Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
SOPHIE
“You sure about this?” Michael still looks annoyed as I walk onto the stage. He’s conveniently switched off his microphone so he can annoy me. “We’d raise a lot more money for kids like Benji if you let me auction you off for dinner.”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, even though I’m not. There was a moment back there while I was watching the video with Benji that I wondered whether I’m doing the right thing.
But people have told me they’ll bid. I asked everybody at each table if they would like a daily forecast and they all thought it was a great idea.
Even the frat lawyer guys at table two.
“News and Sports raised a hundred thousand dollars between them,” Michael says. “Let’s see what you can do.” Then he points at the front of the stage and I walk over, making sure I smile and look confident, because I want this to work.
I need it to.
“We’re on lot ten of the auction, ladies and gentlemen,” Michael says, having turned his mic back on. “Featuring Sophie West, everybody’s favorite weather girl.”
I keep smiling, even though I’m a meteorologist and not a weather girl and I know Michael said it to rile me.
“Now this one’s a little different,” Michael continues. “Instead of dinner with the girl of everybody’s dreams, she’s offering a three month personalized daily forecast for the lucky bidder.” He lowers his voice. “Of course I’d prefer dinner but…”
Everybody laughs, so I laugh too. Then I turn and roll my eyes at him in what I hope is a cute Meg Ryan kind of way, though my intentions are definitely more deadly.
“So let’s have our first bid. Shall we start at ten thousand?” he shouts out.
He started the other lots at twenty. I’m pretty sure nobody has missed that. And there’s a pause that’s way too long and I start to sweat underneath the blinding spotlight. Maybe I made a mistake.
“Ten,” somebody calls out and I exhale heavily.
“Fifteen,” another voice counters. It’s hard to see anything standing here on stage. I blink to get acclimatized to the lights.
“Twenty.” I recognize that voice. It’s Ava’s. I smile harder because I know she won’t let me fail.
“Thirty.” That voice is closer. From table two. The guy who was sitting next to me during dessert – the handsy one. He looks smug.
“Forty,” Ava counters.
“Fifty.” The lawyer smiles lazily. I squint and try to look in Ava’s direction, shaking my head. I don’t want her to bid anymore. Myles already spent a fortune on the table and I don’t have the money to reimburse her if she goes over forty.
Handsy guy smiles at me. I start to reconcile myself to the fact I’ll be giving him weather forecasts for the next three months.
At least it isn’t dinner.
“Okay then, any more bids?” Michael says because the back and forth bidding has stopped. “I guess—”
“One hundred thousand.”
A gasp goes through the crowd. I cover my eyes, trying to see who it is. Please don’t let it be a jetsetter who flies to a different country every day. Forecasting that’ll take up most of my free time.
“Do we have any takers for one hundred and ten?” Michael asks. He doesn’t seem very excited by the high bid.
“Going once,” he says. “Twice. And sold to the gentleman in the middle.” Michael nods to one of the production staff who walks to the table where Ava and Myles are sitting.
Did Myles bid for me? That’s incredibly sweet yet I’m going to owe him forever. I’ll have to babysit until Charlie’s thirty.
“Your name, sir?”
Even this part of the auction is over the top. The production assistant goes to the highest bidder with a microphone and they have a fun conversation with Michael.
“Liam Salinger.”
I swear my heart misses a beat. I can’t see more than shadows beyond the blinding lights, but I try anyway.
“Mr. Salinger,” Michael says, which is a bit weird because he’s called every other bidder by their first name. “Tell me, do you have a particular interest in meteorology?”
A wave of laughter ripples through the ballroom.
“I’ve always been a fan of the weather,” Liam says. His voice is strangely soft, even though it’s echoing from the sound system. “Ignore it at your peril. I think Noah’s friends in the bible learned that the hard way.”
“Indeed,” Michael says, forced jollity lifting his tone. “So you’ll be waking up every morning to the beautiful Sophie.”
“To her forecasts, yes,” Liam corrects. “And I’m very much looking forward to them.”
“Let’s see what Sophie has to say.” Michael beckons me over. I lift my dress to avoid making a spectacular trip on stage and join him.
He smells of Sauvage and smarm.
“Congratulations, Sophie,” he says, not quite meeting my eye. “How excited are you to be sending forecasts to Mr. Salinger every morning?”
I take a deep breath. “Hugely excited,” I say, trying to ignore how weird my voice sounds through the speakers.
I’m used to hearing it from the television, but I sound different here in this big room.
“And I’d like to say a huge thank you to Mr. Salinger for donating so much money to such a wonderful cause.
I’ll do my best to make the sun shine on him every day. ”
The crowd laughs again, and Michael nods at me, which is my cue to leave the stage. I walk carefully down the steps, my satin dress still gathered in my hand. As soon as I reach the bottom I hear a voice.
“Sophie?”
I feel dizzy. I have to hold onto the back of a chair to stop myself from falling, before sliding my behind into the seat. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?” he asks. “You look a little sick.
“No, no, I’m fine.” I don’t look up. Mostly because I don’t want him to see the pained look on my face. “Thank you for your bid. I appreciate it.”
“I wasn’t sure you would.” He shifts his feet. From my vantage point I get a close up of the beautifully soft leather brogues he’s wearing. I can’t begin to imagine how much they cost.
“Why not?” I ask, still studying his feet.
“Because you don’t like me.”
I blink. “That’s not true.”
“So why won’t you even look at me?” he asks me.
“I just…” I still can’t believe he spent all that money.
“Sophie, please look at me.” His voice is as soft as the leather of his shoes. And of course I look up. I’m not sure I could stop myself. It’s like he’s talking directly to my muscles, overriding my nervous system.
And when my eyes meet his I see genuine concern there.
“You don’t have to send me daily weather forecasts,” he tells me. “I just wanted to bid on something for the charity.”
“It’s a good charity,” I tell him.
“Yeah. That video at the start…” he trails off. “Anyway, they asked me to see you to sort out the details, but let’s call it quits.” He lifts a brow at me and goes to walk away.
I stand up. “Liam,” I call out to him. He stops mid walk and looks at me again.
“Yes?”
“Why did you bid on my lot? Why not somebody else’s? There are some amazing ones tonight. You could have gotten a vacation on a yacht or a trip to the Bahamas.”
He runs his thumb along his chin as though considering my question. Then he takes a step toward me and all logical thought goes out of my brain. I don’t know when I started to find him so achingly attractive, but now that I do I can’t get it out of my mind.
It’s not just the way he looks at me. It’s that he’s different. Honest. I can hear Michael’s voice in the background, schmoozing the audience and the difference between him and Liam couldn’t be more stark.
Yes, he can be annoying. But I think more than anything it’s because I can’t control my responses to him. I’m used to being calm but whenever he’s around I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster that’s speeding out of control.
It’s frightening. And exhilarating.
“I thought I could help a friend at the same time as supporting a charity,” he says quietly. “I assumed you wouldn’t want those lawyer guys to have the winning bid. And Ava already looked awkward so I took over.”
“You bid way above the value of my lot.”
His lip quirks. “If you say so.”
“I’ll do the forecasts for you,” I tell him, because there’s no way I’m letting him spend that much money and have nothing to show for it.
“I told you already you didn’t have to.”
“But I want to,” I say. “It’s for charity.”
He pulls at his collar and my eyes immediately hone in on the dip at the bottom of his neck. His shirt is unbuttoned, his bow tie hanging loose.
“Okay then,” he says. “How do we play this?”
“I just need an itinerary from you,” I tell him. “You can ask your assistant to send it to me if you’d like. Then I’ll give you a personalized forecast based on your location and plans.”
“I’ll send it to you,” he says.
“That works.”
“I won’t always know where I’m going to be each week though. It’ll mostly vary between here and New York, but I have to travel elsewhere sometimes.”
“That’s okay. You can just let me know when you know. Sunday evenings would be great for your weekly plans. That way I’ll have enough time to do the forecast and send it to you each morning. There’s no point in me sending it to you halfway through the day.”
“And what will I do with this forecast?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips.
“Know whether to carry an umbrella I guess.” I find myself smiling back at him. “Or whether to run outside or indoors on a treadmill.”
His brows dip. “You think I need to start running?”
“I don’t know.” I try not to smile as he looks down to check his perfectly flat stomach. “The whole point is that the forecast is meant to help you make good decisions.”
He starts to laugh.
“What?” I say, almost grinning because his laughter is contagious.
“If I knew a daily forecast from you would help me make good decisions I’d have paid for it long ago.”
“I meant decisions about whether to be inside or outside,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.
“I know that,” he teases. “But maybe I like the idea of you being my decision guru.”
“So we’ll start on Monday,” I tell him, because I don’t think I can deal with him being sweet much longer. Annoying, yes. Even charming. But sweet…
That’s too much.
“Sounds good.” He nods. “I’ll send you my itinerary on Sunday. Or at least what I think I’ll be doing.”
“Thank you.” And it’s weird, but knowing I’ll have a detailed plan of his week makes me feel like there’s a connection that shouldn’t be there. Then something occurs to me. Something he said a few minutes ago.
“Liam, when you said you were bidding to help a friend, did you mean it?”
He looks surprised. “Of course I did.”
“And I’m the friend?” I clarify. Because it wasn’t long ago that we were at each other’s throats.
“That would be the obvious conclusion.”
“Okay then.”
He tips his head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” I shrug.
His eyes dip to my dress then back to my face. “I’ll see you later,” he tells me.
I’m still smiling as I turn around and walk back to the ballroom, where I’m supposed to spend the night talking with our donors and representing the station. Why is it that I like the sound of being Liam’s friend?
It’s only when I see Ava and Lauren waving at me across the dancefloor that the smile slips. Because something else occurs to me.
You don’t lie to friends.
And yet I lied to Liam once.
The thought pulls me out of my nice, woolly feelings. Because once he finds out about that I’m not sure he’ll be so sweet.