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Highest Bidder: Chapter 42

RULE #42: PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS

Daisy

I never should have let him leave. There was so much I wanted to say. Instead, I stuck around at the bar with Geo, Eden, and Mia for another hour before my exhaustion hit again, and Geo walked me home.

The entire night, instead of replaying every moment of being on that stage and singing my songs out loud for the first time, I was replaying the few short moments with him. I wish I could give him back that million dollars and make him mine again.

When I woke up today without an ounce of energy, I laid in bed all day, trying to catch up on enough sleep to make climbing out of bed even possible before my shift at the club. It’s packed today, and I’m still dragging as I try to deliver drinks to everyone here for the charity auction.

It’s probably a good thing he’s not here because if he knew that I skipped two meals today, he’d be very disappointed in me. But with everything going on lately, the most I can manage is a small snack here and there, without wanting to either throw up or pass out every chance I get.

Oh yeah, he’d be so pissed.

It’s so busy tonight that both bartenders are behind the bar and Mia has stepped in to help me deliver drinks.

“Quite a turnout,” I say as we pass each other. She beams proudly as she takes a look around the crowded room. As the event planner of the club, Mia puts a lot of work into each of these events, and I’ve never seen one go badly.

“If only I could get that billionaire boyfriend of yours to show up, I’d call it a real success.”

I stiffen at that word. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I correct her with a polite smile.

She screws her face up as she quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m just flustered. I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay, Mia,” I reply with a laugh. “Don’t worry about it.”

A moment later, the auction begins, and I’m so busy rushing around the room, I barely get to watch as each VIP rich guy takes the stage. On the side of the room, there’s a screen showing the bids as they grow higher and higher to the donation goal.

It’s rowdier than I’m used to, and I like the energy. Especially since they’re tipping bigger than normal tonight. When I look up and see Clay standing in the middle of the stage, he and I make eye contact. He shoots me a wide-eyed, scared-looking expression, and I laugh as I drop off a tray full of drinks at a table full of women excitedly bidding for a date with him.

They bid back and forth for a while, but just when I expect him to go to a nice older woman for over six grand, a confident voice at the back of the room calls out, “Ten thousand,” and we all turn to see Madame Kink herself holding up a hand with a devious grin.

When I catch him grinning back, the announcer calls it, and everyone cheers just as Clay climbs down from the stage. I make a mental note to myself to ask her about that later. I sort of assumed it was a one-time thing with them. But maybe I was wrong.

After Clay, there are a few more men to take the stage, and I start to feel more and more dizzy with each trip back and forth from the bar. I just need to keep it together for another hour and then I can ask to be cut early and go home to sleep this off.

“All right, ladies. You won’t want to miss this one,” the announcer says, and I’m barely paying attention until I hear his name. “Mr. Ronan Kade.”

I whirl around so fast, the room keeps spinning once my eyes have met his. He’s standing on stage in a black suit, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He shoves one hand in his pocket as the other waves, shaking his head at the same time.

“Sorry,” he says proudly. “Not for auction tonight.”

“Awwww,” the announcer says, getting the crowd to join him.

“Only here to share that I’ll be matching the donation tonight—”

“Two thousand dollars!” a woman at the table nearby shouts with an excited giggle.

“Three thousand,” another woman shouts. When my gaze dances her way, I notice that she’s about my age, and my blood boils at the very idea of her touching him.

“Five thousand!” the first woman screams.

Pretty soon, the room erupts in bids and cheers. On the stage, Ronan looks humbled and slightly embarrassed as the announcer tries to control the crowd. But there is no controlling them. The bids are growing higher and higher, even without the announcer’s encouragement.

“One million dollars!”

Suddenly the crowd goes quiet and all the eyes in the room shift to stare in shock at me, my hand held proudly in the air. I’m looking at him with a buzz of excitement under my skin as his smile grows. The room is dead silent for three long seconds.

“Um…sold,” the announcer says, and the crowd breaks out in laughter. “I don’t know if anyone is going to beat that.”

On the screen next to the stage, the donation amount spikes, covering tonight’s goal and then some. My head starts to feel heavy and out of sorts as Ronan steps down from the low stage and walks toward me.

I distantly recognize that maybe I should be nervous about spending so much or losing the money he gave me, but it’s honestly the furthest thing from my mind. All I see is him coming closer. I manage a smile as he steps up to me.

“Why did you do that?”

“I couldn’t just stand by and let someone else win a date with you,” I reply. When I sway gently on my feet, Ronan reaches out a hand and catches my arm.

“Daisy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I mumble to myself, but the words barely leave my lips before the tunnel vision sets in and the room tilts completely. Then, I’m falling. At least this time, he’s there to catch me.


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