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Fern drags me along the perimeter of the room as if I’m not stumbling like a newborn giraffe while tossing instructions at me over her shoulder.
I do my best to listen, but it’s nearly impossible to hear her over the buzzing in my ears.
When I reach the top of the stairs leading backstage, I mistakenly look out at a sea of tables filled with guests, and my stomach bottoms out. “Actually, you know what? I-I’ve changed my mind.”
Fern’s there the second I move to retreat, and the scowl on her face is almost more terrifying than what I’m about to do. “Get your tuchus up there, young lady.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I squeak, taking my spot at the edge of the stage.
There’s a woman in front of me who waves at the crowd as the auctioneer introduces her. After a short intro, he starts the bid, and two men fall into a bidding war, easily racking up ten grand.
When the winner is announced, the crowd’s applause rumbles the planks beneath my feet, and my heart leaps into a jack-hammering rhythm.
“All right, fellas. Please welcome our final lady of the evening, Miss—oh, hold on a moment, folks,” the man says when Fern scampers on stage. She whispers in his ear, and he pastes on a smile that’s bright white in contrast to his spray-tanned skin. “Looks like we’ve had a slight change in our lineup this evening. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Miss Molly Hart.”
“Come on,” Fern mouths, frantically waving for me to step into the light.
“Oh, god. Oh, god. Why did I do this?” Bile rises in my throat as my borrowed heels click, click, click on the floor, echoing through the microphone.
I swipe my sweaty palms over my hips and watch my toes, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.
The auctioneer pats a hand over his thinning hair while gawking at my underwhelming outfit.
“Uh, hi,” I mutter when I reach the X on the floor where the other woman was standing.
Flashing the card he was prepared to read for Claire, he leans in to whisper, “You’ll need to tell me some things about yourself since I don’t have any notes for you.”
If this wasn’t humiliating enough, the entire room has fallen deathly silent. I give the crowd a nervous smile, but my face is hot, and I’m terrified my birthmark is blazing straight through my makeup.
“I-I’m a florist.”
His lips thin. “Gonna need something more interesting than that if you want these guys to bite, sugar.”
I wring my hands, searching for anything interesting about myself. “Oh, um. My dad has a repair business. We like building things together.”
“Do you have any hobbies?” he asks apathetically.
Telling a room full of strangers about my love affair with my piano isn’t gonna happen. “Working with my hands is my hobby.”
He stares blankly before turning back to the room, and nausea boils in my stomach, urging me to pull a lock of hair free to partly cover my face.
I can do this. I can totally do this, I try and reassure myself.
“Thank you for your patience, folks. Molly here is a local florist who enjoys working with her hands…” The room explodes with raucous laughter and whistles. “Now, now, calm down, you filthy dogs.”
I take a tentative step backward when the auctioneer raises a suggestive brow, enticing them further. “What I meant was?—”
“Five dollars!” Wade’s obnoxious voice pierces through the murmuring.
My arms go numb with a burst of adrenaline when my eyes land on him and that cocksure grin. He fist bumps one of his buddies behind his seat and then winks at me.
I jerk my chin up, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but then my gaze falls to Rowan and Sam seated beside him, and it’s impossible to stop the knot steadily forming in my throat.
He must think this is hilarious, watching me stand up here, pretending like I’m worthy of any one of these men spending a dime on me.
I pant beneath the bright lights that are uncomfortably warm, breaking sweat across my forehead. Glancing back at Fern, I find her mouth screwed up tight, irritated that I’ve messed this up for her without even trying.
All at once, I’m catapulted back to the high school cafeteria, frantically trying to pull my pants up after Wade shirked them to the floor in front of our entire class.
