“Amy is a competitor on the bodybuilding circuit. We’ve known each other for a few years, although only recently started spending time together,” I say.
“How long have you been dating?”
“Two months,” I reply, and Amy glances at me. “Actually, is it nearer three now, sweetheart?” I turn to her in question.
“Yes, it will be three months tomorrow,” she says softly, her lashes lowering just enough to look coy. My cock hardens as I watch her. Fuck, she’s a stunning woman. Her snarky mouth is in complete contrast to the little Miss Perfect act she’s playing just now.
She leans in and places her lips on my cheek. “And it’s been the best three months of my life,” she says in a stage whisper.
I turn back to Virginia, whose eyes are popping from her head.
“Well, Amy,” she says with a smirk, “I wonder if you’re the one who’s finally been able to tame Ivan Harley.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.” The two women focus on each other, then Virginia drops her gaze. Round one to Amy.
Plate after plate of delicious cuisine is brought to our table. We gorge ourselves on prawn and langoustine cocktail, organic turkey, and indulgent Christmas pudding. Amy chews each mouthful slowly, closing her eyes as she swallows. I watch her lean neck muscles in awe, imagining my lips on her skin. She has me mesmerized. This is torture disguised as a meal.
The conversation around the table is stuffy. Most of the guests are business owners or retired, so topics covered are limited to work or grandchildren.
The man in the tux walks up onto the stage and taps the microphone, and the chatter around the room dies down. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he calls, “I hope you have enjoyed your meal and had plenty to drink. It is time for our charity auction. Dig deep. All funds raised go toGreat Ormond St. Children’s Hospital. The catalog is on your table, and we will commence in five minutes.” Soft music starts to play while we wait.
I pluck the list from the center of the table, holding it between Amy and me. Virginia leans toward me, and her shoulder touches mine as she scans the prizes.
“What are you fancying tonight, Ivan?” she asks. “Perhaps you could treat your new partner to something. Auctions are your specialty, if I remember correctly.”
“You normally buy one of these?” Amy studies the list where nothing dips below four figures. “They’re so expensive.”
“Auction lots are normally sold for more than the value shown,” Virginia chimes in. “Rich people like to give moneyaway at these events. For tax purposes as much as to help the needy.”
“Do you consider yourself one of those people?” I ask her. “If I remember correctly,” I repeat her earlier words back to her, “you are fond of a bid yourself.”
“Always,” she says with a smile. “I am the epitome of a country club woman.”
I shuffle my seat closer to Amy’s, further from Virginia, then drape my arm across her shoulders. She’s still scanning at the list when the master of ceremonies starts the auction.
“Which prize do you like the sound of?” I whisper, my lips close enough to stir the tiny hairs at her temple. She glances at me, and a rosy-pink blush covers her cheeks. “Pick one.” She shakes her head. “Why not?”
“Because I won’t be able to enjoy it with you,” she mumbles.
“Why not?”
“Because this isn’t real. And we don’t like each other in real life.”
Virginia is talking animatedly to the poor woman on the other side of her, having lost interest in us.
“I’m a decoy,” Amy adds quietly.
“What if you weren’t?” I ask. “What if we wiped the slate clean?”
She stills, fingers twisting the edge of the tablecloth.
“Just pick a prize, Amy. We’ll sort out the details later.”
She scans the options, then points at number three.
“Go big or go home,” I say with a laugh, and she smiles.
“If we’re going to take the pretending to the next level, I may as well spend as much of your money as I can.”
