Page 16 of Auctioned To Be Mine

He stood from behind his desk and came around to greet me. He was probably in his early sixties, but he looked like he could still run a marathon. Tall, broad-shouldered, and a presence that just exuded success. His hair was silver-gray. His smile was genuine, and unlike so many in the business, he looked natural, forehead wrinkles and all. He was wearing jeans and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

He was objectively handsome. I wasn’t attracted to him—he was old enough to be my father—but I could appreciate that he was the kind of man who probably made women of all ages do a double-take.

For some inexplicable reason, I thought of the guy from the restaurant. The one who’d knocked me over. There was something similar about them. The confidence, maybe. The knowledge of knowing they were gorgeous.

Stop it, I told myself. Stop being obsessed with some stranger you’ll never see again.

“Victoria,” Max said, shaking my hand firmly. “It’s a pleasure. Please, sit.”

He gestured to a seating area near the windows, a couch and two chairs arranged around a coffee table. I sat on the edge of the couch, and he took one of the chairs.

“Lauren tells me you’re working with Betty’s charity,” he said. “The children’s hospital foundation.”

“Yes. We’re planning our annual fundraising auction, and we’re trying to secure some high-profile names to help draw donors.”

He nodded, listening intently. “Tell me more.”

I launched into my pitch. I told him about the families we served, the kind of support we provided, the difference the money made. I explained the auction format, the dinner dates, and, most importantly, the positive press. I tried to explain why it mattered. The kids who got to stay close to their families during treatment. The parents who didn’t have to choose between being at their child’s bedside and paying rent.

Max listened without interrupting. When I finished, he was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“That’s good work you’re doing,” he said finally. “Really good work. Betty’s one of the best people I know. If she’s running it, I know it’s being done right.”

Betty didn’t tell me she knew him this well. Apparently, my boss had connections I didn’t know about.

“She is,” I said. “She’s incredible.”

“So you need names,” he said. “Big ones.”

“Yes. We had someone lined up, but it fell through. We’re scrambling a bit, to be honest.”

He smiled. “I think I can help you out.”

Relief flooded through me. “Really?”

“I know two guys who would be perfect for this,” he said. “Both of them are successful, personable, and they could use a little positive PR. Plus, they’re single. Who knows? Maybe they’ll actually meet someone worth their time.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Max,” he corrected. “And don’t thank me yet. Let me make sure they’re on board first.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. “Let me show you who I’m thinking.”

He turned the phone toward me, and my stomach dropped.

It was them.

The guy from the restaurant. The one who’d knocked me over. And another man who looked almost identical—same dark hair, same strong jaw, same insufferable handsomeness. The other guy from outside the restaurant. They were both in the photo, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“That’s Callum and Drew,” Max said proudly. “My two eldest sons.”

I stared at the screen. His sons. Which meant the guy who’d bulldozed me and then smiled about it was part of one of the most powerful families in Hollywood.

“Great.” My voice sounded like I’d been sucking helium.

“They’re good boys,” Max said, completely unaware of my internal crisis. He was already typing out a message on his phone. “I’ll text them right now. Get this set up.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

He looked up and smiled. “It’s for a good cause. And honestly, it’ll be good for them too.”