Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Okay, let’s get this party started! Your first gentleman of the evening is none other than one of our favorite calendar boys … Dean Fanshaw!”
Dean strolls out, looking drop-dead gorgeous in head-to-toe black.
“He’s a—”
“I’ll give you five bucks for him!” Justine belts out, standing up to wave her paddle in the air.
The place erupts with laughter as Dean shakes his head and chuckles, his cheeks flushing. The minimum bid set is fifty, and there is no way he doesn’t remember Justine.
I tug her back down into her seat. “You are cut off!”
She grins, unfazed.
I wish I had her brash, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude.
“We’ve got some eager ladies here tonight. But just hold on there …” Mike chuckles. “Let me say my little spiel first.”
He gives a thirty-second introduction to Dean that paints him a saint and definitely does not mention that he shagged his schoolmate’s mom, the infamous Dottie Reed, five years ago. And then the bidding begins. “Do I hear fifty dollars?”
The paddles start waving.
My eyes are glued on Griffin’s hand cradling my mother’s on top of the table as he leans over to ask Justine, “So, what do you think about our little charity event?”
“This is exhausting. I’m exhausted,” Justine declares, flopping into her chair with dramatic flair.
Griffin turns to me. “What about you, Scarlet?”
“Oh, I don’t think you want to ask her. She does not approve,” my mother warns.
“Actually, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” I admit. The entire place buzzes with energy and laughter. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. “And it’s for charity.” A lot of charity. The nine men who’ve made their way to the stage thus far have earned a staggering amount for the Santa Fund.
And there’s still one left to go.
My nerves are a mess as Mike appears from behind the heavy curtain, chugging back a gulp of water. He’s been nothing short of brilliant all night. “Are we ready for our last hero on the auction block?” A loud chorus cheers.
Shane steps out and my jaw drops at the sight of him standing there onstage in a black-on-black tux, his wavy hair styled, and that devilish smirk, complete with dimples.
He’s utter perfection. He knows it. I know it.
Every person in this goddamn restaurant knows it.
But most of them don’t know the man beyond what they see up there. I do. I know what he looks like beneath that fancy outfit. I know how his wavy hair falls when he first wakes. I know the way his eyes dance with mere mention of his son, and all the ways he swallows his pride and sacrifices his own happiness to keep Cody happy. I know how he suffered an enormous loss and chose a noble path, helping others. I spent years convinced Shane was an arrogant player. Now, I watch him on that stage and I know he’s there not for ego or accolades, but simply because his heart is genuinely good.
He’s everything I want.
A deep ache pangs in my chest as I accept that he’s no longer mine.
“This hero needs no introduction, but I’ll give you one anyway. Shane Beckett is none other than …” I barely listen to Mike, too busy gaping at a man I am undoubtedly in love with standing under the bright lights.
He catches my eye and flashes one of his secretive smiles that he knows I love, before shifting his attention back to the crowd. He struts across the front of the stage, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Should we bother starting at fifty?” Mike bellows with a grin. “Nah. Do I hear two hundred dollars?”
Paddles wave wildly.
“And sold, for a record amount, to the stunning redhead in the black dress.” Mike points to the table where Penelope sits with a group I don’t recognize.
“Pretty, but psycho,” Justine sings under her breath, eyeing my childhood nemesis. “Kind of weird to buy a date with your baby daddy, isn’t it?”
“It’s a write-off for her company,” I say, even as I’m pondering what Penelope’s angle is. She always has an angle. Is this her way of still claiming Shane?
She turns then, as if sensing us talking about her. One perfect eyebrow arches in challenge, followed by a smile of satisfaction.
Yeah, the Red Devil’s still in there.
“And that is a wrap! Thank you, everyone, for your incredible generosity!” Mike bows before a standing ovation and, with a salute to the crowd, strolls off the stage. Shane disappears behind the curtain, much to my chagrin.
Just like that, the night is over. It’s time to go home, back to my daily life that no longer includes Shane. A wave of discontent hits me.
“Scarlet, have you seen this?” my mother asks.
“Seen what?” I turn to find her studying Justine’s copy of the calendar with amusement.
She thrusts it in front of my face.