Tristan invited us over last week after we announced that we were dating. I guess that’s a mild way of putting it. I don’t know why, but everyone is a little too chill about all of it. It’s as if they already knew something was cooking between us long before we did.
“You’re going to do all the bidding, right?” I whisper as we take our seats. I know he is, but I just need to confirm it before we begin. My stomach is churning.
“Of course, Mama.”
“And you’ll stick to what we agreed, right?”
He glances at me, but before he answers, Noah leans forward and chimes in. “Funny, Brad told us this morning, come hell or high water, he’s going all the way.”
My forehead pinches and I quickly glance at Brad, who sure knows his poker face from wearing his heart on his sleeve face.
“That’s exactly what he said,” Josh confirms, joining in from next to Noah.
“Brad!” I warn in a hushed tone. “You know we have a budget, I’ll never be able to pay you back or whatever if you go crazy today. Please just say we’ll stick to our agreement.”
“Just leave it to me,” he simply says, giving nothing away.
I glance at my mom on the other side of me and she smiles, patting me on the arm. Dad stayed home to watch Deaton, and I’m kinda regretting even being here. I simply can’t watch the possibility of everything I’ve worked for going up in flames. Sure, I can find another place, but moving all of my equipment and stock out is going to take some doing, as well as a huge expense I just don’t have.
I press my lips together and try some deep breaths and a positive mantra about everything being okay.
When the auction opens, after a short introduction, they give a brief history lesson about my beloved little bakery, and it’s enough to throw my mind into serious chaos. The projector screen showcasing the building, and seeing the bakery from all angles, makes me feel nauseous.
Oh shit. This is getting so real.
The bidding fires off in a frenzy; people calling out left, right and center.
But it doesn’t take long to peter out. I watch like a tennis match as bids go back and forth. All the while, Brad sits as calm as a shade tree with his paddle waiting for his moment to strike. When he finally gets in on the action, I don’t know if I feel better or worse, because at the rate it’s going — and how fast — it could all be over in no time at all, and we’re nearing our limit.
When it hits a million dollars, I’m having kittens. I mean, I knew this would be a high possibility, but hearing the actual words from the auctioneer’s mouth sends nervous ripples through me from head to toe.
“I think I need a paper bag,” I whisper to Mom.
“It’s going to be fine, you’ll see,” she says. “Either way. We’ll figure something out. You’re not alone, my darling.”
Her words are encouraging because deep down, I know it’s true. I’m just really caught up in the moment and what’s going on around me, I can’t seem to think rationally.
“Going once at one million, two hundred thousand,” the auctioneer calls, scanning the room with a keen eye for any further bids. It’s not our bid that’s winning, and we’re already over what we agreed, and what I can afford. My heart sinks. But out the corner of my eye, I see Brad’s arm move, and on further inspection, I realize he’s about to lift his paddle again.
“Brad!” I grit out under my breath. “What are you doing?”
He leans in to kiss me quickly, momentarily distracting my train of thought. “Going all the way, Mama. I told you we’d get this building, and this is me keeping that promise.”
I stare at him as he glances back up to the auctioneer and raises his paddle, then I see his lips move, “One million, three hundred thousand,” he calls.
Noah and Josh both pass me a glance as I stare bewildered and in shock. This is clearly Brad taking charge and playing hardball, but way to give me a heart attack. I guess his brothers tried to warn me. The other thing that shocks me is how turned on I am by it. How in charge he is, not even breaking a sweat.
It’s white noise in the background as I continue to stare at him. After what seems like an eternity, I hear the bang of the gavel. “Sold to Mister Lucas for one million, three hundred thousand dollars. Congratulations!”
I slap a hand over my mouth as Brad nods once towards the auctioneer and then turns his head to look at me. “I didn’t come to play,” he simply says. “I told you I’d get you that building and I keep my promises.”
“Oh, my god!” I finally cry out with tears pooling in my eyes. “You-you’re insane, B. I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Nice going.” Noah pats his brother on the back as I throw my arms around Brad and we hug tightly as the room starts to rustle and filter out.
“That’s the name of the game,” Tristan says with a proud nod as he gives his son a one-armed hug and pulls me in for one too. “And that’s my boy, too.”
“That was amazing,” Mom says. “I say a celebration is in order!”
