Tara did her last walk-through of the gallery, then settled in at the front with Evan once he pulled the bids at the conclusion of the silent auction. Evan made his announcement on the loudspeaker that the silent auction had concluded, and everyone gathered to hear the winning bids.
“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. I hope you’ve had a good time.”
He continued on, thanking the sponsors of the event and those who donated prizes. Everyone applauded since some of the prizes were pretty magnificent, from beautiful artwork to private, in-house chefs to trips and luggage to designer jewelry.
“I also want to thank our glorious event planner for putting tonight’s party together—Miss Tara Lincoln of The Right Touch.”
Tara hadn’t expected Evan to acknowledge her, but she was thrilled. She stepped up and gave a gracious bow to the applause, and that’s when she caught Mick’s eye. He looked as surprised to see her as she had been to see him. In her flurry of last-minute activity before the end of the auction, she’d almost forgotten he was here. Almost. But as his gaze met hers and she caught the beautiful Alicia Brave clinging to his side, the pain inside renewed, and she looked away, smiled at the crowd, and stepped aside so Evan could continue on with his speech, finally getting to the winners of the auction items.
One by one the highest bidder was revealed, and they had to come up, claim their prize, and pay their money. Applause and squeals of delight could be heard when the auction items were awarded.
“And now for the romantic weekend getaway to a private Caribbean island, complete with your own butler and fully stocked food and bar service for the entire weekend. This is the ultimate in decadence for two. The highest bidder is—San Francisco’s own Mick Riley!”
Tara swallowed and waited for Mick to come claim his prize. She held on to the envelope, waited for him to write his check to the charity’s accountant, then handed him the envelope.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her as she handed him the envelope.
“You’re welcome. Congratulations and thank you for your donation. Enjoy your prize.” It was her standard speech to all the recipients. She had a smile plastered on her face, and she refused to treat him any differently than any of the other auction winners, no matter how much it pained her.
Private island in the Caribbean, huh? She wondered which of the many actresses and models that were in his little black book he was going to be taking to the island.
You’re being ridiculous and petty. Stop it.
Once the prizes had been awarded, everyone was cut loose to enjoy the rest of the night. Tara moved out of the room, needing air and a cold drink. She headed for the bar and grabbed a drink, then decided to find the nearest corner and wait out the crowd until it was time to go home. She was good at blending in. She could do this, could hide out, and no one would find her.
“Tara.”
Dammit. There were five hundred people here, and she’d tucked herself into a crowd. How the hell had he ferreted her out so easily? She turned and faced Mick, who was surprisingly alone. “Where’s your date for the night?”
“Surrounded by her Hollywood friends for the moment. And she’s not my date.”
“Uh-huh. Look, Mick. I’m busy tonight, and I don’t have much time for idle chitchat. So if you’ll excuse me ...”
She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.
“Are you kidding me? You’re angry at me because I’m here with Alicia?”
She tilted her head back to glare at him. “What did you expect? That I’d be okay with it?” She blew out a sigh. “I don’t know, Mick. Am I supposed to be okay with you seeing someone else?”
“I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“And I guess I’m blind. And stupid. Forget it. We’re nothing to each other.”
Now he had the damn nerve to look mad. “We aren’t?”
“No. We aren’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Fine. You go back to work. And so will I.”
“You do that.”
She walked away, her nerve endings blasting out anger signals all over the place. She had to take deep breaths in and out so she wouldn’t look pissed-off at the people she was supposed to be entertaining. Plant a smile on your face and look happy, for the love of God. These are all potential clients, and giving them a death glare isn’t going to endear you to any of them.
By the time she reached the front of the gallery she was calmer, smiling, at least on the outside—though it would probably help to dig her fingernails out of the palms of her hands.
She even stood by and watched all of young Hollywood give interviews for the television cameras, gritting her teeth when it was Alicia Brave’s turn. And there was Mick, right by her side.
Ugh.