Frustration built inside Alaina like a volcano heating up. Bianca had butted her out of the conversation. To make matters worse, Altez came over with Mrs. DeBarr on his arm. “Here she is; our new talent. Alaina, I’d like you to meet Mrs. DeBarr.”
Alaina turned and shook her hand. “The pleasure is mine.” Beside her, Bianca had entwined her arm in Lance’s and turned him around toward the appetizers.
Damn it!
Alaina stifled a current of jealousy. Bianca may have won round one, but one thing was for sure. She wasn’t letting that harlot win the bid.
***
As Brett talked to the blonde Barbie princess in front of him, he realized how little he knew about the stock market. The more he opened his mouth, the more he risked being found out for the poser that he was.
“What do you suggest I invest in this month?” She twirled the strap of her purse around her fingers. Even her nails were pink.
“With the market the way it is, it’s hard to tell.” Brett glanced around the room, distracted. Where was Alaina? When he’d first seen her at the party, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman from the curb had been staring at him with interest. He had to remind himself she thought he was a billion dollars richer.
When he’d talked to her, their chemistry heated the room. He couldn’t deny the way his body pulled toward her, aching to touch her sunset hair. She smelled like roses and lavender, reminding him of the meadow beyond the log cabin.
Even if he had to assume someone’s identity to meet her, the embarrassment was totally worth it.
Mrs. DeBarr clinked her spoon on her glass, muting everyone’s conversation. Brett turned toward the older woman with relief. The less he said tonight, the better, if he was ever going to get out of this alive.
“I want to thank you all for coming. Your generosity will bring happiness to those in need and support this wonderful opera in the process. Let’s see this partnership of Project Wish and the Metropolitan Opera Fund flourish, and let’s have some fun in the process. We begin tonight with our first annual auction.”
As the crowd applauded, nervous jitters spiraled through him. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, never mind the grand prize of a million dollar auction. He had to remind himself this was for a charity he believed in, a charity he probably needed himself.
But, Brett would never take handouts. If he had to work extra hours to rebuild his life, so be it.
A man with white hair which stuck up like weeds introduced himself as Altez Vior and escorted Brett to a backroom. He was supposed to sit and wait for his turn while they started with smaller prizes like vintage wine and chocolate.
Hopefully one of those older ladies would outbid Ms. Barbie. He didn’t want to talk about stock portfolios all night long. In any case, he’d have to do some homework on the real Lance DeBarr before this so called date.
The door opened, and Mrs. DeBarr snuck in. “How’s my adopted son?”
“A little nervous.” He’d lied so many times already; he figured he’d be honest with something. “Why couldn’t I just be myself?”
She took a seat beside him and adjusted her velvet scarf. “Sadly enough, no one is going to pay thousands of dollars to go out with a construction worker.”
He smiled. She was probably right. He wouldn’t want to pay to hang around with half the men at work. “I can’t imagine why.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’re a great bunch. Look at you- such a gentleman, helping me raise money for this good cause.”
He shrugged. He still felt like a schmuck assuming her son’s identity. “What if someone who knows your real son sees me tonight?”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry. My son is rarely seen in public. He keeps to himself and travels the world half the time. I see him maybe once a year. Besides, you do look kind of like him, plus a few pounds of muscle.”
Did he pick up on a strain of melancholy in her voice? “Once a year?”
She nodded, tight lipped. All of a sudden she looked frail and vulnerable, her fancy velvet a façade for an aging, lonely woman. Brett took her hand. He was glad he’d come.
She placed her other hand over his and squeezed. “I’ll have to thank your parents for allowing me to borrow you.”
Brett sighed. How much should he tell her? “They’re both gone.”
She covered her heart with her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re so young, I guess I thought…”
“They died before they should have.”
Silence fell. His chest tightened, and no words would come. Brett wanted to tell her more, but he always closed up when anyone asked him about his family. It was as if talking about the fire made it more real. Better to live in denial, pretending his folks were still in the log cabin in Maine, his dad cutting firewood, and his mom stitching her embroidery pattern for the windowsills.
The door opened, and Altez poked his head in. “You’re up next.”
Brett jumped to his feet. Nervous energy coursed through him like that night a few years ago at the talent show in college, when he had stood backstage with his guitar. Only this was worse. They weren’t judging him; they were buying him.
He followed Mrs. DeBarr and Altez onto the stage. Bright lights shone down, blacking out the audience for a second as his eyes adjusted. Most of the front and center seats were filled, everyone holding their numbered paddles. Ms. Barbie sat in the front row.
His pulse quickened.
He scanned the audience, but he couldn’t find Alaina. She probably wasn’t even bidding.
Altez took the podium. “The next item up for bid is the handsome Mr. DeBarr, and one luxurious night out for two. Bidding starts at one thousand.”
Brett almost choked. One thousand? Dollars?
Five paddles went up- four older ladies and Barbie’s.
Altez raised both eyebrows as if impressed. “Do I hear two thousand?”
Come on older ladies. Hold your ground.
They all held up their paddles.
“Three thousand?”
Everyone was still in.
His collar tightened around his neck as Altez raised the bid as high as ten thousand. Three of the older women dropped out, leaving one older lady with blue-gray hair and Barbie.
The thought of disappointing the blonde princess weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was no stockbroker. He couldn’t help her with her finances any more than he could wear her pink dress. If she knew who he really was, she’d be disgusted.
“I’ll raise the bid to fifteen thousand.” A voice called from the back.
Brett shielded his eyes against the light. Alaina stood from her seat, raising her bidding paddle over her head. Where did she come from? And why was she after him?
What did it matter? Somehow, he believed what had sparked between him and Alaina transcended any social barriers. He could feel her draw to him deep within his gut.
Or maybe he was just crazy and didn’t want to go out with a pink nightmare.
The last older lady dropped out, leaving Barbie. She turned and sneered at Alaina. Then she held up her sign. “Sixteen thousand.”
Alaina didn’t blink an eye. “Twenty.”
The