Chapter 9
CALLUM
Istood backstage with Drew, watching the chaos unfold through the gap in the curtain. My brother was practically bouncing on his heels like a kid waiting for his turn on a roller coaster.
“This is going to be great,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
“Your definition of great is severely skewed,” I muttered.
“Come on. Live a little. When’s the last time you let loose and had fun?”
“I have fun.”
“Sitting in your empty mansion drinking expensive whiskey alone doesn’t count as fun.”
I shot him a look. “I don’t drink alone.”
“You literally texted me yesterday that you were having a nightcap. Alone. In your big empty house.”
“Helping out with the store has taken up all my extra time,” I said, shrugging. “And we launched the wedding company before that. I suppose it has been a while since I’ve let loose.”
I turned my attention back to the stage. Another bachelor was being introduced—some guy who owned a chain of gyms. The women in the audience were already getting loud.
“There’s at least two women out there I don’t want to see,” I said.
Drew laughed. “Just two?”
“Okay, maybe more than two. But definitely two that I’m actively avoiding.”
“Chantilly?”
“Obviously.”
“Who’s the other one?”
“The woman who just saved me from Chantilly,” I admitted.
Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “I like her. She’s got fire.”
“She hates me.”
“Even better.”
“She thinks I’m an asshole.”
“You kind of are, though.”
I glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”
“Truth and justice.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Once you go out there and raise a ton of money for charity, she’ll forget she hates you. She might even want to thank you. Wink wink.”
I rolled my eyes. Now he was just doing it on purpose.
The gym owner’s auction wrapped up at a respectable fifteen thousand dollars. The crowd erupted in applause. The guy looked thrilled as he walked off stage. A few more bachelors went up, each one getting varying degrees of enthusiasm from the audience.
Then Jeff Connors was called to the stage.
I watched through the curtain as he strutted out there like he was God’s gift to women. The response was tepid at best. A few polite claps. Some scattered cheers that sounded forced. When the bidding started, only three paddles went up.
“Ouch,” Drew said beside me.
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” I said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice.
The bidding stalled at eight thousand dollars. The auctioneer tried to drum up more enthusiasm, but the crowd wasn’t having it. Finally, someone took pity on him and the auction closed at nine thousand.
Jeff walked off stage looking significantly less cocky than when he’d walked on.
“That was painful to watch,” Drew said.
“I enjoyed every second of it. Guys like that give the rest of us a bad name.”
“Agreed,” Drew said. “At least we don’t have to do business with people like him.”
“Dad would never let someone like that through the door.”
“Up next, Drew Blackwell,” the auctioneer’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“That’s me.” Drew straightened his bow tie and shot me a grin. “Watch and learn, brother.”
He walked out onto the stage like he owned the place. The crowd went wild. Women were already waving their paddles before the auctioneer even started the bidding.
I watched through the curtain as Drew worked the stage, walking back and forth like he was modeling on a runway. He stopped center stage, struck a pose, then turned and gave the audience his profile. The ladies ate it up. Whistles and cheers filled the room.
“We’ll start the bidding at five thousand dollars,” the auctioneer said.
Ten paddles shot into the air.
The bidding climbed rapidly—fifteen, eighteen, twenty-two. Drew was hamming it up, blowing kisses to the crowd, flexing his arms. He was absolutely ridiculous, and the women loved him for it.
The final bid came in at forty-eight thousand dollars. Drew took a bow, winked at his winner—a woman in her thirties who looked like she’d just won the lottery—and strutted off stage.
“Beat that,” he said.
“Callum Blackwell,” the auctioneer announced.
I walked out onto that stage with the confidence of a man who knew he was going to get the biggest bid of the night. The crowd erupted the moment they saw me. I could feel the energy, the anticipation. All those eyes on me.
Good. Let them look.
I wasn’t about to let Drew beat me. Forty-eight thousand was impressive, but I knew I could do better. I had to do better. It was a matter of pride. Brotherly competition.
I stopped at the center of the stage and flashed my most charming smile. The one that had gotten me out of trouble more times than I could count. The crowd of women swooned.
“We’ll start the bidding at five thousand dollars,” the auctioneer said.
At least twenty paddles shot into the air.
I walked slowly across the stage, making eye contact with different sections of the audience.
A redhead in the front row was practically vibrating with excitement.
A blonde in the third row looked like she was ready to throw her entire savings account at this.
I gave them all a smile, a wink, just enough attention to keep them interested.
The bidding climbed fast—ten, fifteen, twenty-five, thirty-two. Then I was already past Drew’s number and we were just getting started. I loosened my bow tie slightly, just enough to look casual but still put together. The crowd went wild.
I was feeling pretty damn good about myself when I heard a voice that made my blood run cold.
“Sixty thousand!”
I turned my head and there she was. Chantilly, in that ridiculous peacock hat, waving her paddle in the air like she was flagging down a rescue.
Fuck.
I kept the smile plastered on my face, but inside I was screaming. Anyone but her. Literally anyone. I would have taken Jeff Connors’s mother at this point.
Chantilly’s voice was dominating the room. Every time someone bid, she outbid them. And then I saw Victoria. She was standing right beside Chantilly, leaning in close, whispering in her ear. Urging her on.
Our eyes met.
The look on her face told me everything I needed to know. This was payback. Revenge for the sprinkler incident. She was going to make sure I went home with the one person I’d been actively avoiding all night.
Clever girl.
Game on.
“Seventy-five thousand!” someone in the back called out.
“Eighty!” Chantilly countered immediately.
I started pointing at other women in the crowd, making eye contact, giving them encouraging nods. Come hither smiles, a little hip action. Whatever it took. I used mental telepathy. Don’t let her win. Bid on me. Save me from this fate worse than death.
Every bid was negated by Chantilly’s stupid paddle.
Victoria was still beside her. I could see the satisfaction on her face. She was enjoying this. Enjoying watching me squirm. I could see other women in the audience doing mental calculations, weighing whether any dinner date was worth that much.
I tried one more time, gesturing to a group of women near the front who’d been enthusiastic earlier. They could pool their money. I’d go out with all of them. I’d let them see it. Anything.
I was running out of options. The auctioneer was looking around the room, waiting to see if anyone else would jump in. A few paddles twitched but stayed down. Two hundred thousand dollars was insane. It was generous and amazing for the charity, but it was also completely, utterly insane.
“Two hundred thousand going once,” the auctioneer said.
I looked at Victoria again. She was smiling now, a small, satisfied smile that made me want to both throttle her and kiss her at the same time. This was her victory, and she knew it.
I briefly considered jumping off the stage and making a run for it. Drew would understand. Dad might kill me, but Drew would understand.
“Two hundred thousand going twice,” the auctioneer said.
Even I was speechless. The crowd murmured. Everyone stared at Chantilly like she was crazy. She totally was, and they were just going to let her purchase me?
“Sold!” the auctioneer’s voice rang out. “To the woman in the peacock outfit for two hundred thousand dollars!”
The crowd erupted in applause. Chantilly was jumping up and down, waving her paddle like she’d just won the lottery.
My stomach sank.
I walked off stage to thunderous applause, but I barely heard it. All I could think about was the fact that I was going to have to sit through an entire dinner with Chantilly. She was going to film the whole thing. She was going to treat our dinner like it was the beginning of our epic love story.
And it was all Victoria’s fault.