“Can you just do this favor for me without asking a bunch of questions?” he interrupts, irritation coating every gruff word. “If you say no, I have to find a backup, and the auction starts soon.”
With a fake gasp of delight, I place a hand over my chest. “I was your first choice? I’m flattered, honestly. Here’s the thing, though…” Shuffling a little closer, I lean in conspiratorially. “If I bid on you, I’m closing the door on all the other single men here tonight, so…” I pause for good measure and look him in the eye. “What’s in it for me?”
The corners of his lips twitch. “Winning the date with me isn’t enough?”
Ignoring the question, I tap my fingers against my chin. “In return for bidding on a date with you, which I assume you’ll reimburse, since you pay more in taxes than I make in a year, I’d like to request an unspecified favor of my choosing to be redeemed at any point in time.”
He grunts. “Great. Whatever. Fine.”
The bartender sets my drink on a square napkin and slides it across the bar, but I’m too focused on Cameron to bother with it. “Seriously? You don’t even want to stipulate that it has to belegal? That it won’t get you arrested? Banned from the state? Put on a list of some sort?”
He taps his dress shoe against the floor, his look closed off but maybe a little thoughtful, too. “Will it?”
I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought of the favor yet. It’s a hypothetical.”
“I have a good lawyer,” he states, as if this answers the question. “I’m not worried.”
The bartender hands him his drink, and Cameron tips him with a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill despite the small placard reading “no gratuity needed.” I don’t think I’ve carried cash since I got my first credit card. It’s a habit that stresses my dad out dearly, but I’m not sure what kind of situation I could find myself in where a five-dollar bill would be make it or break it.
Cameron peers down at me. “So you’re in? You’ll do it?”
I take a sip of my drink and shrug. “Sure. Why not?” I’ve always been a “do it for the plot” kind of girl.
I don’t even have time to ask him what my limit is before he’s grumbling “thanks” and strolling off to do who knows what. Probably to see if laser beams will shoot out of his eyes if he glares hard enough.
Drink in hand, I slip through the crowd of guests wearing silk and satin and the servers passing champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. Normally, when I handle desserts for an event, I’m in and out quickly. I drop off the goods, confirm setup, and disappear before the first toast. But thanks to my close relationship with the event company the Bobcats’ use, I’ve earned a sort of carte blanche pass to their events. Oh, and it helps that my best friend is dating the team captain.
Sliding into the open seat next to Sophie at our table, I announce, “Just so you know, I’m planning to bid on a date with your brother.”
Sophie’s eyes widen, and she breaks into a beaming smile. If I didn’t know she was Cameron’s sister, I never would’ve guessed. He’s all tattoos and menace, whereas Sophie looks like a literal angel with her blond hair (that’s never seen a box of dye), baby blue eyes, and porcelain skin. It wouldn’t surprise me if animals flock to her apartment when she cleans, à la Snow White.
“Stop smiling at me like that,” I say with a grimace. “It’s for charity.”
She shrugs, her naturally dark pink lips tipped up at the corners. “A girl can dream, right?”
“I didn’t know Cameron was part of the auction,” Maya says, flipping open the glossy event booklet with all the prize packages listed.
“I don’t think he did either. It seemed last minute. I guess his ex is here, and he’s trying to avoid?—”
Sophie gasps and grabs my arm, her lilac-painted nails biting into my skin. “His ex? Who?”
I fix her with a stare of disbelief. “Is there more than one ex?”
Maya snorts, and when Sophie narrows her eyes at her, she raises her hands in surrender.
“Is it really that unbelievable that people would want to date my brother?” Sophie huffs. “I know he’s a little rough around the edges, but he wasn’t always like that. I mean, yes, he’s always been grumpy, but not so… grumpy.”
I take a sip of my drink, relishing the cool liquid, even if it is nonalcoholic. “We just didn’t know he had an ex. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been a manwh?—”
“Man who likes variety,” Maya cuts in smoothly, stopping me from accurately calling him a manwhore.
I’m not judging him for it. There’s a reason “why choose” is my favorite romance subgenre.
Sophie’s face softens. “He used to be a relationship guy, then his last ex, Gigi, kind of wrecked him. I don’t know all thedetails, but after they broke up, he shut down the idea of dating altogether.”
With a hum, I nod. “Which is exactly why I’m bidding on the date but not going on the date.”
“I vote you go on the date,” Maya pipes in.
