Chapter 3 Delaney
DELANEY
ONE YEAR LATER
My nerves were tightly wound in my belly, and Damaris, my best friend and venue manager of the Charles B. Williams Cultural and Civic Museum, was not helping matters.
“You look so beautiful, Del. I mean, you always look beautiful, but damn. Put you on a ballgown, some expensive shoes and jewelry, and call you Glam Queen!” she declared, snapping her fingers.
“Now only if she would stop looking like she has a stick up her butt,” Yogi Valentine, my executive assistant, declared.
“She looks terrified,” Erin, one of our staff, proclaimed.
“She does.” Yogi and Damaris agreed.
If they only knew the half. I was ready to run to the restroom and cry like a baby. Tonight was the annual fundraiser for our museum. Every year, Damaris came up with a new theme to implement, and this year’s theme was an auction.
Twelve of us were being auctioned off to the highest bidder for an experience date.
The person who won the bid would be responsible for paying the cost of the bid and the cost of the experience.
Among those being auctioned tonight was a surgeon, a bank manager, a bookstore owner, a medical director, and a car dealership owner.
I was terrified that no one would bid on me, and terrified that if someone did, they might be unattractive, have bad manners or breath, or extremely boring.
I had been embracing making my own decisions since the divorce, and this didn’t feel like that. My anxieties were swirling all around within me, and I just wanted this nightmare to be over.
“What’s wrong?” Damaris asked.
“What’s wrong is that I’m being forced to participate in something that I wanted no involvement with.”
“Well, you are the museum director. It’s only fair that you get involved since it is your organization’s fundraiser, and other community leaders and professionals in our community are doing the same. Besides, Mr. Williams was ecstatic when he learned you were participating,” Yogi stated.
That was the only reason I had agreed was because the museum owner learned about it before I did.
In fact, that was how I learned about it.
Mr. Williams stopped by my office to share that he had just spoken with Damaris, and she shared with him that I was going to be one of the experiences in the auction.
When she came to my office a half hour later, I couldn’t tell her no.
I was furious because she knew exactly what she was doing.
It was several months later now, and I was facing the dreaded night.
“Hey, who cuts your paychecks, me or her?” I asked Yogi, pointing at Damaris, who was smiling like a kid in a candy store.
“That’s beside the point, Boss Lady. You do need to do this, and you’re going to be just fine,” Yogi quipped.
“Hey, ladies. It’s time to get this show on the road. Everyone is lined up in the conference room to get ready to go on stage. We’re just waiting on you, Ms. Synclair,” Chase Daughtry, another staff member, stated, sticking his head in my office.
I pressed my sweaty palms against my belly and inhaled deeply. I held it for several seconds. I held it for so long that Damaris declared, “Hey! Hey! None of that. What are you trying to do? Pass out so you can get out of this?”
“If you do, just know that we’re dragging you by those beautiful Jimmy Choo stilettos on that stage and auctioning you off anyway.”
“Mm-hmm.” Damaris agreed with Yogi.
“Okay, okay, already. Damn. D, can I have a word with you first?”
“Sure, baby. Guys, go out. We’ll be there in a sec,” Damaris stated.
When the door closed, she turned back to me and asked, “What are you afraid of, honey?”
“You already know.”
“No, I mean what are you really afraid of? I don’t want to hear about the person being boring, unattractive, or having bad breath and all the other reasons you’ve cited the last several weeks.
I want the truth. What are you really afraid of here, Delaney?
” she asked, patting her chest where her heart was.
I closed my eyes and willed the tears not to come.
“What if I like this person and they like me and they want more than one date? What if they really like me and we start something and become involved?”
“Honey, what if?” she asked, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them.
“What if it doesn’t work out and I’m made a fool of again? I cannot tolerate being hurt.”
“Uh-uh. Don’t you dare start this, because you’re just going to get emotional and ruin your makeup.”
“I know. I’m so scared, D.”
“Don’t be. Just go out there first. You haven’t even procured a bidder, and you’re worried about the wedding.” She chuckled.
“What if they don’t bid on me?”
“They will. I have strategically placed someone out there to bid on anyone who doesn’t get a bid,” she declared, winking at me.
“Damaris Stevens!”
“Just kidding. Seriously, though, just go out there and be beautiful. When you do go on a date, look at it as a onetime commitment. Have fun and think nothing else about it. You owe yourself that.”
I smiled as someone knocked on the door. “It’s time,” Erin called out.
“Come on, let’s go,” Damaris stated, tugging me toward the door.
I walked into the conference room and greeted our other guests.
“My apologies for being late, ladies and gentlemen, but I was having a mini meltdown in my office.”
“Oh, Delaney, you’re going to be fine. This is an awesome thing that the museum is doing, and I’m excited to help out,” Lloyd Simmons, the owner of the local mall, stated.
“Me too, but like Delaney, I did have a meltdown today on the way over,” Charity Cole, the bookstore owner, confessed.
And just like that, the entire room started talking about their experiences before tonight and their expectations of the night.
One by one, Erin and Chase called participants’ names and led us to the stage where Damaris and Yogi introduced each person one at a time.
The auctioneer would then begin the bidding process on the person standing on stage.
I watched as the bids went on and on, and I was happy for each person who received excellent bids. I was definitely happy for the museum, but my nerves grew tighter the closer it came to my time to be called.
Damaris called my name last, and she had already prepared me for that. I stepped out onto the stage under the sparkling lights. I could only see the first few rows of tables with guests, but not any of the guests in the middle of the auditorium or at the rear.
I listened as Damaris introduced me and hyped up who I was.
That was what besties were for, but this wasn’t the time for that.
The auctioneer we hired started the bid at ten-thousand-dollars as he had done everyone else’s.
I listened as the bid climbed, but then it jumped from sixteen grand to forty grand.
From there, the bid continued to rise, and my heart stammered hard in my chest.
It continued until it stopped at two-hundred-fifty grand.
I was shocked and rooted to the floor, wondering who had that type of money, and why did they want a date with me so badly.
My bid was the highest bid out of all the bachelors and bachelorettes of the night.
The second closest bid was one-hundred grand.
I left the stage feeling stunned when Damaris motioned for me to do so.
Despite the chatter between Chase, Erin, and Yogi, I heard nothing.
I couldn’t fathom who’d spend that sort of money to have a date with me, even if it was for the museum.
Although everyone was happy for me, including the other business leaders, I had a sick feeling that something good wasn’t coming my way.
“Are you ready to meet your date?” Damaris asked twenty minutes later.
I knew she had been thanking the other guests, pairing them with their dates, and checking in with the staff tasked with taking payments for tonight’s auction.
“Girl, yes, because I cannot imagine who would do this.”
“Stop acting like that. You’re beautiful, fine, intelligent, and successful. Any man would be lucky to have you, and I’ve seen him. He’s damn good looking.”
“I don’t know about successful. Clayton’s ass wiped me out.”
I had taken a loan out to pay everything the judge had given him in the divorce settlement. Now I was still repaying the loan.
I followed Damaris to meet my date, and my feet were rooted to the floor the minute that I laid eyes on him.
She was right. He was fine and good-looking as hell.
At six feet and just over two hundred pounds, the brother was everything any woman would want.
His smooth gingerbread-colored skin tone was one most women attempted to achieve with thousands of beauty products, and his body looked great in his suit.
Before he turned my way, I took in that short, upturned nose that looked like he looked down on people because of it, the downturned, heart-shaped lips that had a fuller bottom one, and the low, wavy haircut that was faded on the sides.
I watched as he pulled his fingers over that full mustache and stroked them down to finger comb his shiny, bushy beard.
His double silver hoops in the left ear shone brilliantly, even under the dim recessed lighting.
Then he turned those chestnut-brown, almond-shaped eyes my way, and I wanted to scream, but they lit up like the night sky.
The man himself was more dangerous than the fabled dragons wrapped around a dahlia and tattooed on his neck just above the collar of his dress shirt.
He gripped the ivory carved handle of his cane and squeezed it tightly.
I wondered, not for the first time, if that limp he sported had something to do with that extra heavy package he seemed to be carrying in his pants.
Then I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
My traitorous body would not have me falling for the enemy.
When he caught my gaze, I noticed that he fingered the scar on the upper lobe of his left ear. I was sure that it was a nervous tick that he had because I had seen him do it once before, at my divorce hearing.
“Naijhel King, please meet Delaney Synclair. My apologies that I have to introduce you two and run, but I’m being tugged in another direction.”
I watched in disbelief as my best friend cut out on me and ran, leaving me with the monster.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.
I was supposed to be meeting my date, and unless there was a mixup, he was it; but he couldn’t be. I knew he was here on some foul shit for Clayton. I just knew it.
He smiled and explained, “I’m your date, Delaney.”
“That’s not happening.”
“It’s too late. I’ve already paid.”
“You can take your money and shove it where the sun don’t shine,” I hissed.
At that moment, Charles and Amanda Williams, the museum owner and his wife, stepped up.
“Naijhel, it is always a pleasure having you support our museum. Thank you for your contribution and support of the museum tonight and all the time.”
“You’re welcome, Charles. You all have been great friends for so long. I will always support you and Amanda,” Naijhel replied, greeting them with handshakes, hugs, and kisses.
I wanted to pass out right there. Instead, I forced a smile to my lips when Charles Williams acknowledged me. “And thank you, Delaney, for your participation and cheerful spirit. You were a good sport, and you looked lovely tonight. I just know the two of you will have a wonderful time together.”
“Yes, they will. They’re both such lovely people. You make a beautiful couple,” Mrs. Williams professed.
“You’re welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Williams. Anything for the museum,” I lied.
Naijhel smiled at me and declared, “I look forward to a lovely evening with you.”
I was so embarrassed. The last thing that I wanted anyone to know was that the enemy had purchased me like I was his whore. What had Clayton told him about me? Did he think I was easy? I hoped not, because this was going to be the date from hell for him if I could help it.