Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Bellamie
Fate works in mysterious ways. That’s what I keep telling myself as I shut my phone off and slide it into my purse. I can’t escape the excitement as my besties and I do hair and makeup for the auction.
And if I break the auction’s perfect track record, I’ll accept the short-lived humiliation, and take it as a sign that I’m supposed to be with Krampus.
When I slip my dress on, Jolene helps me zip the back and says, “Thank you so much for finding a babysitter for me.”
“We wouldn’t have accepted the invitations without your encouragement. The least I could do was make sure you got your turn on–oh my gosh, I almost forgot the goodie bags I made.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Bellamie,” Starla says.
Grabbing the small, red organza bags from my purse, I set the special one for Jefferson, the emcee, to the side and hand the others to my friends. “I wanted to. They’re survival kits, really, full of blister bandaids, an assortment of headache pills, gum, safety pins–those sorts of things.”
“Thank you,” they say at the same time.
Jolene’s survey of her bag is cut short when her phone rings. She glances at the caller ID and freezes. “Oh no, it’s the babysitter.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
She doesn’t move.
“Want me to get it for you?”
She reaches for her phone but stops short. “Yes, I’m such a terrible mom. I just want one evening to myself.”
Starla laughs, “You sound like a seasoned mother already.”
I answer the phone. It’s a quick and easy call. Smiling at Jolene, I say, “Everything’s fine. She was just asking if you know where the woobie is, and I remembered that it’s in my car. She’s on her way to pick it up.”
“Sacred blankets, so much to keep track of. What would I do without you?”
“You wouldn’t lose woobies in my backseat.”
A knock on the dressing room door is followed by Laz, the owner of the Aubergine Affair asking, “Can I come in? I have some exciting news to share.”
Starla tugs her dress up. “Yep, we’re all decent.”
“Great news, ladies!” He enters and flashes the program at us.
I take the shiny cardstock from him. There are four of us. Molly’s name has been added.
“Hot off the presses. Molly is on her way and Roxy is bringing a dress that should fit her.”
The three of us are too confused or stunned to react.
“That’s what you wanted, right?” Laz asks.
Jolene and Starla jump up and down, squealing in excitement.
“Oh my gosh, really?” I ask, not thinking of any reason he would be joking.
“Yeah, after you contacted us, we looked into it and long story short, her invite must have gotten lost…” He continues talking but my mental gymnastics make it impossible to process any more of his words.
“Does this mean she can take my place?” I toy with the hemp bracelet, my fingers rubbing the Krampus charm. I want to explore more of that rope bondage he did. I want to explore how easy he was to talk to. I want to explore why he didn’t run away when I said all I ever wanted to do was be a mom.
I want to know if we really had something.
“She’s not taking anyone’s place. We added her.” Laz tips the edge of the program down so he can point to the names.
Jolene steps close to me. “Don’t back out.”
Laz is confused. “Yeah, don’t back out. We’re reprinting the programs. This was the first one, I grabbed it off the copier to show you because I thought you’d be excited.”
“We are,” Jolene says.
“Bellamie?” Laz asks.
“Can I have a minute?”
“If you’re backing out, we’ll have to reprint. I need to know right away.” He checks his phone.
Starla ushers him out of the room, then she and Jolene crowd around me.
“What if this is a sign?” I ask.
Jolene takes the paper from my hands and holds it up. “It is a sign. Read it.”
When I stare blankly, she points to her name and says, “Jolene, that’s me.” Pointing to Starla, she reads her name. Then sliding her finger back and forth under my name, she says, “Bellamie, that’s you.”
“I know, but–”
“And then, Molly.” She moves her finger down. “There are four of us now. It’s a sign. You helped make sure she was included, the same way as you made sure I was. Now we’re going to return the favor.”
They give me a second, then Starla says, “Dating’s a crapshoot, Bellamie. You don’t even know if Krampus will show up on Sunday.”
“Or why he won’t tell you his name.” Jolene steps toward the door.
They’re right. After all, Krampus was a little too perfect. Probably nothing more than a smooth- talker who knows exactly what to say to get into a woman’s pants.
Starla hugs me. “Ready to give the auction a chance?”
“Yes,” I say, trusting that everything will work out.
“She’s in, Laz,” Jolene calls through the open door.
“Oh shoot, I have to meet the babysitter for the woobie handoff.” Slipping my shoes on and grabbing my keys, I rush out of the dressing room.
Laz does a double take as I rush past him. I give him a thumbs up and head outside. The cold evening air is a shock but the babysitter should be here any minute so I rush to my car. The dress is designed for sex appeal, not warmth, barely covering from my breasts to my butt.
Grabbing the blanket out of the backseat, I hear my name from the person I least want to see right now.
Loren.
Closing the door, I turn to find him rushing toward me.
His face is as red as his Santa costume, minus the facial hair. “I thought it was a fucking rumor.”
“What?” There was a point when I would have been ecstatic to see him at the auction, but I’m not in the mood for his meddling. Now I worry that if he was here to buy me, it would only be to prevent anyone else from doing so.
“You’re in the auction?” His gaze travels slowly over my exposed skin.
All the times I paraded myself in front of him uselessly pale in comparison to the reality that if he buys me, he has to have sex with me and give me an orgasm.
I’d be even more on board if I could have the Santa-Krampus duo, but that’s even less likely.
“I’m not here to bid on anyone. What about you?” Who would he pick? Jolene? Starla? He couldn’t have known about Molly.
“I was on my way to a private party when I heard. You can’t do this, Bellamie.” He’s angry, to be sure, but there’s more to his tone. He’s pleading with me.
“You don’t get to control me, Loren. Go back to your party.”
“I got someone else to fill in.”
The babysitter pulls up beside me and rolls down her window. Picking up on the tense vibe, she takes the woobie, thanks me, and leaves quickly.
“Why would you do something like this?” Loren asks.
“Because I want to.”
He rubs his temples, presumably recognizing there’s nothing he can do to stop me.
As if my situation wasn’t complicated enough, the possibility of Loren winning me feeds my long-time fantasy–as long as he does what winners are supposed to do, even if it is just a grudge fuck. And since he would never tell our parents, that would leave me free to meet Krampus on Sunday.
Has it been like this for other winners and they just kept the complications quiet?
Rubbing my arms, I say, “I’m freezing. I’m going inside. And I’m going through with this.”
He grabs my arm but I shirk free. One of the doormen approaches, looking between the two of us, his brow furrowed in concern.
“We’re fine.” I walk past, adding a little strut to my step, and leave Loren to make a big decision.
Molly shows up and I give her the survival kit I made for myself. There’s not much time to get her ready so we all go to work primping and preening her for this last-minute change of plans.
Before long, Jolene takes the stage and I’m a little relieved that she’s the one to break the auction when she’s won by her brother’s best friend and no one else.
It’s all good, but I know she was looking forward to having at least two guys win her.
No one can be upset at the one-point-five-million-dollar win, though.
The second Starla takes the stage, the bidding starts at six hundred thousand. Molly and I peek around the curtain and I’m only somewhat surprised to see who’s so excited about Starla. It’s her dad’s best friend, Cullen, continuing to top anyone who ups the bid.
And once again, we have a sole winner topping a million dollars. Molly and I share a moment of excitement with her before I step past the curtain. The spotlight hits me, the crowd cheers, and I realize I forgot the goodie bag for Jefferson.
Coming to an abrupt halt, I turn and run back to the dressing room. Through the building’s sound system, I hear Jefferson saying, “Did Bellamie get cold feet? We better give her a warm welcome and get her back out here or you’ll lose your chance to bid on her.”
The bidders go so crazy that I can hear them all the way in the dressing room even when the microphone cuts out. That’s reassuring.
I hurry back to the stage, extending the bag to Jefferson. “Sorry, I forgot this little gift I put together for you.”
Everyone laughs and he takes it gratefully. “This one’s a keeper, for sure.”
The crowd erupts into applause and catcalls again.
“Got any other surprises, Bellamie?” Jefferson asks.
I turn my palms up and shrug. If I do, the surprise will be on me as well. Afraid to look into the audience, I focus on the auctioneer as he starts the bidding, and for the first time ever, really listen to how an auction is called. They don’t just count sequentially.
Then it hits me… I’m getting bid on. I’m not breaking this part of the auction. It remains to be seen if I’ll get my happily ever after, but so far, so good.
“We’ve got some eager bidders, Bellamie. Want to strut around and keep these numbers going sky-high?”
Mechanically, I move my legs and listen as the bids top eight hundred thousand. I’m doing it. The confidence I’ve been practicing takes hold.
And just like Jolene rehearsed with Starla and me, I lift my gaze to make eye contact with the bidders.
A paddle shooting up for nine hundred thousand is the first thing to catch my attention. The second thing is the bright-red mass at the back of the room.
Loren, dressed as Santa–raising his paddle for an even million.
My heart stops. This is real. Was I wrong about why he ignored me and my tiny bikinis and other attempts to get his attention? Why he interfered with Krampus? Flipping everything I thought I knew about him on its head, I’m shocked in the best of ways.
A memory of the time I pretended to accidentally walk in on him while he was showering sends a shiver through me.
I was trying to tease him, but he wasn’t just showering.
He was stroking his big, fat cock. And that brief moment we made eye contact through the glass shower wall… I wasn’t wrong thinking he wanted me.
I also wasn’t wrong to wonder how I could take something that big.
Tonight could be my answer. The room sways a little, but I keep myself in check. I can’t make too many assumptions. It’s still possible he’s just stopping anyone else from winning.
Making my way back to Jefferson, I channel the part of me I’d learned to doubt. I lean toward Jefferson, and say, “Could you please make sure the bidders understand what they have to do if they win?”
He asks the auctioneer to pause the bidding then says, “I invite all bidders to remember that by winning, they are making a commitment, not only to fund a worthy set of charities, but also to have sex with the woman they win, right here at the club, ensuring that she comes hard and she comes first.”
I blush. That works.
The auctioneer resumes and Loren’s paddle goes straight back into the air. A few more exchanges go past in a blur until the other bidder drops out.
The auctioneer pimps for bids. “Gentlemen, unless someone else is jumping in at the last minute, we have a winner. Going… going… gone!”
The second Loren's declared the winner, I rush from the stage to the payment room. He’s already at the table talking to the woman accepting the money. I’m not sure how they do that for such large amounts, but that’s not my concern.
“Do you realize what you’re doing?” I ask, ready to cut off any chance of his bossy bravado.
“Winning,” Loren says without looking.
“To keep someone else from winning?”
He turns to me and his eyes have gone dark. “Yes.”
“But you have to…” Is he going to make me spell it out?
“Don’t worry. I know exactly what I get to do.”