JUNE
“Why are you nervous?”Violet asks.
I smooth down the front of my dress, my pulse thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings.You’d think the last couple of hours would’ve given me time to clear my head and settle my nerves, but nope.It’s official.I’m a wreck.Pressing my hand to my chest, I take a deep breath.
“I’m not nervous, I’m just…”
“Nervous?”A reassuring smile plays at the edge of Violet’s lips.“Jagger already confirmed Bryan’s out there.You really think he’d come all this way and not bid on you tonight?”
“Maybe that’s part of the problem,” I mumble.
“What do you mean?”
“Not all of us are dating billionaires, Vi,” I point out dryly.“Bryan doesn’t have a lot of extra cash, and what he does have, he gives most of it to his mom to help keep his family afloat.”
“Really?”She juts out her bottom lip, and a sheen hits her eyes like she just found the most adorable puppy on the planet.“That’s actually pretty sweet.”
“It is, until I beg him to spend his hard-earned money on a date with me,” I counter.“I even offered to pay him back whatever he bids, but he basically told me that wasn’t going to happen, which means I feel really bad.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Well, I do.”
“Well, you shouldn’t,” she pushes.“Besides, he isn’t going to spend money he doesn’t have, so don’t stress.Bryan can handle it.”
Bryan.Sweet, caring Bryan.I almost feel sorry for the guy.When I extended an invitation to him, he admitted these kinds of things aren’t usually in his repertoire, but he likes me so much that he’s more than happy to tag along to anything and everything as my plus-one.To say I was flattered would be an understatement.To say any invitation ever since his admission feels a little…tainted?Yeah.That’s also a massive understatement.He’s nice, though.Attractive.Diligent.And he came to support me, even when he most definitely didn’t have to, which is really chivalrous.
Right?
I tug at the silky fabric, making sure my boobs stay covered while simultaneously avoiding Violet’s knowing gaze.“Gah.I still feel bad?—”
“June,” Violet whines.“Stop fussing.”She gently smacks my fidgeting hands.“I’ve seen the way Bryan looks at you.You’re fine.Trust me.”
She’s right.I’ve seen the way Bryan looks at me, too.The issue is, anytime I think about it, another image flashes shortly after.It’s Ford’s expression from the bonfire.When he tried my marshmallow.And no, marshmallow is not a euphemism for anything else, thank you very much.I squeeze my eyes shut and pull up an image of Bryan.Sweet, caring Bryan.Nice, attractive, diligent Bryan.In his cute little fireman outfit and his shy smile.This is a guy worth dating.This is a guy worth settling down with.This is a guy worth pursuing.Not Ford.Sweet, caring Bryan.Ford?No-no.Bryan.Yes-yes.
I continue the mantra and open my eyes, letting out a slow, soothing breath as I peek into one of the mirrors set up backstage.Just like Lexie suggested, we went with straightening my wavy hair to keep my cleavage from getting out of hand.Not sure it did a darn thing, but I do like how sleek and smooth my hair looks.I drag the ends through my fingers, impressed with the lack of flyaways and split ends.The makeup is a lot smokier than I’ve ever worn, but because Lexie’s a master at makeup, I look sultry and sexy instead of a wonky clown like I would’ve expected if I’d been the one behind the task.Reaching for my earlobe, I fiddle with the diamond earrings my parents gave me a few years back and rub my red-painted lips together.I look like a stranger.Dare I say it?Asexystranger.And if it gets me an extra bid or two, I’m not complaining as long as it doesn’t hurt Bryan’s wallet.
Peeking between the heavy curtains, I assess the crowded area in front of the stage.Cobie must be proud of herself.Almost every seat is taken around the circular tables still littered with the aftermath of finger foods and beverages from the open bar along the back.And each of those seats is filled with a pair of eyes planted directly on our gracious host for the evening.
Cobie was smart to offer free hors d'oeuvres and alcohol to everyone purchasing a ticket tonight.I bet most of them are three sheets to the wind at this point, and they’re anxious to get the party started.Now, if I could only get my own nerves in check, that would be perfect.
“Thank you so much for coming.”Cobie’s voice echoes through the speakers as she stands in front of a podium on the right-hand side of the stage.She looks pretty in a white, knee-length dress, her honey-brown hair pulled over one shoulder.I wonder how much she would’ve brought in for charity if she’d signed up to donate her time to the auction instead of simply hosting it.Probably a thousand dollars all on her own.
On the text thread Cobie created to keep all of the volunteers informed, there were at least twenty numbers.Considering how many girls linger backstage with Violet and me, I’d say it’s twice as many.
I need a drink.
“As some of you may know,” Cobie’s feminine voice rings out.“My mother was killed by a drunk driver when she…” Cobie shakes her head.“It doesn’t matter.But, it was…rough.”A somberness envelops her words.“As I’m sure you can imagine, losing your mom is no picnic, but something beautiful came out of it.”She looks down at her iPad, though I can’t decide if it’s because her speech is written on it, or if she’s avoiding eye contact with the crowd as she shares something so personal in a room full of strangers.“Soon afterward, my father created the Charity Harden Foundation to not only honor my mother, but also help families who experience anything similar.”Her quiet sniffle hits my sternum.“And, when I decided to move back to Harden Heights, my father, the amazing Titas Harden—” She motions to one of the tables in the crowd.Clapping ensues, and Cobie pauses, giving her father a moment to shine in the spotlight.
My gaze falls on Jagger, Ford, Hawke, and their father, Titas Harden.
I’ve never met the man.I’m not sure I want to, either.From what little I’ve gathered during my conversations with Violet, he’s a vile human being who’s been nothing but a hindrance.Maybe it’s harsh, but it’s Violet’s assessment, not mine, and I trust her judgment.
Hearing Cobie’s perspective is strange, though.I can’t decide if she’s being honest and actually believes everything she’s saying about him, or if it’s a performance.A carefully calculated move to stay in her father’s good graces.Did he put her up to this?Her father?If I were to ask Violet, I bet she’d say yes.What about Hawke, or Jagger, or Ford?My brows furrow as I study them at the table.Their expressions are locked down.Not a single crack in their demeanor.And it’s strange.Because the boys I know are charismatic and sarcastic and confident.Right now, they’re nothing but stone.Is it from the mention of their mother’s passing, or the crowd’s blatant approval of their father?
As the clapping quiets down, Cobie continues.“My father encouraged me to consider things I feel passionate about, and how I can take that passion to make a difference in this world the same way he has, time and time again.”
“Bleh,” Violet mutters under her breath beside me.“Gross.”
