Six people later, I find out I didn’t have to worry about that. Apparently, we aren’t going by the line, but by the order on her list.
“Up next is Lennon Kelly.”
I freeze. My mouth is suddenly dry and my stomach heaves.
The woman stares over at us now. “Lennon Kelly?” she repeats.
Somehow I manage to pass the people in the line and climb the stairs on shaky legs. I force a smile as I cross the stage to her, praying I don’t trip and fall on my face. When I reach her, I swear I see sympathy in her eyes.
I know my face is bright red.
When she introduces me and recites my occupation, hobbies and favorite charity, I turn and face the room.
There’s a light trained on the stage, but it's not bright enough to block out the faces staring back at me. I take a deep breath as the woman grabs my hand and winks.
“All right, gentleman.” She lifts our hands together and gives me a twirl like we’re dancing.
I guess standing there like a frozen statue won’t bring in the bids. Moving helps me calm down, though and I’m finally able to give them a smile that hopefully doesn’t look crazy.
“Do I hear one thousand for this natural beauty?”
“Two thousand!” a voice calls from one of the tables.
I clasp my hands in front of me, holding my smile. Relief floods my body as the bids continue to go up.
When the bid reaches fourteen thousand, someone yells, “Thirty thousand,” from the back.
My body stills as a murmur goes through the crowd. Then a shock of adrenaline rushes through me as I lock eyes with Sandro.
He’s leaning against the back wall in a tux, arms crossed, blue eyes burning so bright I can feel the heat from here.
His younger brother Rocco is next to him with a roguish grin and a glass of champagne in his hand. He slowly raises it to me in a toast.
When did they get here?
“Thirty-five thousand,” another man calls out from my left.
I force myself to look away from Sandro and see that it’s Brick’s friend, Nance Vaughn.
He nods at me with a self-satisfied smile.
I glance back at Sandro, but it’s Rocco who says, “One hundred thousand.”
A collective gasp rolls through thecrowd.
“Wow,” the woman next to me stutters. “So generous.” She glances at me, her gaze raking over me like she’s trying to figure out why the bid just got ridiculous.
I’m trying to figure out why Rocco would be bidding on a date with me when Nance Vaughn yells, “Two hundred thousand.”
Holy shit.
Sweat breaks out beneath my hairline as my gaze ricochets back to Sandro and his brother. Holding eye contact with me, Sandro leans into his brother and says something, then pushes off the wall. Long, powerful strides bring him to Vaughn’s table in seconds. His large hands grab Vaughn’s shoulders, and he whispers something in his ear.
Vaughn’s face pales, and he glances up at Sandro. Swallowing, he nods.
Sandro straightens and looks at me, his face a deadly mask.
“Three hundred thousand,” Rocco calls.
