“Oh darling, that was the last bid on the first page of bids. You didn’t look at the bids on the next page or the next. Trust me, when I say multi, I mean more than a couple.”
Sophie gasped, the sound barely a whisper as a wave of lightheadedness swept over her. “How many more?”
“Many, many multis,” Ms. Birdie said.
“I can’t let you match that.” Sophie reached out and snagged a glass of champagne from the tray of a waitperson passing by. “Are you even capable of matching that?” She took a large gulp.
“Yes, darling. I’m quite capable.” Ms. Birdie smiled serenely. “And I most certainly will match the amount.”
Sophie fanned herself with her bidding paddle. “I can’t even imagine.” She glanced around for a place to sit. For the first time in her life, she thought she really might faint.
“The only thing I ask of you is that you enjoy your newfound wealth and pay it forward,” Ms. Birdie said, taking her by the arm, leading her to the bidding area, and finding her a seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our first book boyfriend of the evening is striding right out of the pages ofAggie the Horrible versus Max the Pompous Ass.” Isabella’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Please put your hands together for our very own charismatic Bosshole, Max, also known as Dillon Brax.”
The crowd erupted into applause as a tall figure stepped into the spotlight. His confident gait and smoldering gaze embodied the beloved character to perfection.
“Enjoy,” Ms. Birdie demanded. “And remember, you can afford to buy one.”
In a daze, Sophie nodded, clutching the bidding paddle, feeling the energy of the room around her. The fictional world she had so often escaped to was coming alive before her eyes, and now, thanks to Ms. Birdie’s clever push, she was a player in this serious game. She downed the rest of her champagne and sat the flute under her chair.
“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare your paddles. Let’s open the floor and see who will have the pleasure of this charming man’s company. Shall we start the bidding at five thousand? Do I hear five thousand? Step right up, don’t be shy—this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
When no one immediately jumped in, Sophie heard herself saying, “We won’t know what he’s worth until we’ve heard him read his line from the bookAggie the Horrible Versus Max the Pompous Ass.”
Isabella laughed. “You’re so right. Pardon my blunder.” She glanced at the bachelor on the stage. “Dillon, could you please read the line written on the index card handed to you before you walked onto the stage.”
Dillon glanced at the card and then directed his gaze to the audience. “‘Stop or prepare to be punished.’” His voice was low, growly, and toe-curling.
Sophie swallowed. Damn. “Five thousand.”
“Do I hear six?” Isabella asked.
“Fifty,” someone said, causing Sophie to gasp. Dear slum lords, who could afford to spend that on a date?
“Fifty-three,” another said.
Five minutes later, Isabella said, “Sold for sixty-two thousand.”
Sophie nearly fell out of her chair, and it wasn’t because of the guzzled champagne. Her book boyfriend idea had netted the charity sixty-two thousand dollars. And there were eleven more bachelors to go. She tried to do quick math on how much that would add up to if they all went for a similar amount. It was a lot.
Obviously, the ladies of Manhattan loved themselves a good bachelor auction. Either that or they just really liked a man who could deliver a naughty line in a tone that caused their imaginations to think very wicked thoughts.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next heart-stopping hero, the man who will sweeten your day just like your favorite morning pastry. Straight from the pages of Emily Henry’s delightful novelFunny Story, here’s Miles…a.k.a., Oliver, our cinnamon roll hero. He’s as sweet and comforting as they come, ready to win your hearts with his charm and kindness. Let’s hear Oliver read his line from the book.”
Oliver raised the card, silently scanned the line, blushed, cleared his throat, and read. “‘I know we said no sex, but can I touch you?’”
As Oliver delivered his line straight from the pages ofFunny Storywith an irresistible blend of charm and sincerity, she couldn’t help but be swept away by his performance. The moment he finished, she started the applause with rapid-fire clapping of one palm against her paddle, all while doing a quick scan of the crowd to see how the other women were responding.
Her gaze unexpectedly locked with Stone’s. His expression was a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. He was scowling, his eyes intense and seemingly fixed upon her. The connection was startling, igniting a flurry of questions. What could have possibly soured his mood on such a thrilling night? Surely, nother declining his drink offer. He couldn’t really have expected her to say yes.
Sophie tore her gaze away from his and refocused on Oliver.
“Shall we open the bid at six thousand?” Isabella said.
“Six.” Sophie held up her paddle.
“Do I hear six-two?”
