The curtains close on him and food is served. The food is delicious of course, but I find myself pushing the food around my plate and pretending to eat. I keep thinking that this is what my life is going to be after I marry Oliver. An endless string of the same type of empty functions with the kind of people I have nothing in common with. After I have play-acted consuming the dessert, the last event of the night begins.
The Precious Items Auction is where the guests take off their jewelry or personal items like watches and wallets, and give them up to be auctioned. The items are not collected beforehand, but donated on the spot together with the little receipts that have been left on each table describing the item in as much detail as possible for the auctioneer together with a suggested starting price.
One of the ladies at our table bequeaths her pearl necklace, another offers her rose-gold bracelet, and I take off my emerald and platinum earrings and place them on the platter.
The auction starts with Lady Schloss’s Cartier watch. On the screen behind the podium, a blown-up 360? image of the watch is shown. The starting price is £2,000.00. After a lively bidding it goes to her husband for £5,700.00. The same process is more or less repeated for nearly every woman who gives up her jewelry for auction. Her husband or fiancé ends up winning it back for her. It is all good-natured fun and a bit of charity included.
Then it is my earrings.
‘Kindly donated by Miss Tasha Evanoff,’ the auctioneer announces. ‘A pair of perfectly cut, flawless Brazilian emeralds set in platinum. Each perfect emerald is 4.5 carats.’
He lifts his hand.
‘Let’s start the bidding of at £5,000. Do I hear any takers? Yes, we have. To the gentleman at the back. At the side here. £5,500. Do I hear £6,000. Yes, we have £6,000. £6,500. £7,000 to the gentleman at the back. £7,500 to the gentleman in the red tie over at the side. £8,000. We have £8,500. This is a rare opportunity to buy a truly exquisite pair of earrings. £9,000. £9,500. £10,000. £10,500. Come on ladies and gentlemen. This is all for a good cause. Well done, we have £11,000 in the front. Anymore bids?’
He looks around hopefully.
‘Going once. Going twice.’ He nods at Oliver who has just raised his hand. ‘Thank you, Sir. We have £11,500.’
I smile sweetly at Oliver. All eyes are on us and we are both playing the part of a couple deeply in love.
‘Any more bids for this rare and magnificent pair of earrings?’ The auctioneer raises his hammer. ‘Oh, looks like a new bidder has entered the fray. £12,000.’
Both Oliver and I turn around to look at the new bidder and I freeze. My stomach drops. I cannot believe my eyes. Noah is sitting at Alexander Malenkov’s table.
Sweet Jesus. He is the one who bought that last ticket this morning!
There must have been a reshuffling of the table seating. Someone on the table must have exchanged places with him. Our eyes meet. And I can’t tear my eyes away. Lost in his gaze I don’t even hear the rest of the world.
Then I see him lift one finger and I hear the harsh indrawn breath Oliver takes. I tear my eyes away from him and stare unseeing at the drama unfolding on the stage.
£13,500 becomes £15,000. £15,000 becomes £20,000. £20,000 becomes £25,000. I feel Oliver shifting with irritation beside me. He doesn’t want to lose face, but the price will soon become too high for him. With a tight smile he nods, and nods, until the auctioneer’s hammer hits the gravel at £75,000!
Noah has won the earrings.
Oliver pretends to smile graciously. He is actually shaking with fury. He turns to me and kisses me on the lips, slowly and leisurely. His mouth is cool and smells of the orange liqueur drizzled on his chocolate dessert. When he takes his mouth away my gaze flies helplessly towards Noah. His eyes are blazing and his jaw is clenched so tight there is a white line around his mouth.
I drop my eyes. Over on the stage, the next item is being described by the auctioneer. My stomach swims as I turn blindly towards the item being displayed.
After the auction, they give away awards to some people who seem very grateful to receive them, then the dance floor lights come on and the DJ introduces himself.
I quickly excuse myself to go to the Ladies. As I get to the corridor, I see Noah leaning against the wall. He is with a woman, a beautiful redhead. It makes me want to gag. I can’t. I can’t even look at them together. The thought of him doing to her all the things he did to me is unbearable. It’s like molten lava pouring in my gut. Oh God. I spun a spider’s web of lust for myself. Now I sit trapped like prey in its silken ropes. As I stand there burning, rooted to the spot, he sees me, excuses himself, and walks over to me. His stride is relaxed and prowling.