33. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
T wo hours into the auction, out of sight from the crowd, Stone stood slightly to the side of the stage, adjusting his mask, while the bachelor ahead of him was auctioned off. Each round of applause frayed his nerves. Who was he kidding? Frayed didn’t do the situation justice. His nerves were jumpy as fuck—a new experience for him.
He normally approached the unknown cool and calculating. Hell, he’d stared into the face of death on more than one occasion and never broken a sweat. But now, the murmur of the audience, a constant roar, reminded him of the sea—relentless and unforgiving.
He ran his damp hands over his thighs. The nerves weren’t from fear. Instead, they were directly related to the pounding of his heart. A heart fully aware of the gravity of the moment. Agreeing to be up on the stage involved much more than getting auctioned off for a good cause.
It was the precursor to his confession. A confession of love but also a confession of identity. An identity that could be a deal breaker just as it had been with the last woman he’d thought could handle the truth. If Sophie said no to embracing a similar identity, then his love confession would not be made. And considering she’d turned down his invite to have a drink after the event, what were the odds she’d move heaven and earth to win him at auction?
It didn’t take a genius to figure out the answer.
He shoved the thought on its ass. Nothing good would come from worrying. There had been a hundred dominos stacked to get him to this point, and now one of them had been pushed. Only a coward turned and fled just because winning suddenly didn’t look plausible.
From his concealed vantage point, Stone observed as the book-boyfriend bachelor known for his murky past effortlessly won over the crowd. The man’s smile and gestures were perfectly crafted to charm, and Stone wondered if the guy had used his good looks to lure Sophie during their interview. Had he asked her to save a date for after the conclusion of the auction? Was that the real reason she’d turned down his offer?
Of course, he’d had the same damn thought with every bachelor who’d been on the stage tonight. And why wouldn’t he? Had she interviewed him, he would have asked her out, rules be damned. It didn’t help that Sophie had enthusiastically bid on every last one of them.
Another animated cheer from the audience drew a curse from Stone. The bids were happening at a lively pace. With each new bid, applause and laughter followed. This because the bachelor in question was giving them a spectacular show, dancing and flirting from a distance. It was like watching a masterclass in appeal and allure. Stone wasn’t surprised by the bachelors’ ability to fascinate. That’s how guys like him were able to skirt the rules and live on the edges of the law.
A jaw-dropping offer reverberated through the hall, and the crowd went quiet.
“Sold,” Isabella said, clanging her gavel on her podium.
Stone’s gaze narrowed slightly as he recognized the figure who had placed the winning bid—it was Frankie, Naked Runway’s formidable editor-in-chief. A familiar prickling sensation crept up his spine. There was something unsettling about her, a certain sharpness in her demeanor that hinted at deeper, unseen motives. Though he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of his unease, his instincts screamed that a secret was there, lurking beneath her polished exterior.
He’d mentioned his concern to Ms. Birdie, who’d brushed him off and said she was on top of it.
“You’re up next,” Ziggy said. The magazine’s fashion editor was tonight’s behind-the-scenes manager, making sure the book boyfriends were on time for their big moment. “You ready to out-stud the last stud?”
“That guy will be a damn hard act to follow,” Stone said.
Ziggy tittered. “That’s what she said.”
Stone scowled, causing Ziggy to titter again.
Resisting the urge to continue to wear his feelings on his sleeve, Stone instead straightened his bow tie and took a deep, steadying breath. While the rest of the crowd wouldn’t recognize him, he’d gone with one of Isabella’s cinnamon roll ensembles—other than the mask—in the hopes Sophie would.
“Let’s do this,” he said to Ziggy.
Stone quietly rehearsed the pivotal line he’d been given to deliver. It was a line spoken by the beloved hero to his heroine—a line that gave Sophie her fantasy’s desire.
“Go,” Ziggy ordered. “You’re on.”
As Stone stepped onto the stage, the crowd’s applause washed over him like a tidal wave of sound, causing his steps to momentarily falter. Fuck. What if this was a mistake? He peered through the narrow slits of his mask, scanning the faces for Sophie’s. She’d moved. No longer in the same spot she’d been in all night.
Relief washed through him when he finally located her.
There she was, Sophie E. Clark, the woman whose relentlessly optimistic outlook on life had effortlessly capsized his world. Only she wasn’t smiling at the new bachelor on the stage. Instead, her face was an impenetrable mask, her eyes sharp and searching, roaming over his disguised form as if trying to decide if she knew him.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, our final and most enigmatic book boyfriend of the evening,” Isabella said. “Please welcome Penny Reid’s Alex from Love Hacked. Tonight, he’s known simply as Mr. X.
“Like Alex, Mr. X harbors a secret—a secret he’s willing to disclose exclusively to the highest bidder. A secret so compelling, he’s offering a money-back guarantee if you’re not thoroughly intrigued.” Isabella pivoted toward Stone. “Mr. X, if you would, please share your then he said line?”
Stone didn’t glance at his cue card. His gaze locked with Sophie’s as he leaned into the microphone. “I’m going to touch you how I like, whenever I like, and you’re going to let me,” he declared, his voice a mix of command and vulnerability and truth.
Sophie blinked, the swift motion breaking their connection for a fraction of a second. When her eyes opened again, recognition—sharp and profound and angry—flared within them.
Panic swept through Stone. Recognizing him wasn’t supposed to make her angry. This was a grand gesture. They were supposed to make a person swoon. But the look in Sophie’s eyes told the story of a woman who wanted to commit murder.
“The bid on Mr. X is starting at…” Isabella’s voice rang out, echoing through the charged atmosphere of the auction hall, and cutting through the fuck, fuck, fuck fog in Stone’s head.
So much fuck fog that Stone was barely aware of the numbers flying around like buzzards. His focus was entirely on Sophie. A woman who most certainly wasn’t bidding on him.
Her eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were sharp and piercing, slicing through the distance between them with an intensity that seemed almost tangible. If she didn’t see his presence on the stage as a grand gesture, how did she view it?
Like an invasion of the finale of her professional daydreamer gig?
Was his being on the stage marring her happiness?
Of course it was. This had been a mistake. A massive mistake. She didn’t see his presence as him becoming vulnerable. She saw it as him mocking her hard work.
His grand gesture was a grand wreck.
And if Sophie didn’t bid, someone else would win. Someone expecting a giant-ass secret out of him. Why the hell hadn’t they all devised a backup secret?
Wait. He had a backup plan. A different line he could have cited from the book. One that made him one hundred percent vulnerable.
Just as the auctioneer’s voice signaled the bids were approaching their climax, Ms. Birdie glided gracefully next to Sophie and laid a hand on her arm. As if startled, Sophie flinched.
Stone held his breath as the two women exchanged a few hushed words.
“I have ninety-five going once… going twice... and—”
“Wait,” Stone said. He moved to Isabella. Took the microphone. Looked at Sophie. “I have one more line from the book Love Hacked that I’d like to recite, if that’s okay with the audience.”
He paused, swallowing hard.
Applause rang out.
Stone made eye contact with Sophie and slowly repeated his favorite line from Penny Reid’s novel. “I don’t want to learn how to live without you.”
“One hundred.” Sophie’s voice rang out, her paddle slicing the air with decisive energy.
His chest heaved in relief. He glanced at Isabella, willing her to bring her gavel down.
She didn’t. She couldn’t. Because the bidders went wild.
“Do we have one ten?” Isabella asked.
“One twenty-five,” came a shout from across the crowd. Not Sophie.
Silence fell over the room.
Stone’s eyes locked with Sophie’s, imploring her silently. Wishing he’d bid an even higher amount on her T-shirts. An amount so outlandishly outlandish it would obliterate her common sense that was no doubt telling her to stop bidding. That the money could be better spent elsewhere.
“One ninety-five,” Sophie declared sharply, erupting the crowd with more excited chatter.
“Two hundred,” rang out a new voice, cold and clear.
What the… Stone scanned the sea of faces, finally resting his gaze on a woman in the back. Her smile was tinged with an enigmatic allure. Why was she bidding on him?
“Two fifty,” Sophie countered firmly, her paddle high in defiance.
“We have two fifty. Can I hear two seventy-five?” Isabella said, seizing on the sudden quiet.
Stone glanced at Isabella, appalled at the amount of money she was egging the bidders to spend.
Isabella didn’t look the least bit guilty. Her eyes twinkled with the thrill of the auctioneer’s chase.
“Two seventy-five,” someone said, causing a new avalanche of bids.
Stone’s heart pounded. He’d been a damn fool to put himself in this situation. Exposed, vulnerable, his future dangling on the strings of women drunk with champagne and unlimited bank balances.
“Two eighty,” came the counter from the woman in black, her voice carrying a challenge.
Isabella smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a real bidding war on our hands. How much are these fine participants willing to pay to uncover Mr. X’s tantalizing secret? A man who did promise to reimburse you if you’re not impressed with what he shares.” She glanced at Stone and winked.
This seemed to shake loose the inhibitions of every last bidder in the room, and the bidding frenzy escalated.
As the bids soared, Stone’s mind wandered back to his childhood in the orphanage, where even the most minor luxuries were out of reach. He remembered dreaming of simple pleasures—a lunch packed with Hostess Cupcakes, Oscar Mayer Lunchables, and name-brand sodas—things other children took for granted. He had been grateful at the orphanage for the meals provided, but they had been a stark reminder of what he didn’t have.
It wasn’t until Clarabelle had taken in him and his brothers that he had experienced the joy of choosing his school supplies and clothes, not those given out of charity. The luxury of choice had been a profound gift, yet here he was, witnessing his secret being auctioned off for sums he once couldn’t even fathom.
“One million,” Sophie said, her voice firm and resolute.
Stone blinked. Had he heard her correctly? That was half of the amount he’d bid on her silent auction bundle. This woman, who’d quit college and worked odd jobs to make ends meet for both herself and Poppie, was now giving up half of a windfall to buy him. Was it because she loved him? Or had she gotten carried away? Was she trying to keep the bidding going in the hopes of making ridiculous amounts of money for the charity? Was that what Ms. Birdie had talked to her about? Told her to bid when it looked like he was about to be sold. Was it a calculated risk on Ms. Birdie’s part that someone would outbid Sophie?
It didn’t matter. Sophie had bid on him. He’d worry about why later. Hell, he’d happily reimburse her.
No new bid rang out.
Isabella, looking as shocked as he felt, picked up her gavel. “Going once, going twice, and sold.”
As the gavel slammed down, Stone’s gaze found Sophie’s. Her eyes were a little wild, his no doubt the same.
Applause burst forth like a storm, and Stone stood there, unsure what to do.
The indecision was fleeting because Isabella’s voice reclaimed the room’s attentiveness. “Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the stage for one final spectacle.”
The lights dimmed and then flared dramatically. During this time, Stone was helped off the stage by Ziggy.
“Let’s welcome the authors whose works inspired this evening’s auction.” A line of women stepped through the curtain.
Stone swiveled, searching for Sophie, certain she’d come backstage to claim her prize. Well, if not certain, at least hopeful.
“… Aggie the Horrible versus…”
Behind him, he heard Isabella announcing authors and books.
“ Emily Henry, Funny Story . J. J. Knight, Single Dad on Top . Lucy Score, Things We Left Behind . Lauren Layne, Made in Manhattan . Pippa Grant, The Bride’s Runaway Billionaire .”
Where was Sophie? With her credentials, she’d be able to come backstage if she wanted.
“Annika Martin, Most Eligible Billionaire , Emma Chase, Tangled , Claire Kingsley, Falling For My Enemy , Sara L. Hudson, Anyone But The Billionaire , and Penny Reid, Love Hacked . Let’s give them all a round of applause.”
The cheers were deafening, the atmosphere electric with admiration and excitement. Behind the authors, larger-than-life cardboard cutouts were placed, each depicting the fictional heroes whose personas had been brought to life that night.
Before Stone could go in search of Sophie, Ziggy shoved a T-shirt at him.
“We need to get this on you ASAP,” Ziggy said as he removed Stone’s tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Stone knocked his hands away. “I’ve got it.” He quickly undressed and tugged the shirt over his head.
“Bachelors, please return to the stage and stand next to your cardboard cutout.”
“That’s your cue,” Ziggy said when Stone didn’t budge.
Each participant re-emerged onto the stage with waves. They were now wearing their he said T-shirts that Sophie had designed.
From where he stood, Stone couldn’t see Sophie in the audience. Was she waiting backstage for him?
The crowd hooted and whistled, a cacophony of appreciation for the literary and the living embodiments of beloved characters.
Amidst the applause, Ms. Birdie took the microphone, her voice commanding the room. “And let us not forget the brilliant mind behind this year’s theme, the talented Sophie E. Clark.” The crowd clapped and that’s when Stone finally saw the professional daydreamer herself as she was ushered onto the stage, a blush coloring her cheeks.
Unfortunately, once she took her place next to Ms. Birdie, all he could see of Sophie was her back.
Ms. Birdie continued, “Thanks to Sophie’s innovative idea, between the silent auction and the bachelor auction, we’ve raised a tentative total of…” She paused, glancing down at the note handed to her, “An astonishing $8.9 million for our charity!”
Stone stepped away from his assigned spot and managed to position himself where he could see Sophie’s profile.
Her smile was tentative as she stood beside Ms. Birdie. The audience’s appreciation was palpable.
“Now ladies, if you purchased a bachelor, they will be in contact with you tomorrow to set up your date. Please stop by the cashier table and pick up your receipts for your purchases.”
While Ms. Birdie continued to explain the finer details, Stone was swept along by the tide of bachelors leaving the stage. They were all apparently anxious to exit through the back door before being bombarded by the women who had not won them at auction.
Stone looked back, searching for Sophie, but his view was obscured by the moving bodies and shifting shadows. The next thing he knew he stood outside on the sidewalk. He turned to go back into the venue, but the door had locked.
“There they are,” a woman shouted, and a gaggle of women rounded the corner and ran toward them.
“Hurry. Get in,” one of the bachelors shouted at Stone.
Swallowing his frustration, Stone jumped into a limo right as the driver pulled out into traffic.
Sitting beside the single-dad bachelor, Stone pulled out his phone and texted Sophie.
Meet me on the rooftop. — Mr. X