“Oh look, Brant’s up!”
Bentley walked off the stage, sweat marks marring his armpits as he tugged off his tie and made a beeline for the bar. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost.
“This one’s a good deal more difficult,” Nadine raised her paddle when the opening bid went out, then elbowed Jane to do the same.
Brant’s expression was stone. He didn’t show his emotions like Bentley did, so Jane had no idea if he was angry or just in his mental happy place drinking shots from some poor woman’s breasts.
Brant was walking talking sex, and so completely unapologetic about it that there had to be a story there.
One she knew she would most likely never get if Brant had anything to say about it.
For ten minutes Brant stood, expression indifferent, until Nadine coughed again and a new paddle flew into the air.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars.” A small voice echoed through the room.
Charles gaped and then glanced around the room. “Going once, twice, three times, sold, to number…” He squinted, “Ma’am, I need to see your paddle. what’s your number please?”
“Zero, Zero, Five.” A gorgeous Hispanic woman with bright red lipstick and jet black hair stood.
And Brant flinched.
Once, twice.
Until finally, his fa?ade shattered and an expression of pure sadness crossed his features, only to switch to red hot anger as his jaw clenched.
“Who is that?” Jane asked Nadine, “She’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“Oh her? That’s Brant’s ex-wife.”
“What?” Stunned, Jane watched the gorgeous woman smile toward the stage, but not directly at Brant, and then a man to her side grabbed her hand and led her back to the table. “Wait, is she—”
“She went blind, from the accident.”
“The accident?”
Nadine didn’t say anything else, but Brant moved from the stage past the bar and directly out the doors of the ballroom.
“I sense a story.”
Nadine snorted. “You have no idea. That little jackass has had it coming for a while.”
You could feel the tension swirl in the room as the next two bachelors were auctioned off in the exact same manner as Brant and Bentley.
Nadine coughed.
Paddles were raised.
The next two bachelors, Nadine’s cousins, couldn’t have looked more angry if they tried.
“Oh good, Brock’s next.” Nadine sighed happily. “You know, if you want me to do the inspection before he jumps into the sack with you I’d be more than happy to volunteer.”
“I, uh…” Jane laughed. “I’ve seen under the hood.”
“A hussy after my own heart.” Nadine grinned. “Oh, the hoods I saw beneath in my day were—”
“And our last item of the evening!” Charles beamed. “My eldest grandson, Brock Wellington.”
Jane was just getting ready to lift her paddle when she locked eyes on her sisters across the room. Had they just arrived? She’d been there at least an hour and hadn’t seen them anywhere.
They were almost sitting outside, their table was so far away; and they looked pissed, so angry that Jane wanted to crawl under the table and hide. After all, they’d bragged about being able to buy tickets to the ball and still hadn’t talked to her since their falling out.
Served them right.
She smiled politely then looked back to Brock.
“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred thousand.”
Jane froze.
There was no way she had that much money in her bidding account, right?
“Honey, you’re going to have to lift your paddle.” Nadine kicked her in the leg.
“But that’s so much money!”
“Funding cancer research and securing the love of your life, priceless. Plus I deposited three million into that account this morning. I highly doubt you’re going to have any issues. Just toss up that paddle and have fun.”
“But—”
“To be fair, it’s all Wellington money. Remember, they’re paying it back. But I’m charging interest for my services.” She winked.
Jane didn’t want to ask what that meant. Not by a long shot.
She gulped just as Nadine reached for Jane’s hand and thrust it into the air.
Instead of looking upset, Charles beamed in their direction. What? That couldn’t be right, could it? “Do I hear five hundred and fifty thousand?”
“You do,” came a voice from the back of the room.
Chapter Forty-Six
It worked.
Or it was working.
Every single time Jane lifted her paddle, his heart jumped in his chest.
God, he wanted nothing more than to run into her arms, kiss her senseless, bend her backwards over that table in front of friends, family, Nadine.
It didn’t matter.
He was tired of pretending.
Damn sick of saying yes all the time.
The bidding had just hit one million. He tried not to panic when several women continued to bid up Jane.
He was full-on sweating when it hit two million.
Thankfully two of the girls dropped out, leaving Jane and one of the supermodels he’d just seen on TV.
“Do I have two-point-five million?”