Thinking she was talking about the TV show—something I’d never watched an episode of in my life—I zoned out of the discussion and looked around the room. There were celebrities and movie stars at tables with people that were clearly just your average joes, talking to them like they were of the same elk. It came as a shock, but I made a point of memorizing their names so I could buy their products or watch their movies in support. I loved it when famous people didn’t care what ‘level’ other people came from.
I was brought back into the conversation when someone asked, “Will you be bidding on him, Ashley?”
Not wanting to make it obvious that I hadn’t been listening, I nodded and smiled. “Of course. Who wouldn’t?”
The smiles and laughter the response got didn’t clue me in to what we were discussing, but the way Kip’s eyes softened on me definitely put me on guard.
Before I could ask what was up, the emcee announced that our meals were being served, and a plate with some sort of fluffy foam, some small toast points and what looked like a brown mush was placed in front of me.
I could only assume that this was meant to be ‘fine dining’, something I’d never understood. If my food came in a portion that wouldn’t feed a toddler, was something that I couldn’t pronounce, and looked like this, how was that ‘fine’?
Not wanting to embarrass myself, though, I picked up a toast point and gingerly nibbled on a corner. When it didn’t invoke my gag reflex, I took a slightly bigger bite, bracing for the moment the mush hit my taste buds.
“It’s not going to kill you,” Kip murmured out of the corner of his mouth before popping the whole thing in it.
“Like I’d trust anything you said,” I muttered, taking another small bite.
It actually wasn’t bad. There were definitely herbs in it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Shrugging, I popped the rest of it in my mouth and almost moaned when the full flavor of it hit me. Holy shit, that was good. In fact, it was so good that I put the other piece in my mouth and then looked around the table to see if anyone wasn’t eating theirs. There were two women—both brunettes—who were looking at their plates with distaste.
Seeing where I was looking and guessing why, Kip asked, “If you aren’t eating yours, could Ashley have them, please?”
Both women looked at me like I had two heads, and one of them screwed her face up.
“I don’t know how you can eat fois gras. Who eats goose liver and fat and calls it a delicacy?”
Gulping as the words registered, I started taking deep breaths to stop the toast points coming back up.
The problem was, with each breath in, I could taste it all over again. It was so good, but it was the liver of a goose, man!
A glass of something fizzy appeared under my nose.
“Drink this. It’ll help.”
Desperate to get rid of the taste, I grabbed it and shot it back like it was water. In fact, in my panic, I’d actually thought that it was sparkling water, but it turned out to be champagne. Did that stop me? No, I finished that glass like a boss.
I really should have ended the night there, but instead I stuck it out. I would say I regretted it, but I ended up having way too much fun for that.Chapter 3Kip“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” the emcee said excitedly into his microphone as he walked across the stage. “At least, the women have been waiting for,” he winked.
“Oh, I dunno,” Will drawled, leaning back in his seat with a big grin on his face. “This part is going to be the highlight of my evening.”
Yeah, he would say that. Our PR team had decided that it would be a good way to raise money for those of us who didn’t have significant others to be auctioned off for dates. Seeing as how he had Meg, he didn’t have to do it and could laugh at our expense.
Once the excited squeals that had followed the emcee’s words died down, he continued, “This isn’t the television version of The Bachelor, he isn’t going to be holding a rose and choosing amongst all of you fine women. No, you get to choose him. Tonight, we have players from the Seahawks who have offered themselves up for this segment, and whoever bids the highest on them, wins a date.”
The screams started up again making me wince.
“First up, we have Kip Sutherland.”
We hadn’t been told which one of us would start, only that we would be called up individually from our seats, so I wasn’t prepared. Regardless, I got up and walked toward the stage, flashing a grin out at the sea of people at their tables.