Page 63 of Blacklist

“How charming,” Luca says under his breath.

“There are some really adorable animals,” Poppy says, oblivious to his sarcasm.

Everyone claps as Kai takes the stage with a microphone in hand. He beams a million-dollar smile at them. “Good evening and thank you to everyone who came out to help us support the Valmont Animal Rescue.”

Last year he was nominated for a Grammy, and now he’s stuck entertaining socialites in the name of friendship. Kai is just another object in the Valmont collection of treasures, expected to return at a moment’s notice whenever they need to use him for a function. He’s a crystal vase brought out of the china cabinet for special occasions.

“Tonight, you’re going to meet some of the animals you’re saving with your adoption money,” he continues.

Adair quietly rejoins us at the table. I want to keep her in my sights, so I pretend to be absorbed by the overview of how the auction will work.

“If there’s a guinea pig, I’m bidding,” Luca warns in a whisper.

“Thank God, they don’t let you keep the animals,” I mutter.

“I would make an excellent pet owner.” He clutches his chest.

“No, you would not.” I can’t imagine Luca being responsible for another living creature.

“Everyone, say hello to Diamond,” Kai says as an older woman in a black satin gown carries a tabby cat on to the stage. She looks uncomfortable, her dress isn’t designer or expensive. Undoubtedly, she’s a volunteer who has been tapped to parade around the animal population for the amusement of the Valmont elite.

“Diamond started her life on the mean streets of Nashville. She enjoys scratching posts, belly rubs, and catnip. Now don’t forget, ladies, diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” Kai looks pained to say this bit, and I’m about to ask who wrote the script when he hits us with: “The bidding will begin at one thousand dollars.”

Luca sits up and stares around. “A thousand bucks for an alley cat? These people have lost their damn minds.”

I chuckle quietly. I suspect he hasn’t seen anything yet.

When the bidding concludes, Diamond raises just under three thousand dollars for charity.

“I take it all back,” Luca says quietly. “This is genius. I wonder if I can get one of these women to adopt me.”

Judging from how many women in the room keep glancing in our direction, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find willing matrons. Not that he needs the money.

Next up, a small terrier catches the eye of Ginny. Malcolm grudgingly raises his paddle, looking uneasily at me. He shrugs as if to say women. We both know he doesn’t have the money just to show off for philanthropy. That doesn’t stop him from driving the price up to $5000, though. He winds up in a pissing contest with another man whose wife is whispering furtively in his ear. It’s like their entire reputations rest on what sad dog to fake adopt.

“And now the lovely Adair MacLaine would like to introduce you to Zeus,” Kai says, and I’m surprised to see Adair leading a giant black dog onto the stage. Zeus has a brutal look to his muscular body. There’s clearly pit bull in his blood. But he doesn’t strain against his leash. His tongue lolls comically out the side of his mouth. “Zeus came to our facility after being saved from an animal shelter that doesn’t have a no kill policy. It’s animals like Zeus that need our help. He was discovered chained up in a yard in East Nashville, but despite his rough beginnings, he’s proven to be a gentle giant. The bidding will start at $300.”

“Why so low?” I asked Poppy. “Cats are going for thousands for fuck’s sake.”

“He’s a mix,” she explains. “They’re impossible to adopt—at least to families. Most people don’t want their children around that type of dog. We’re very selective about potential owners, but he hasn’t had a single interested party in the three months he’s been at a shelter. He was scheduled for euthanasia at his prior rescue.”

I know a thing or two about being unwanted, how it feels to be passed around like people are just taking turns putting up with you. When the bidding starts there’s hesitation. A few spare pitying glances, others return to conversations. He’s not the adorable puppy that makes for sweet social media photos. Adair whispers something and the dog sits immediately. He soaks up the praise as she pats his head.

“Why is Adair up there?” I ask.

“She volunteers at the shelter. You know how she loves animals.”

“Ever since she had to stop riding, this has been her passion,” Cyrus adds.

“She stopped riding?” This is a surprise.

“Competitively,” Poppy tacks on, shooting daggers at her boyfriend.

There’s a story here. A few more glasses of wine and I’ll get one of them to spill it. For now, I can’t stop looking at Zeus. The bidding has already tapered out. He isn’t going to raise more than $400 when it’s all said and done.

“Adair adores him,” Poppy says, “but she’ll never adopt him.”

So, she loves him, but he doesn’t deserve a place in her heart? Before I realize what I’m doing my paddle is in the air.