Jess…
“Oh,” I say as it comes to me. “The bookstore girl. Okay.” I fold my arms, thinking. “Well, Aurora asked me to bid on her too. I gave her instructions to glare at everyone else, but I’m not sure that will work.”
“How much money do you have?” Juliet says, and India elbows her in the ribs.
“Ow!”
India mutters, “You can’t justask?—”
“It’s a valid question!” Juliet responds. “Isn’t it?” She looks up at me. “That’s totally valid for me to want to know at an auction. Like are we all going to need to pool our money together?”
“It’s true that I may be working with less money than I usually would,” I admit. “I recently made a—” I break off, glancing back and forth between the sisters, and decide fewer details are better at this juncture. “A large-ish purchase.” Then,briskly, I add, “However, I’m not beneath using intimidation tactics.”
India eyes me as I straighten up, and she nods in approval, like my willingness to threaten harm has improved her opinion of me.
Whatever it takes, I guess.
“Well, let’s go get closer,” she says. “It’s going to start soon, isn’t it?” She pauses, her eyes training on something I can’t see. Then she looks at Juliet, frowning. “Hey, did you call them?” She jerks her chin behind me, and I turn just in time to see two more people heading our direction, a man and a woman.
The guy is maybe a couple inches shorter than me with hair my color and the grumpiest face I’ve ever seen. There’s an unmistakable likeness between him and India, however, and the way he looks at everyone tells me they’re all familiar with each other.
A brother, maybe.
“Hey, chickadees,” the approaching girl says, a little breathless. She has dark, curly hair and a determined expression.
“What are you guys doing here?” Juliet says with a curious tilt of her head. “Did you come to bid on Aurora too?”
The grumpy brother makes a vague sound of assent, and Juliet beams, clapping her hands.
“That’s so exciting! This is going to be so fun!”
“I’m not here to have fun,” the grumpy guy says.
“Oh, stop it, Cyrus,” India says. “You’re going to give yourself premature wrinkles.”
Cyrus. That name is familiar.
But I’m not familiar to him. In fact, I’m the elephant in the room—every pair of eyes falls on me, and Cyrus’s eyes narrow.
“Who are you?” he says.
“Roman Drake. Great to meet you,” I say, because I may need to buy this man off at some point in the future. So I grab his hand and shake it—except Cyrus doesn’t actually participate, so I’m left shaking a limp arm. I stare at it for a second and then let go. “That’s fine. We can work our way up to handshakes.”
Cyrus looks at the women. “Can someone please tell me who this is?”
“Oooh,” Juliet says, her eyes swinging to the stage as the twinkling lights overhead go dim. “It’s starting. It’s starting!”
And without another word she hurries toward the stage, where the beam of a spotlight has appeared; we trail after her with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
My pulse thrums in my veins as a line of women and men filters up the stairs from stage left, people of all shapes and sizes and colors; Aurora is closer to the beginning, her red dress probably visible even from the mountains. She walks with her head held high, her steps graceful, and I’m surprised to see that she doesn’t actually stand out as much as I expected she would.
She’s not the only one in bright colors; she’s not the tallest. She’s neither the largest nor the smallest, either. And yet she’s easily the most beautiful—although I can admit I’m biased, and there are other beautiful women up there.
None of the participants can match her facial expression, however.
A snort of laughter escapes me, loud enough that a woman at the nearest table turns to look disapprovingly at me, but my smile remains. India is grinning too, while Juliet and the curly-haired girl look concerned.
Because Aurora looks like she’s about to murder someone.
