Chapter One
This was the last place Samantha Matthews wanted to be.
The dentist with some random person’s fingers in her mouth. Standing in the pouring rain in a sheer white shirt with no bra on. Hiking in ten feet of snow with only a pair of high heels to protect her feet. Stuck in an elevator with her ex from college. Heck, all those things combined, shoved into one day…
Would still be preferable to this.
Caviar and champagne filled the tabletops around her. Expensive perfume peppered the air. Priceless pearls dangled around necks. Diamonds twinkled in the lights. Gucci and Prada draped over artfully exposed shoulders. Stuffy voices with fake, trilling laughs topped off what was pretty much her worst nightmare. Nine out of ten times, people like the ones around her were concerned about one thing and only one thing. Money.
She’d been one of them.
When she walked away from her life of wealth and luxury, she’d left this whole scene, too. Fundraisers. Lavish dinners. Balls. They were all ridiculous excuses to put on your best diamonds and show off how much more money you had than everyone else in the room.
She’d always won that contest, even at a young age.
Those days are gone.
Tonight, she’d forgone the private appointments for a custom gown and worn a dress she bought on clearance at Macy’s last year.
She’d never been happier.
“More champagne, miss?” A waiter brandished a golden tray filled with whiskey and champagne like some kind of prize. Today it was.
Money might not buy happiness, but champagne sure made the world seem a little happier, even if only for a little while. “Thank you.”
The waiter bowed and moved on to the next guest. A woman in last year’s Prada sneered at Sam’s clothing, so she lifted her glass in salute and took a long swig. The bubbles played on her tongue, tickling her throat as she swallowed. After the older woman turned away, Sam scanned the room for any signs of her target.
He hadn’t bothered to show up yet…at least, she didn’t think he had.
Of course, she didn’t actually know him.
Her best friend Izzy texted her three hours ago, begging for Sam to bail her out. Izzy was running off with her boyfriend and getting married, unbeknownst to the rest of her family, but she had previously promised to attend this charity auction fundraiser and bid on her brother, whose assistant had mistakenly RSVP’d yes to the event.
According to Izzy, her older brother Andrew was a bit of a recluse. He wasn’t big on crowds or getting auctioned off to the highest bidder, so he had no intention of actually going out on a date with any of the women here to bid on him. But since his sister was off marrying a guy none of them liked…
Enter Sam.
It was now her job to find Andrew Michaelson, bid however much money she had to on him, and save him from a fate worse than death itself—being forced into a situation he didn’t want.
She took another sip and squinted at the stage. A handsome man was currently on the auction block, seeming as if he wanted to be swallowed up whole by the earth, and she winced in sympathy. She wouldn’t want to stand there while people bid on her worth, either. Her fingers twitched in her lap, eager to put the guy out of his misery, but she flattened them on her thigh.
He wasn’t the man she was supposed to save today. She mentally checked the schedule she’d read earlier, remembering that Izzy’s brother would appear onstage last, so there were still several guys left before he popped up.
Turning her attention to her phone, she skimmed an email.
We had four people drop out of tomorrow’s build at West Fourth Street. We are asking for any and all volunteers to step forward and fill their spots so we can still reach our goals. If you’re available, please let us know by replying to this email.
Sam bit on her tongue as she mentally juggled her commitments for the weekend. She was booked to help at the animal shelter on Saturday, but they certainly wouldn’t mind if she pushed her volunteer date to Sunday.
I’m in. See you at nine.
She checked the stage again, but they still had two more bachelors to go before they got to her man at the end. Picking up her champagne, she took another sip and opened Candy Crush on her phone. Time to demolish her record.
Somewhere between candy explosions, two more men, and a finished glass of champagne, Sam lifted her head, and her heart stopped beating for a second. The last man strode out, and he walked onto the stage like he owned the place—which, if she didn’t know any better, she just might believe. He was incredibly handsome, in that he-must-be-an-actor-because-he’s-too-pretty-to-be-normal kind of way. His muscles were huge and hard. His brown hair was slicked to the side with a hard part, and his square jaw spoke of a stubbornness only someone with equal stubbornness such as herself would recognize.
He wore a black tuxedo with a deep blue bow tie, a cocky expression, and walked onstage with his phone in his hand, typing furiously and ignoring the crowd of ladies who watched him with bated breath.
Hello, Izzy’s brother.
Even she had to admit that, despite being totally not her type and way too sure of himself, he was hot with a capital H. Of course, he probably used
those looks and his money to get pretty much anything he wanted, whenever he wanted it. It was what men like him did.
That was why she avoided them.
But those arms…
Forcing herself to stop admiring the way his jacket hugged his broad shoulders, she grabbed her orange flag off the table and waved it enthusiastically, happy to finally be at the part where she could bid and leave. Two hours was more than enough, thank you very much.
“One thousand, to the lady in red.”
Izzy’s brother lifted his head, checked out Sam, and returned his attention to his phone, typing even more furiously now.
A blonde lifted her flag, smiling at the guy on the stage.
He didn’t seem to notice.
“Fifteen hundred to the woman in gold.”
He didn’t even lift his head this time.