But shit. I could not let her win this thing.
What was she trying to prove here?
Put your fucking paddle down, I tried to tell her with my eyes. In my pocket, I turned on my phone.
“Seventy!” a woman at table three called out.
“Seventy-five,” the woman in silver said.
And right there, I saw Courteney’s firedie.
Whatever crazy-ass budget she’d given herself, that was over it.
But I needed to make sure.
I pulled out my phone and typed her a text while one of the ladies at table three called out another bid for the woman in red.
Me:Stop bidding on me. I’m going home with you tonight.
“A-mayyy-zing! We have a bid of eighty-five-thousand—Wait. Now wait a minute here.” The MC pointed at me. “What is he doing on his phone in the middle of thiscrucialmoment?”
The crowd laughed.
“I’m making dinner reservations,” I said casually, sending the text to Courteney without even looking up. “For me and the blonde.”
The MC, who thought I was talking about the lady in red at table three, whooped with delight, and the whole room, who obviously thought the same thing, laughed and applauded.
I tucked my phone away deliberately, but when I looked over, Courteney hadn’t taken the hint. She wasn’t checking her phone.
“Well, well,” the MC purred. “We may have a winner here. Unless I see ninety out there—Yes! Ninety-thousand dollars, from the gentleman at table twelve.”
I looked over there, and he was grinning at me again. So were his friends.
Looked like he really wanted this date.
“Ninety-five,” said the woman in silver. I glanced over at her. She was sipping a martini, and winked at me.
Then I looked over at Courteney.
“One-hundred-thousand!” yelled one of the ladies at table three.
The MC couldn’t even keep up with the bids. They were tossing them out faster than he could ask for them.
“One-hundred-and-five.”
“One-hundred-and-ten!”
Courteney laid her paddle down on her table, got up, and walked away. I watched her make her way toward the back of the club and disappear in the crowd.
Fucking shit.
“Isn’t thisfun?” said the MC. “Do I see one-fifteen? Must I remind you to take another look at thosemuscles…?”
The lady in red was already thrusting her paddle into the air.
“One-hundred-and-fifteenthousanddollars,” the MC drawled, goading the other bidders. “You’ll need to unclench those purse strings, honeys, if you want to win this date.”
“One-hundred-and-twenty.”
