The memory of their last encounter—the night she’d thought he’d lost all control and broken a golden rule for her but hadn’t, the night he reminded her he was a bachelor forever—made its way to the surface, and her smile vanished. “Why are you here?”
He pointed to his earpiece, a sleek black curve against his chiseled jaw. “I’m on duty. Ms. Birdie insisted on heightened security. Seems she expects the excitement to notch up to the rowdy side tonight…thanks to you and one of your brilliant ideas.”
Then again, why should she spend even one minute of tonight upset? There’d be time tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to follow, for her to recall she didn’t much care for Stone anymore. Tonight was for happiness. She let her smile return, and a laugh bubbled up from her throat as her eyes took in the eclectic mix of guests. “That’s the hope.”
Ms. Birdie had described the guest list as a fresh, vibrant crop of potential donors, almost vampiric in their youthful zest for new experiences.
Amid the glittering crowd, Sophie had already spotted at least five highly powerful influencers. The air around them crackled with the electric anticipation of the night’s bidding frenzy.
“Would you like to grab a drink after this all wraps up?” Stone asked, snapping her back to the present.
The proposition tempted her, momentarily drawing her thoughts away from the bustling crowd. She glanced at Poppie, her steadfast date, who was currently engrossed in conversation with an elegantly dressed elderly woman. The socialite’s white-gloved hand rested gently on Poppie’s arm, and he looked utterly charmed. “I can’t,” Sophie replied. “It would be unseemly to ditch my date for a man who’s already ditched me once, don’t you agree?”
Stone’s response was a stiff nod. “Fair enough.” He turned and melted back into the crowd of partygoers.
Sophie sighed. “You could have at least tried to change my mind,” she muttered. Needing a moment to regroup, she made her way to the silent auction, where it wouldn’t be so crowded. Much to her delight, Ms. Birdie had insisted on adding a noteto Sophie’s T-shirt table informing bidders that their donation would go to charity, and Ms. Birdie would give a matching amount to the upcoming entrepreneur who’d designed the shirts—Sophie E. Clark.
Sophie had resisted the offer, but Ms. Birdie had insisted, saying it was the least she could do for the person who’d caused ticket sales for the annual charity auction to sell out in record time.
“Darling, there you are,” Ms. Birdie said, materializing beside Sophie with her usual flair. “Have you taken a peek at any of the bids on your lovely contributions?”
“Not yet. I can’t imagine they’ll be all that popular, but it’s wonderful exposure.” Sophie let her gaze drift over the items—or in some cases, small replicas of the actual item—displayed on row after row of tables. Ms. Birdie had managed to get trips, boats, jewelry, cars, and so much more donated for her silent auction. “Hopefully, I’ll get a few sales down the road.”
Ms. Birdie harrumphed. “Nice had nothing to do with it. I believe in rewarding those who bring me good fortune. Now, go and look. I do believe you’ll be pleasantly surprised—you might even decide you can afford to bid on one of your book boyfriends after all.”
“That would allow me to return some of your generosity back to your charity,” Sophie mused. “Not that I believe any of the men will go for an amount equivalent to whatever nice bid someone made on my behalf.”
“And that’s why you deserve all the happiness the world has to offer,” Ms. Birdie declared. “You have a good heart. And darling, just know, if you see a bid, it’s not a mistake.” With that comment, Ms. Birdie linked arms with a dashing gentleman. “I do believe I know just the item you should bid on this evening,” she whispered to him, guiding him toward a table laden with jewelry.
Chapter 32
Sophie’s heart raced with a mix of awe and anxiety as she navigated through the labyrinth of silent auction tables, each more lavish than the last. She’d known the auction had a reputation for being high stakes—the kind of event that raised an obscene amount of money for its designated charity.
But she’d had no idea what obscene meant until now. People in attendance were generous beyond reason. It was as if the attendees had stumbled upon a forest of money trees. Or more plausible, they were all moonlighting as counterfeiters.
The one-upmanship among the bidders was a thing of beauty. Full pages of bids and the auction had barely started.
Yet, nothing had prepared her for the moment she spotted the bid on the bundle of T-shirt designs from her online store. The initial bid—a staggering five-figure sum—had quickly ballooned into the realms of six figures. Would Ms. Birdie match that kind of money? Surely not. But if she did, that would be life changing. And Sophie wouldn’t be a professional daydreamer if she didn’t pause and consider what those changes would look like.
Three hundred and fifty thousand—yes, that was the current bid—could whisk her and Poppie into a more upscale neighborhood. And provide Poppie with financial relief. And, if they were frugal, Sophie could take her time exploring her next adventure. After all, one couldn’t be a professional daydreamer all their life.
“What has you wearing a shit-eating grin?” Poppie’s voice cut through her reverie, pulling her back to the present.
“Shush,” she hissed playfully, her eyes darting around. “You can’t use that kind of language here—” She paused, studying him more closely. “Wait a minute. You’re glowing like someone who just had a decade peeled off their life. What happened?”
“I asked first,” Poppie countered with a smirk.
Their light banter was abruptly interrupted as a voice over the PA system filled the air, silencing the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, the bidding on tonight’s Book Boyfriends will begin in fifteen minutes. If you’ve not yet retrieved a number, please do so immediately.”
The room thrummed with anticipation, and Sophie felt it—a pulsing, brilliant energy that promised an unforgettable evening. Tonight, fortunes would be spent in the blink of an eye, all in the name of a charity. And somewhere in that whirlwind, Sophie would try and capture some of that magic.
“Darling,” Ms. Birdie declared, reappearing at Sophie’s side. “I took you at your word that you would vigorously bid on a book boyfriend and thus give back a slice of the fortune you’re raking in from your products.” Her voice was a blend of amusement and pride as she handed Sophie a bidding paddle. “I must admit, I had no clear idea your success would be quite so spectacular. I’m rather proud of myself for initiating this.”
Sophie accepted the paddle. “Then you’re not upset it’s going to cost you so much out of pocket? I could secretly reimburse you.”
“Absolute nonsense,” Ms. Birdie waved her off with a flourish of her hand. “One should never gamble more than they can afford to lose, nor shy away from backing a worthy cause. I’m more than ready to write a hefty check. But now that you’ve come into your own windfall, I find myself quite eager to nudge you to do the same. After all, it’s not every night that one enters a gala with a modest sum in their account and leaves as a multi-millionaire.”
“Wait. What?” Sophie said. She must have misheard. “I just looked, and the last bid was at three hundred and fifty thousand.”
