Another round of applause erupted. Building to a standing ovation for one of their own.
He stepped back from the stage now, handing it off to the professional auctioneer brought in for the night— a fast-talking alum with a booming voice and a toothy grin who’d clearly done this before.
“Alright, folks,” the man boomed, “let’s make some noise and open those wallets! First up, dinner and a movie with none other than Coach Busby!”
The crowd laughed and hollered. Dylan smiled, hands clasped loosely in front of him as he moved to the side of the stage, just out of the spotlight. Kallie joined him, iPad in hand, already tracking bids in real time on the donor app.
“Nice delivery,” she murmured. “You didn’t even look like you were scanning the room for her.”
He shot her a look. “Subtle, Kallie.”
She winked. “I’m pretty damn good at my job. I get paid to notice things, Mac. Nothing gets by me.”
He rolled his shoulders back, trying to refocus. But it was impossible to shake the knowledge that Ali Presley was here— maybe watching. Probably avoiding him entirely.
The first few items went quickly, laughter and friendly competition bubbling through the crowd. The Coach Busby dinner racked up a respectable $3,500. The vineyard weekend went even higher, a bidding war between a pair of former teammates now married and clearly out to one-up each other. Dylan forced a smile for the photos, posed with a donor or two. But his eyes kept drifting.
The auctioneer’s voice cut through again. “Now let’s talk football. Let’s talk the NFL. Let’s talk box suite tickets to see the Orlando Tritons on their home turf— four of them. All access. Private dinner. VIP passes. And a night hosted by Magnolia Bluff’s own Mac McKenzie!”
A cheer rose from the crowd.
Dylan gave a tight nod and stepped forward again, this time only for effect. He let the energy build.
“Do I hear two thousand?” the auctioneer called. “Yes— three? Four? We’re at five now!”
Kallie leaned in. “You should smile. You’re about to break eight grand.”
He tried. “You think she’s still here?”
Kallie didn’t need to ask who he meant. She scanned the crowd casually. “Back left. Near the windows.”
His breath caught. He didn’t dare look. Not yet. Not while standing in front of hundreds of people.
“Nine thousand!” the auctioneer roared. “Do I hear ten?”
Another cheer. A chant stared. “The tide don’t break! The tide don’t break!” A hand shot up near the stage.
“Ten thousand it is! Anyone going to top that?”
Silence for a beat.
“Going once… going twice…”
Dylan let his gaze drift— just barely. Just enough to catch a shimmer of navy sequin near the edge of the crowd.
Then someone shouted from the back “Fifteen thousand!”
Dylan’s eyes shot to the back. Waving her brochure like she was at a rock concert, the redhead next to Ali. Ali was staring at her like she’d lost damn her mind.
“Going once… going twice,” the auctioneer did one last scan. “Sold! To the lady in gold!”
“Thank you ma’am— and thank you, Mac McKenzie, for donating what just became our highest bid of the night!”
More applause. Flashbulbs. Kallie tugged him back toward the shadows as the auctioneer queued up the next item.
But Dylan wasn’t listening anymore. Not to the bidding. Not to the music. Not to the well-wishers.
She was still here.
