But it was Drew’s expression that was absolutely priceless—a mixture of shock and suspicion. He was right to be suspicious.
He stepped off the stage and approached me. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I was practically shaking from the giddiness of seeing what his reaction would be when he learned the true reason I just dropped three hundred dollars on him.
“I’m surprised you bid on me,” he said as he leaned over the chair in the row in front of me. “Where do you want to go for our date? Dinner? Movie? I know a great spot by the river.”
Was he serious?
I burst out laughing, absolute glee filling me. God, this was going to be even better than I’d planned.
“Oh, Dumontier, I don’t want to date you. I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man alive.”
His arrogant smile faltered. “Then why?—”
“I need an assistant for my recital next weekend. Someone to fetch coffee, carry instruments, hold cue cards, and act as my personal hype man. You’ll be perfect.”
His face fell and I wished Rachel would snap a pic for me because damn did I want to remember this moment. “You’re shitting me.”
“I even had a special shirt made,” I continued, pulling afolded T-shirt from my bag and holding it up. It was black with #TinsleyHypeCrew printed across the chest in bold white letters.
I couldn’t decide if his expression was more shock or horror as he took the shirt, but it didn’t really matter because I felt ten feet tall right then. He thought he could continue to get the upper hand with me, but that was absolutely never going to happen. I wouldneverstop fighting him.
“Cheer up, Andy. I’ll make sure you earn every penny of that three hundred dollars.”
He glared at me. “Don’t call me that.”
I knew he hated that name. He’d gone by Drew for as long as I could remember, but I never forgot that his real name was Andrew, and “Andy” was my preferred taunt when he was especially pissing me off. Right now it felt like rubbing salt in the wound of my victory.
He turned away without another word and walked back to his seat, while I leaned back in mine and tucked a piece of my curly hair behind my ear.
Despite spending the entire amount I’d brought, I’d call this a win overall.
“Holy shit, Harper. I can’t believe you just did that,” Rachel said excitedly beside me.
“Worth every penny.”
Dumontier should’ve learned by now—a Tinsley never gives up.
TWO
Three days had passed since the bachelor auction, and I was still fucking pissed.
The black T-shirt sitting on my desk mocked me every time I looked at it—#TinsleyHypeCrew in obnoxious white letters across the chest.
Harper had left a Post-it note on our front door this morning.
Saturday. 7 PM. Recital Hall.
Don’t be late, Andy.
And that had just enraged me further. She knew I fucking hated that name.
The worst part? I actually had to show up. Three hundred dollars was three hundred dollars, and as much as I wanted to tell Harper Tinsley exactly where she could shove her recital, I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of saying I’d backed out.
That didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her, though.
I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found what I was looking for. Jake Morrison was another CFU hockey player who happened to work for the maintenance department as part of his work-study job.
“Jake? It’s Monty. Listen, I need a favor.”
