Page 53 of The Heart You Kept

I take another gulp of champagne; this is going down way too well and shit, I’ve got the auction coming up.

Focus.

I put my champagne down onto the table with a thud.

No more.

An hour later the table is deep in conversation, the night has run smoothly and the fish was divine. As always, Pascal has been a dreamy date, the table has laughed and he’s been attentive to me. He’s a wonderful boyfriend and I’ve gained some perspective of the situation, just because I’m attracted to Edward doesn’t mean a thing. It was a shock to see each other, that’s all. It took him by surprise just as much as it took me and we lost our heads for a moment, that kiss means nothing, it will never ever happen again.

Of course we were going to be excited to see each other, we never thought we would.

I tried to find you.

Butterflies swirl in my stomach at the thought.

Did he try to find me…or did he just say that to make himself sound good, because truth be told I tried to find him too.

Why the hell are you thinking about this?

Stop it right now.

The MC gets up onto the stage. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to offer you a warm welcome to the Children’s Medical Research Annual Charity Fundraiser.”

The crowd claps loudly and my stomach flips, Pascal reads my mind and smiles and squeezes my hand in his. “You’ll be fine,” he whispers in my ear. I smile and look up into the stare of Edward. He’s sitting three tables over and is facing us.

Has he been watching us the entire time?

My god….

I snap my eyes away and try to focus on the MC and what he’s saying.

I’m going straight to fucking hell….

“Let’s start our charity auction tonight with a surfboard signed by none other than the legend himself, Jérémy Florès.”

Everyone has bidding paddles with numbers on them and as the excitement builds, people begin to hold them up to bid.

“One thousand.”

“Two thousand.”

“Fifty thousand,” a man calls, and the crowd cheers.

I take a gulp of champagne, if ever there was a night that I want to drink like a raging alcoholic, tonight’s the night.

I’m nervous, I’m flustered. I’m a horny, cheating, lying snake.

“Fifty thousand going once. Fifty thousand going twice. Fifty thousand going three times,” the auctioneer calls. “Sold.” He slams the hammer down. “A wonderful purchase to the gentleman on table two.”

The man stands and takes a bow as the crowd cheers. Okay, that wasn’t so bad, maybe I might survive.

“The second item to be auctioned tonight is a week on a superyacht in Saint-Tropez.”

The crowd rumbles with excitement.

Pascal picks up my hand and kisses the back of it as the bidding begins.

“Two thousand,” someone calls.