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Several more seconds tick by, and the auctioneer repeats the starting bid. I bite the inside of my lower lip and lift my chin a fraction.
Five hundred dollars? That has to be my mother’s doing.
The room is devoid of paddles in the air. I’m looking now. Hard. A girl I went to high school with smirks near the front of the group.
Oh, this is bad. So bad.
Why didn’t it occur to my mother that no one would pay for a date with the so-called Ice Queen? I’ve heard the rumors, and they suit me just fine.
Or was that part of her plan all along? Did she know about Grandfather’s will before she signed me up for this pageant?
Palms sweating, I glance back at Alex. Will he bid on me? Is that wild connection I always feel whenever we’re within ten feet of each other real, or is it all in my head?
Next to him, Gabriel stares at me. It’s a long, cool look. Thoroughly appraising. Almost as if he’s asking if I want him to join the fray.
My frenemy suddenly seems like a prize.
I give him the tiniest nod.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t lift his paddle.
My heart thunders. I’m going to strangle my mother.
My gaze ping-pongs between the two men. It’s only been a few seconds. Why does it feel like five lifetimes?
“One thousand.” Gabriel’s paddle flashes. Sweet relief shoots through me, and my knees go weak.
Alex’s head swivels toward him so fast it’s almost comical.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see another paddle above everyone’s head.
Tyler.
What the heck is he doing?
The auctioneer confirms the bid, and an ache takes up residence behind my breastbone.
This is exactly as awful as I’d feared.
Bright lights. All eyes on me. A murmur rippling through the crowd. Speculation and gossip.
My temples begin to pound in time with my heartbeat.
“Five thousand.”
My gaze snaps to Alex, and that’s when I wobble, my knees almost giving.
Gabriel shoots him a baffled look. What the hell are you doing?
Alexander dips his chin ever so slightly to the side, his dark eyes never leaving me. Not even to recognize his friend.
His best friend.
I let out a slow breath, and an ounce of the anxiety fades.
On the other side of the room, Tyler calls out, “Fifty-five hundred.”
Cheapskate. His investments alone would have brought in eight figures last quarter.
