6. Levi
Levi
I tug at my suspenders for the hundredth time, pacing the dimly lit staging area just behind The Plaza’s grand ballroom and drain the last of my whiskey, neat. A drop of sweat rolls down my spine, and I mop my brow with the tiniest monogrammed cocktail napkin known to man. I can’t believe I’m about to parade out in front of an overflowing ballroom under blaring lights, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be tonight. Because she’s here.
Somehow, I managed to avoid Zoe for five years, but one random run-in at a bar in Soho and now five days without laying eyes on her, without so much as a glimpse of her dazzling smile or a saucy comeback flung my way, and it’s like the sun has set and hasn’t risen.
Pure torture, that’s what it’s felt like. And not just because I want to sleep with her again, although hell knows I do. But because seeing her confirmed a feeling I’ve tried to ignore for years. And now? I want to win her heart. For good. Despite the fact I’m still not good enough for her and likely never will be. Despite the way Alex will have my ass for even looking twice at his little sister. Despite the way things ended the last time I let my feelings for this woman get the best of me.
And the way I’ll win her over? Not sure about that yet, but talking to her tonight is step one.
Zoe’s mingling in the black-tie crowd on the other side of this wall. She might even be sipping a glass of champagne right now. One she’d have no qualms about tossing in my face if I deserved it. Which is one of the dozens of things I love about her. Zoe’s fearless. Always has been.
For as long as I’ve known her, which, for years, was simply as Alex’s little sister, Zoe’s never been one to pull punches. She’s never lacked confidence. But her bluntness is always tempered with compassion. Her quick wit is always softened with grace and good intentions. Which is probably why, from the moment I heard she was going to medical school, I knew Zoe would make a great physician.
But what’s more important, at least at the moment, is there’s no way in hell the Zoe I know would be here tonight if she didn’t want to be. But she is. She came knowing full well I’m one of the guys to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. That was Brock’s stipulation. That Libby tells Zoe and gives her the chance to opt out.
And I thought for sure she would. But she surprised me yet again. Even if the odds are good she only came to watch me make a fool of myself, I’ll take it. Because no matter the reason, she’s here. Now, I just need to pray I have a chance to talk to her before she slips out or before whoever the winning bidder is drags me away to talk about our ‘date.’
I pull out my phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. I should text Alex. Give him a heads up I saw his sister. That she’s here tonight. That I’m planning to—what exactly? Chase after the girl of my dreams. Who also happens to be his little sister? The same one I hooked up with at his wedding and then acted like a complete ass to at brunch the next morning?
Hey man, ran into Zoe the other night…
Delete.
Remember how you said it’s been forever since I’ve seen Zoe? Since your wedding? Yeah, about that…
Delete.
So, funny story. Zoe’s at this charity auction tonight and…
Delete.
“Shit,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. There’s no good way to tell your best friend you’re in love with his sister. Especially when there’s no way in hell he’ll believe you since you’ve avoided her like the plague for the last five years and barely committed to coming to dinner to celebrate her board certification.
And even if you could convince him you were serious, he’d probably threaten to cut off your balls with a dull knife because you have a well-earned reputation as a strictly one-night kind of guy.
And the cherry on top for why Alex will think I’ve lost my mind? Because if he were to ask his little sister what’s up, she’d no doubt happily rattle off exactly why she has every reason to hate my guts.
Hey, I need to tell you something…
I stare at the words until the screen dims. Alex was there when I barely graduated high school, when my old man kicked me out, when I made it through the academy by the skin of my teeth. Hell, Alex is more family than my actual family. But what happened that night at his wedding? He doesn’t even know the tip of the iceberg. Not even a censored version. If he did, he’d have rearranged my face with his fist a long time ago. And now? The truth could end everything.
The phone buzzes in my hand, making me jump. It’s a text from Jake, asking if I’m ready to ‘strut my stuff.’ I pocket the phone without responding. Alex will have to wait. First, I need to see if I even have a shot with Zoe.
“Reyes?” the coordinator calls out, looking up from her clipboard to search those of us assembled.
“Here.”
“Ready?”
Not by a mile. I mean, I work out hard six days a week and could likely snag an underwear model contract as long as they didn’t want to show my face, but I’ve never paraded down a catwalk half-naked. But I’m willing to do it, if it means a chance to talk to Zoe again.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Great, you’re on deck.”
It’s no more than a couple of minutes as I wait my turn, although it feels like forever. I wipe my moist palms down my turnout pants and mop my brow again. Why the hell does it feel hotter than hell in here? The Plaza’s air conditioning is clearly not keeping up with the crowd. Or maybe, it’s just me, sweating like I just ran a ladder drill in full gear on an August afternoon.
Before I know it, the guy before me has been “sold” to thunderous applause as tonight’s emcee, Ashley Adams, the popular host of Rise and Shine , a national morning show here in Manhattan, announces what a great start to the evening it’s been.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen…” she says, her voice quieting the crowd.
Shit, that’s my cue. I nearly trip over my boots getting to my mark, a small, taped X on the carpet.
“Let’s keep the bids coming. Next up is Firefighter Levi Reyes of Ladder 24!”
I swallow hard and force a smile as I stride out around the heavy velvet curtain, ignoring the way my heart tries to pound its way out of my exposed chest. Fortunately, I have a task that commands all my attention—scanning the roomful of black ties and evening gowns, looking for a certain honey-blonde.
“Standing six-foot-two, this hero of New York’s bravest makes saving lives look good, doesn’t he ladies?” Ashley pauses for appreciative whistles. “But there’s more to Firefighter Reyes than his obvious assets . When asked about his ideal woman, Levi, here, described someone intelligent and driven—” She glances down at the card in her hand. “His exact words were ‘smart enough to challenge me and ambitious enough to chase her dreams.’”
Earlier this week, I filled out that questionnaire with Zoe in mind. How could I not? Since I laid eyes on her again, I haven’t been able to think of anyone else. Sure, I didn’t deserve her then and still don’t now, but the difference is, now I’m willing to put myself out there, to have the balls to let her make the choice and shoot me down rather than not even step up to the plate.
Suddenly, my eyes land on her, and the sight of Dr. Zoe Meyer dressed to the nines hits me like a wall of heat from a five-alarm blaze. Her hair is up, just as it was at Alex and Kristina’s wedding five years ago. But it’s the low-cut red dress with matching red lipstick that’s a lethal combination. Even at this distance.
The sight of her is so distracting I forget to walk until Ashley prompts me to “let the folks see what they’re bidding on” with a wave of her hand toward the walkway extending down the middle of the ballroom.
I lurch forward as Ashley continues. “And get this, ladies. His perfect first date? Dancing under the stars on a rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen and talking until sunrise.”
My gaze swings back to Zoe, and I catch the way her eyes widen as round as saucers before they dart away, and she hastily drains the champagne in her flute.
The crowd aws, but I’m too busy picturing that night. Remembering how the city lights sparkled around us. How this woman felt in my arms as we swayed to the music. How we talked for hours about everything and nothing after we’d slipped away to the coat closet. How that night felt surreal on so many levels.
I have to look away as I reach the end of the extension.
“Levi also mentioned his dream girl would be someone who makes him laugh. A woman who’s not afraid to call him on his bullshit. One who stands up for herself and others, and who looks amazing in a cocktail dress.”
There are more appreciative murmurs from the crowd as I spin to return to the stage and risk another glance at Zoe. She’s staring right at me now, those red lips parted. Yeah, I might as well have written “Dr. Zoe Meyer” on that form in big bold letters.
“And what does our brave firefighter have to offer in return? Besides the obvious?” Ashley gestures at my bare chest as I pass her, drawing more whistles. “He promises respect and an unforgettable evening together to the winning bidder. Now, who’d like a chance to see if Firefighter Reyes lives up to his romantic side? Let’s start the bidding at five hundred dollars!”
A paddle shoots up immediately. Then another. The numbers climb steadily as I stand there dumbfounded.
“Eighteen hundred!” calls a blonde in the front, fanning herself with her paddle.
It’s quiet for a minute before Ashley starts the countdown. “Going once…”
My shoulders tense. Eighteen hundred for the children’s burn unit. That’s respectable. And now that I know where Zoe’s seated, I can track her down once I’m done up here.
“Two thousand dollars!”
My head snaps up so fast I nearly give myself whiplash.
That was her voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.
Sure enough, there she is, paddle number 42 raised high in the air.
My entire world shifts on its axis. The crowd murmurs. Our eyes meet, and the challenge in Zoe’s fiery hazel gaze makes me forget I’m standing here half-naked. The entire room fall aways, and my pulse thunders in my ears as Ashley waits for a beat.
“Going once… Going twice…”
The rapid kick of my heartbeat drowns out everything else until the gavel falls.
“Sold to paddle 42 in a killer red dress!”