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“Last call to place your bids for the silent auction!” A loud voice interrupts me and I step back as they round the corner.
“You okay by yourself for a moment? I need to take care of something really quick and get Daisy out to the car.”
“Yeah.” She keeps her gaze down away from me and I wonder if I may have scared her. I make my way through the building to the silent auction, placing a bid on my own yacht before returning to the booth.
“They’re about to call the winners,” I say, motioning toward the other room.
“Oh, okay.” She steps out of the booth and we start walking toward the other room, my hand settling against her low back.
“And the winners are… drum roll, please!” Mr. Fein cheerfully shouts into the microphone as everyone claps. He starts running through the winners one by one until he finally gets to my yacht.
“And the grand prize tonight that I think we all bid on is an exclusive weekend on Mr. Weston Vaughn’s luxurious, custom built private yacht! Can we get a round of applause for Mr. Vaughn, ladies and gentlemen!” He points toward me and the room erupts into cheers as they stare at me. I smile and offer a wave, Daphne stepping away from me so fast like she saw a spider.
“The winner is”—Mr. Fein opens the envelope—“our very own Daphne Flowers!” The room once again cheers.
“What?” She looks genuinely terrified. “I didn’t bid—I can’t afford that.” She looks up at me, then back to the room of people clapping for her.
“Just smile and wave,” I say as I clap next to her.
“No, seriously, I didn’t bid on it. There’s been a mistake.” She looks around, then up at me as I smile at her. “You did this?”
“I might have.” I shrug.
“Why? I can’t pay for it. Are you crazy?”
I wait till everyone’s attention is back on themselves before gently clasping her arm and ushering her out into the lobby of the school.
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t expecting you to actually pay for it. I placed the bid in your name because I couldn’t bet on my own yacht.”
“Why even offer it then?”
“Because you demanded I do it. I did what you said. I just put my own twist on it, so to speak. The school will still get the money and I’ll get a weekend on my yacht… with you.” I add on that bit quickly. I hadn’t planned on it; it was most definitely a spur of the moment decision I just made before walking across the building and placing the bet. Feeling her body against mine, feeling the burn of jealousy in my chest when she was flirty with deck shoes or Mr. Fudge Fucking Sundae whatever the hell his name is, I knew I had to do something.
“With me?” she almost shouts.
“Yeah, that’s my part of the deal. I guess I forgot to mention it before when you were in my office making your demands. Labor Day weekend you’ll already have the time off work and I need some help with Daisy since my nanny up and quit on me. Did I mention that Roxy quit? Yeah, got sick of me running late apparently.”
“So that’s it? I don’t get a say in this? I’m now just your built-in babysitter when you need it and you get to make decisions for me? Tough shit, Mr. Vaughn.” Her head shifts to one side a little as she settles back on her foot. “You can’t just tell me what to do.”
My smile fades as I step toward her, her squared shoulders wilting a bit as I tower over her. “Isn’t that exactly what you did to me when you marched into my office?”
“That—it’s different. It’s to benefit your daughter and the school. This is—” Her words trail off.
“This is what, Daphne?” I know I’m goading her. I can see the little vein on her temple growing more prominent.
“Bullshit. It’s bullshit!”
I click my tongue at her. “Now, what kind of language is that in a school? That mouth of yours really might get you in trouble someday.”
“I don’t have time for this, Mr. Vaughn. I’m not going on your little trip. End of story. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to help clean up.” She moves to step around me, but I step in the same direction, cutting her off.
“Are you really telling me you don’t want an all-expenses-paid vacation in the Bahamas on a private luxury yacht where you only have to help out with my daughter now and then when my parents need a break or I’m busy? What else could you possibly be doing that weekend that is better than that? Painting by numbers in your fuzzy socks? Come on, you know I pay very well.”
Her mouth snaps shut as she realizes what I’m offering her. She’s thinking about it, considering it. Her eyes drift away, then quickly dart back to me. “Absolutely not. I don’t even know you or your family. How uncomfortable would that be for me? Did you consider that? Besides, it’s completely inappropriate and I’m sure if the school found out, they wouldn’t approve.”
“Do you always follow the rules?”
“Yes, and you should as well.” Her full teacher facade is back in place, and it makes me chuckle. It makes me wonder what it would take to get her to relax, to let her hair down a little bit if she were outside these walls. She looks boldly at me again. “I’m not going. I’m serious. And by the way, I like painting in my fuzzy socks.”
