Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 47

47

KAIRA

Nine Months Later

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection. Did I like what I saw?

Yes.

I was a confident woman.

At least that was what I was going to keep telling myself. I was a budding author launching my first book. This was my first step to success. I did it on my own dime and my own steam. Yes, I had some support from my parents and Carla, but this was mine.

I did this.

It had been a long nine months. The year felt like it dragged. Time seemed to slow down as I processed everything that happened at Roman’s mansion, separating myself from that world and forging my path through the maze of self-publishing. Each step was a revelation, a declaration that I could make it on my own, without the shadow of Roman’s influence looming over me.

I survived the media fallout after he announced our split and the fact that it was all fake. It had been brutal. Not something I ever wanted to live through again. Thankfully, I was shielded from the brunt of it in Philadelphia. And it wasn’t long before someone else did something scandalous and Roman Kelly’s fake fiancée was a distant memory.

I survived.

That was something I told myself every morning when I opened my eyes. I didn’t just survive, I thrived. Getting kicked to the curb by Roman turned out to be the best thing to happen to me. I got taken down to nothing, and when I picked myself up, it was me who was the caterpillar crawling out of a cocoon. I liked the new me. I rarely looked at myself in the mirror and noticed my thick thighs or belly that could be flatter.

I adjusted the collar of my blouse, took a deep breath, and turned away from the mirror. Carla popped her head into my room. “You’re going to be late to your own book launch.”

“What do you think?” I asked. “Scarf or no scarf?”

Carla surveyed me for a moment before pointing decisively. “No scarf. Keep it simple. Let them focus on the author, not the accessories.”

I nodded in agreement, dropping the scarf back onto my bed. Carla was right; today was about my work, my words. I took another deep breath and grabbed my purse.

“You look stunning, Kaira,” Carla said, leading the way out of my room. She had been an enormous support through everything, almost like a sister I never had. Like sisters, we squabbled. After nearly two months apart, we were back to being best friends.

The drive to the bookstore felt surreal. I was about to present the world a piece of me, hidden in pages disguised as fiction. Carla and I were let in through the back. The eager staff told us there was a nice crowd and she hoped my hand was ready to sign lots of books.

I stepped out into the store and walked to the area that had been set up for me. My name was written in bold blue font on the posters Carla and I had made. I couldn’t believe it was all happening.

The line at Barnes & Noble wasn’t endless, but it was steady. Every new face brought a fresh wave of excitement and gratitude. As I scribbled my name on yet another inside cover, I couldn’t help but feel the satisfaction of accomplishment wash over me. My debut book, a grumpy-sunshine, enemies-to-lovers romance, sat stacked in glossy towers around the table. Seeing my name printed across those covers still didn’t feel real.

Beside me, Carla was in her element. She gestured dramatically to the piles of books, her enthusiasm infectious—or intimidating, depending on who you asked.

“Christmas is coming, people!” she hollered at a group browsing the sci-fi section nearby. “Don’t you want to give the gift of romance? Don’t you want to be a hero to your book-loving friends? This is Kaira freaking Foster! You’ll regret not having this masterpiece on your coffee table!”

“Carla!” I choked out between laughter. “Relax! They’re here to shop, not be barked at!”

She turned to me, feigning shock. “Relax? Have you met me? I’m your number-one hype woman. It’s my job to make sure you sell out tonight.”

I shook my head, still laughing. Carla’s antics drew attention, sure, but it also made the whole event feel less overwhelming. I signed another book for a smiling woman who told me how much she loved the slow-burn tension between the characters. Her words stayed with me long after she walked away.

Carla leaned back in her chair and eyed the crowd like a hawk searching for its next prey. “That couple by the Christmas display,” she said, pointing subtly with her chin. “I’m going to get them over here.”

“Please don’t.” I tugged on her sleeve.

“Too late.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! You two look like people who’d love a spicy love story to cozy up with.”

The couple froze, their expressions a mix of amusement and alarm.

“Carla!” I swatted at her, but she dodged effortlessly.

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Trust me, they’ll thank me later.”

Eventually, the couple did wander over, and to my surprise, they bought two copies. Carla made a show of claiming credit. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. Who needed a publicist and agent and a big PR team that one of the big publishing houses would have provided? I had Carla. She was my secret weapon. And this way, I got to keep most of the money from my sales.

As the signing wound down and the crowd thinned, Carla leaned back in her chair, arms crossed smugly. “I think that was a very successful day for the future queen of romance novels.”

I shook my head, but her words made my chest swell with pride. This past year had been the most challenging and rewarding of my life. I’d poured every ounce of myself into this book. It wasn’t the story I’d initially set out to write, but it was the story I needed to tell—the one about heartbreak, healing, and daring to love again. I told myself and the characters that had grown very quiet since the breakup with Roman that one day, I would tell their story. But not yet.

“You did it, Kaira,” Carla said, her voice softer now. “You really pulled yourself up by your bootstraps. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you have this year. You’ve had the most successful year of your life, and you deserve every bit of it.”

Her words made my eyes sting. I smiled at her, my best friend who had stuck by me through every moment, good and bad. “Thanks, Carla. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, for starters, you wouldn’t have sold half as many books today,” she teased, but there was a glint of pride in her eyes. “Seriously, though. You’re incredible. And don’t you dare forget it.”

I glanced at the stacks of books, at the people still milling around with copies in their hands. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly proud of myself. I’d rebuilt my life, poured my soul into something meaningful, and it had paid off. But even as I basked in the glow of success, a quiet ache lingered in the back of my mind.

Carla must have noticed because she nudged me with her elbow. “What’s that look for?”

“What look?” I asked, feigning innocence.

She raised an eyebrow. “That wistful, staring-into-the-distance look. Come on, spill.”

I sighed, resting my chin in my hand. “I don’t know. It’s just… everything is great. My book is out, people seem to love it, I’m happy with where I am in life. But…”

“But?” Carla prompted.

I hesitated. I did not want to dump my problems on her. They weren’t really problems. It was just a hint of sadness. “There’s still something missing. Or someone.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned closer. “You mean Roman.”

I didn’t respond right away, but I didn’t need to. Carla had always been able to read me like a book.

“I hear he’s going to be up for auction again,” she said, her tone casual but her eyes twinkling with mischief. “They moved the event to Christmas this year. And this time, you can afford a ticket.”

The laugh that bubbled out of me was more incredulous than anything. “Carla, that’s insane. I can’t just show up at a charity auction and bid on him like nothing happened. Especially considering how much he’ll go for. I’ve sold a few books but I don’t have a hundred grand lying around.”

“You’ve sold a lot more than a few,” she said. “Like a lot more.”

“You know what I mean. I just, well, I don’t want to reopen that wound. It’s best I don’t go back down that path.”

“Why not?” she asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because…” I gestured vaguely. “Because he’s over me. He’s doing great now. I’ve seen the headlines. He’s all over the media, and he looks happy. He’s clearly done a lot of work on himself, and I’m glad for him. But we weren’t good for each other.”

“A year ago, sure,” Carla corrected. “Now?” She picked up one of my books and pointed at the animated male main character on the cover. “This guy? He might be your soulmate.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “That’s fiction, Carla.”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But fiction is inspired by life. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like Roman inspired a lot more than just your book.”

I didn’t deny it. Roman had been a catalyst for so much change in my life. He’d forced me to confront parts of myself I’d been avoiding, to take risks, to open up in ways I never thought I could. And even though things hadn’t worked out between us, he’d left a mark on me that I couldn’t ignore.

Still, the idea of seeing him again was terrifying. What if he didn’t want to see me? What if he’d moved on completely?

“He’s probably seeing someone,” I said. “I showed him how good it can be with a woman and now he’s probably found one that makes him happy. One that won’t go into forbidden rooms.”

She snorted. “Kaira, if you started every chapter in your books with ‘he’s probably happy without her,’ do you think anyone would read them?” Carla tapped the book cover with a finger. “People crave hope. They want to see risks, they want grand gestures, they want love that conquers all odds. Maybe it’s time you start living a little more like your characters.”

I blew out a breath. She had a point. My characters always took chances, always fought for what they wanted. Could I really call myself a creator of such stories if I wasn’t willing to take my own advice?

“Life does not always imitate art,” I said.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Carla said. “But if there’s even a small part of you that still wonders what could have been, don’t let fear hold you back. Life’s too short for regrets, Kaira. Just talk to him. Maybe you’ll realize you don’t have feelings for him anymore.”

I nodded, letting her words sink in. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was still a chance to find my own happily ever after. But for now, I had my book, my best friend, and a life I was proud of. That was more than enough.

Wasn’t it? I didn’t need Roman.

Or maybe that was exactly why I was ready. I didn’t need him. I made myself successful without his connections or support. Maybe now I could have it all.