Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Weston
I was sitting behind my desk, reviewing a contract, when my grandmother stepped into my office.
“Hello, Grandmother. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was just on a conference call with the board.” She sat across from my desk and set her purse in the chair next to her.
“Ah, let me guess.” I leaned back in my chair.
“No need. I’ll tell you. They said tonight better work or else.
A few of the board members will be attending tonight.
So, you will be sober. You will be charming in a way that doesn’t cost you a thing, and you will keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.
Disappoint me again in front of the board, and you will find out exactly how little stands between you and the life you would have had without your grandfather and me. ”
“Will you be attending tonight?”
“No. I have another charity to attend. I believe your grandfather would have loved this. He loved that school and claimed those were some of the best years of his life.”
“If the school was so great, why didn’t you send my father there?”
“Because we’re Castiles, and Castiles only attend the best private schools money can buy. Your great-grandparents didn’t have money, so a public high school was the only option for your grandfather.” She stood from her chair. “I have some shopping to do. Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks, Grandmother.”
After a busy day at the office, I climbed into the back of the Bentley.
“Rough day?” my driver, Ben, asked.
“Busy day, Ben. Take me home so I can shower and change. I need to be at Manhattan Heights High School by six thirty.”
I climbed out of the car and stepped inside my brownstone. After showering and dressing in one of my finest suits, I had Ben drive me to the school. When he pulled up to the curb, I saw Finn leaning against the building with his phone to his ear. By the time I approached him, he had ended his call.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. That was Reece. The eviction notice and paperwork are ready for Avila’s Bakery.”
“Good. We’ll pay Mr. Avila a visit on Monday. Let’s go inside and get this over with.” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
We stepped inside the school as a long hallway stretched before us.
“I think the gymnasium is this way.” Finn pointed.
We made a right and could hear the soft music and voices coming from the room on the left. I couldn’t help but snicker when we walked in, and my eyes instantly diverted to the 200 paper cut stars hanging from the ceiling. In their defense, they were wrapped in silver foil.
“There you are!” Kylie ran over. “It’s about to start.”
“Love the decorations, Kylie.” Finn smiled.
“Shut up. You need to get on stage. The auction starts in five minutes.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her.
I looked around for alcohol and didn’t see any.
“Kylie,” I shouted and held up my hand. She turned and walked over.
“Yes?”
“Where’s the alcohol?”
“There isn’t any! This is a school function, held on school grounds. We aren’t allowed to have alcohol!”
“But there aren’t any students here. It’s just us adults.”
“Tell it to Principal Jordan!” she jammed her finger into my chest before walking away.
I walked around and briefly mingled with some of the other guests I knew.
Everyone here came from money. You could smell the wealth the second you walked in.
I took a seat reserved for me in the front row.
Kylie stepped on stage and gave her speech.
After many items were auctioned off, it was time for the blind-date auction.
My stomach twisted. This was going to be my biggest nightmare.
“Now, it’s time for our blind-date auction,” Kylie announced.
The first woman stepped out in a long formal gown. She was older, and I assumed she was Principal Jordan. No, thank you. I’d have to wait to see what my other options were. But then, if I waited until the last woman, she could be worse. So basically, I was screwed either way.
Principal Jordan introduced herself, gave a little background information, and the bidding began.
Samantha
“You look gorgeous.” I smiled at Greta. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“I intend to. How is my hair? Any pieces sticking up?”
“Your hair looks perfect.”
“Okay, ladies. Let’s line up.” A woman walked over with a clipboard. “I need Principal Jordan, Greta Williams, Franny Marx, Katherine Fox, and Samantha Hollis.”
My head whipped around so fast, I swear I pulled a muscle.
“Excuse me. I’m Samantha Hollis, but there seems to be a mistake. I did not sign up to participate. I only signed up to help out.”
“Your name and information are right here.” She turned her clipboard around. “You signed up. You probably just don’t remember.”
“Oh, I clearly remember. I DID NOT sign up.” I glanced at Greta. “Did you do this?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”
“Well, I’m sorry too, but it isn’t an option. You will go out on that stage and be auctioned off for a blind date. We promised five women, and that’s what we will deliver. Now, please get in line.”
“Look at me. I’m a hot mess. I can’t go out there in jeans and a t-shirt. Nobody in their right mind will bid on me.”
“You look fine. Just smile.”
“Do you suppose Zoey signed you up?” Greta leaned in and whispered.
“Someone did, and when I find out who, they’re dead.”
Weston
Contestant number two stepped onto the stage.
Nope. Contestant number three stepped on.
Nope. I had no choice. I would have to bid on number four because I wasn’t taking chances anymore.
Contestant number four stepped on stage, and instantly, my eyes narrowed.
It was her. The beautiful woman from the coffee shop a couple of weeks ago.
The one who eavesdropped on my phone conversation then told me off and called me Mr. Monopoly.
What the hell? She was dressed in ripped jeans and a t-shirt.
She walked up to the microphone and adjusted it.
“Hi. Wow. Isn’t this lovely? Before I introduce myself, let’s discuss the obvious. The other women look like Disney princesses, and I look like I got lost on my way to Target.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as the rest of the audience laughed.
“Anyway. I’m Samantha Hollis. I’m an English Literature teacher here at Manhattan Heights. And for reasons I’ll never understand, I voluntarily spend my days arguing with teenagers about whether Gatsby was romantic or needed therapy.”
The audience erupted into laughter.
“Last week, one of my students told me that if Daisy Buchanan were alive today, she would’ve been a social media influencer.”
The audience laughed again. She was funny, and I was highly intrigued.
I held up my hand. “I bid $50,000.”
She looked at me and squinted her eyes.
“60,000,” Bart St. Clair said.
“Not tonight, Bart. Not tonight,” I whispered to myself. “$100,000.” I raised my hand.
“100,000 for this lovely English teacher,” Finn said. “Going once. Going twice…”
“$110,000,” Bart St. Clair said.
Jesus Christ.
“$200,000.” I raised my hand.
“$200,000. Going once, going twice,” Finn paused. “Sold to Mr. Castile himself.”
Once the blind auction was over, I was called on stage to give a speech.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight. This school meant a lot to my grandfather. Agustus Castile was a superstar here. Not only for his athletic skills, but also for his academic skills. When I heard that the school was facing hardship, I knew I had to step in. This school meant the world to my grandfather, and if he were alive today, he would have done the same thing. Tonight’s turnout has been amazing, and I, along with Castile Properties, thank you for bringing your checkbooks to help keep this fine establishment up and running.
After all, the future is the children who graduate from this school. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
The audience clapped, and I stepped off the stage.
“Oh, my God!” Kylie ran over and threw her arms around me. “I can’t believe you did that. But I know why, and I swear to God, Wes.”
“It’s not nice to swear to God, Kylie. Relax. You pulled this off. It was a success, and the board will be happy. Now, I must go meet my date.” I winked and walked away.
I found Samantha Hollis over by the punch bowl.
“You’re a pretty expensive date.” I smiled.
“You.” She pointed at me.
“Well, you could have done worse.” A smirk crossed my lips.
“I highly doubt it.” She tipped the cup to her lips.
“I’m Weston Castile. You’re a high school English teacher, eh?”
“Mr. Monopoly, eh?” she spat back.
“Are you available tomorrow evening for our date?” I asked.
“I suppose it’s best to get it over with. Tomorrow night will be fine.”
“I’ll need your address.” I pulled out my phone.
“For what?”
“To pick you up?” My brows furrowed.
“I can meet you wherever.”
“No. I will pick you up. Address, now!” I commanded.
“117 West 58th Street, Apartment 8e.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess,” she said.
“What’s with the clothes? I mean, all the other women were in formal dresses. And as you stated, you look like you got lost on your way to Target.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be a part of this. I volunteered for behind-the-scenes help. Someone put my name on that list.”
“Who?”
“I think I have an idea, but I’m not sure.”
“Well, we can discuss it on our date tomorrow. I’ll pick you up around seven.”
“Fine.”
“Oh, and please dress more appropriately. I’ll be taking you to a fancy restaurant.”
“Yeah. Will do. I would hate to humiliate myself more than I already have.”
The corners of my mouth curved upward. She was adorable. And that was a word I never used.