Wanted: A Bad Boy Auction Romance

“What about you? Have you even been looking for a job? I just don’t want you to become this trophy wife Addison. Not to mention that's not really your style.”

“And what’s my style? What's that supposed to mean?”

“The little socialites, going to fundraising dinners and hosting cocktail parties. That might be what Cole is looking for, but that’s not you. That’s certainly not us.”

“So what? Just because you and I were raised different than Cole, what’s that got to do with things? Elizabeth, that's kind of shitty thing to say.” Especially because she was right. Doubt pushed its way into my mind.

She didn't make eye contact continuing to go through invitations. “I can't believe how many people got back to you, considering it was such short notice.”

I could tell she was ignoring my comment but I couldn't really blame her. She was right, Cole’s world wasn’t my own. For God sakes, I was getting married to someone who was practically a stranger and that was all because he wanted me to. What was I doing? Who was I becoming? This was all completely insane! It didn't matter how good sex with Cole was, or all the things that I could get the money from the severance package.

I was marrying him! I looked at Elizabeth as she continued to sort through invitations making the final no pile when I realized I needed to talk to Cole now!

“Elizabeth, I'm actually going out for a bit. Can you lock up when you're done?”

She looked at me, her face was concern and annoyance etched into it.

“But I'm not even halfway done.”

I grabbed my keys off of the counter and I muttered to her, “You might not need to finish.”

Sixteen

Addison

I walked into the hospital already sweating and practically breathless. I felt like I was losing my mind. It was a smart girl, not the type that randomly got married because it gave them a lot of money. I was supposed to marry for love, not lust. How hadn't I seen this before?

I just needed reassurance from Cole. I just needed him to tell me that we could continue dating as we were while we got married. That everything would turn out okay. But as I rounded the first floor of the Children's Hospital I

saw my worst fears before my eyes. There was Cole laughing with one of the nurses, a petite blonde with full lips and even fuller breasts. She was touching his arm and giggling. He didn't even look up, totally focused on her. He never even noticed me as he turned around and she rubbed his shoulders laughing and giggling the whole time. She was giving him an impromptu massage.

Jealousy raged through my body.

Why was she touching him? What gave her that right? Not to mention what the hell was he doing? I suddenly realized I hadn't just come to the hospital for reassurance that our fake marriage wasn't totally fake but also for assurance the Cole actually liked me. That he cared. And here he was doing exactly what I should've expected him to be doing, acting like the total playboy that he was.

At one point I had been smart, I didn't like men interfere with my career or what I thought about myself. But ever since I had been with Cole things had just fallen apart. And that was my fault, I had let that happen. I had somehow let my worth be entirely about what he thought of me. And as I stood there with my mouth gaping open I realized that I was done with all of that. He could say whatever he wanted to say to get me into bed, but clearly, our relationship was still strictly professional. We were both in it for the money. And at the end of the day I would walk away with that big ass check and I would never have to see him again. But as the tears pricked the backs of my eyes I realized I couldn't see him again tonight either.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the hospital dialing the number of my best friends Kendall.

“Hey, I need a place to crash for tonight. Don't ask questions, just have wine.”

Seventeen

Cole

I dialed her number again but there was still no answer. So I left another fucking voicemail. “Addison. It's me. This is the sixth time I've called you. Where the hell are you? I need to know that you're okay. Call me back.”

I paced back and forth this in front of the kitchen island again looking over the couch onto the coffee table where invitations had been sorted. Clearly, she had been home at some point during the day, but now she was gone. Missing. Part of me wanted to call John over at the station and see if he could put out a missing person’s report on her because I didn't know what else to do. I was frantic, I had never been like this about a girl. Sometimes they left, that was just the way was.

But this time, it was different.

I was practically falling apart without her.

I needed her.

I had to make sure she was okay, wherever she was. But it was nearly midnight and I still hadn't heard from her. That meant something was wrong. Finally, the text came through.

Don't worry I'm with a friend. I'll meet you at the wedding planner tomorrow as we discussed. Don't call me anymore.