She laughs, the sound light and beautiful. “Flatterer.”
I want the whole world to know that this woman is mine. Tomorrow, after the charity auction, I'm telling Brett everything.
It's time to stop keeping her secret.
19
Harper
I wake up at 5:30 AM on auction day with my stomach in knots and my mind racing through the endless checklist that's been living in my head for weeks. The Plaza Hotel's Grand Ballroom needs to be transformed into auction perfection in less than twelve hours.
My phone is already buzzing with messages from my team. Jessica confirming the final headcount. James updating me on the celebrity arrivals timeline. Amber sending photos of the auction items being delivered to their display cases.
Everything is falling into place, but I can't shake the anxiety clawing at my chest. This isn't just another event. This is my chance to prove Hayes & Company belongs in the big leagues permanently.
I slip out of Cole's bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. He has his own responsibilities today as the Renegades' captain and host. But as my feet hit the floor, his hand catches my wrist.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrified. Excited. Ready to throw up.” I sit on the edge of the bed. “All of the above.”
He pulls me down for a kiss. “You're going to be incredible today. Nothing will go wrong.”
“Famous last words,” I say, but his words give me a boost of confidence.
“I'll see you there,” he says. “Try to eat something.”
“I'll try.”
The Plaza at six AM is chaotic. Vendors stream through service entrances, florists arrange centerpieces, and the auction house staff positions items in their display cases. I'm everywhere at once, checking lighting, adjusting seating charts, and confirming that the sound system can handle tonight's crowd.
“Harper,” Jessica appears at my elbow with a clipboard. “The celebrity chef just arrived for the cooking demonstration. He wants to know about kitchen access.”
“Take him to the prep area. Make sure he has everything he needs.” I check my watch. “What about the string quartet?”
“Setting up in the pre-reception area now. James is handling their sound check.”
“Perfect. And the auction paddles?”
“Distributed to registration. Amber's overseeing check-in.”
By four PM, the transformation is complete. The Grand Ballroom looks like something out of a fairy tale, all soft lighting and elegant gold accents.
Auction items gleam under spotlights. A week in Tuscany, courtside Knicks tickets, original artwork, and the crown jewel, which is a private dinner cooked by a Michelin-starred chef in the winner's home.
I’m walking out of the changing room, changed into my floor-length burgundy gown, when my phone buzzes.
It’s a text from Cole.You look stunning from across the room.
I scan the room and spot him at the end of the ballroom, looking devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo. He's talking to a group of sponsors, but his eyes are on mine.
The butterflies in my stomach settle slightly. He's here. We're doing this together, even if no one else knows it.
The VIP reception begins at six PM, and I'm in full event coordinator mode. I greet major donors, introduce celebrities to potential bidders, and ensure the champagne never stops flowing.
Cole also works the room, posing for photos with sponsors' families and signing autographs for star-struck guests. Watching him in action fills me with pride.
“Ms. Hayes,” a reporter from the Times approaches me. “Could we get a quote about tonight's projected fundraising goals?”
