thoughts, we exit through another enormous carved wood door and into a corridor with dark marble tile. The dizzying striations has me gripping Emery’s arm.
He holds me around the waist and steadies me, his touch warm and secure.
I’m surprised I remember what that feels like since the last few months I’ve been living with a drug-addled con man who stopped touching me.
Is my judgment off? Am I reading all this wrong?
Dr. Ives wanders deep into the lounge, which is more of an elegant high-end bar for elites with sparkling glass shelves and a display of top-shelf liquor bottles. But it’s seeing the entire city stretchedout beyond floor-to-ceiling arched windows that has my breath leaving my lungs.
