I work the rest of the day and finally work through answering my friends from home. Amy already knows it all, but many of the others don’t. They’re all wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life. It’s hard to explain, but I do my best.
In the evening, we head to the charity event in Milan. It’ll be our first time in public since Sylvie’s dinner. My blue dress is tight, my heels high, and my mind is a far cry from the tired contentedness I felt earlier. It’s whirring like the engine of the car.
The gala is hosted inside a famous opera house in the city. Business leaders and famous people from across Italy are in attendance. Rafe tells me in hushed tones that it’s a charity auction. The guests get to decide which new charities get funded based on their donations.
Sylvie is there too, and Leelyn, and both immediately make me smile. Leelyn is dressed in a deep mauve dress that sets off her short hair, and Sylvie is flawless in a black kaftan.
“Thank God you’re here,” Leelyn says. “There’s no fountain, but I saw an ice sculpture we could have fun with.”
Sylvie laughs. “You two are terrible.”
They mingle with us, and over the course of an hour, I talk to most of the charity heads hoping to be funded tonight. I like one in particular so much that I decide to give them all the money I’ll get from selling the extravagances I bought on Rafe’s card.
The organizers drift on and off the stage during dinner, auctioning off item after item. Rare first editions, cars, trips and private chef visits. The winner of the item chooses which charity gets their donation.
A digital chart on the wall shows the numbers for each charity. Several of them have already far surpassed their fundraising goal.
The one I like hasn’t reached theirs yet.
I sit next to Rafe, my foot tap-tap-tapping against the ground. The charity organizer I spoke to earlier looks like she might cry. She’s talking to another woman, her mouth moving quickly, hands moving even faster.
They’re not even halfway to their goal.
I tug on Rafe’s arm. There are dark circles under his eyes that I didn’t notice earlier. Like he hasn’t slept. “Yes?”
“What happens if a charity doesn’t reach their goal?” I ask.
“The funding goal?”
“Yes.” I look back at the organizer. She was so passionate earlier, speaking about the organization and the girls that would be helped. I loved listening to her.
“Then it won’t be funded,” he says. “That’s the point of tonight. A larger organization throws this auction to fund new initiatives, but only the ones guests believe in.”
“But that’s not fair.”
“Not everything is fair.” Rafe’s voice doesn’t sound mean for once. It sounds tired in a way I’ve never heard from him before. “That’s life.”
“I don’t like it.”
“No, but that’s the way of the world. If these people don’t believe in the idea, odds are that regular donors won’t either.”
“I don’t believe that. They have a fantastic idea. I’ll fix it.”
“Paige, whatever you’re thinking of—putain.” He cuts off when I get up and stride toward the stage, passing the still sniffling lady.
My heart is pounding.No thinking.The man stationed by the stage takes a step forward, his arm extended, like he doesn’t know whether to stop me or welcome me up.
I give him a blinding smile. “I’d like to add an item to the auction.”
He nods, looking back up at the concierge on stage. I give him the same wide smile. There are eyes on me. I can feel them, like pinpricks. Most guests are seated for dinner, and here I am, walking up to the stage.
But waiting for permission isn’t a good idea. I’ve learned that. Asking for forgiveness is always better.
So I climb the stairs in my ridiculously high heels andwalk across the stage. The music is louder now. It takes me a second to realize it’s because people have stopped talking and they’re all now looking at the stage.
At me.
The speaker hands me the mic with a dumbfounded expression. He’s been calling out each bid both in Italian and English, but I’ll have to do my best with just English.
