“I was planning on having it framed—next to your head.”
When we pulled onto the street, a line of limousines stretched for what seemed like miles in front of the event hall. Paparazzi and media hounds ran back and forth over the red carpet. Jake had the driver pull around to the side of the building where a group of valet drivers waited for the guests that preferred a more incognito entrance.
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When we stopped, Jake took my hand and let me slip out of the limousine, like a star on her way to a premiere. I took a quick look around when we got out. Most of the women wore different versions of the classic red slit dress. I felt like a princess among commoners. The contrast was stunning, and it showed. People stared at me.
I wanted to feel flattered, but I wasn’t there as his girlfriend. I was his painted whore. It didn’t matter how much my outfit cost; he was going to pay me at the end of the night. Still, the mood was infectious, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off me.
I fell in love with the event hall right away. Arched exits lined the walls, showing off the city lights beyond. Displays of red and white roses flanked the exits on either side. An elderly woman with a roller set came up and gave me a scrutinizing stare.
“I still don’t see why you wanted to do this, Jake,” she said.
“Samantha, that is a lovely gown you’re wearing,” he said. “Have you met my girlfriend, Maria?”
“Nice to meet you,” she said and stormed off.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“One of the pesky board members. I call her the wasp.” We walked to the bar, and he ordered us both glasses of champagne. I took in the room while I sipped my drink. Everyone moved from person to person mindlessly. Rows of tables had been set up around the room, and well-dressed staff put the finishing touches on the stage beyond the tables.
“You better be having fun,” Jake said.
“You’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?”
“I couldn’t help myself.” He kissed me behind the ear. He was lucky the lights were darkening. Otherwise, people would’ve noticed. We took our seats near the back of the room and watched as an old lady wearing a bright red church hat and a white dress walked out on stage.
A projector rolled out behind her, and she went through a series of heartbreaking pictures of cancer victims smiling and laughing. I started to tear up and had to wipe my face. It was humiliating. I didn’t want him to see it, but he gave me my dignity and pretended not to notice.
An elderly man came up on stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you for coming and showing your support to the Rose Foundation. As many of you know, there are millions of people in this country that can’t afford the healthcare they need to survive.”
I teared up again. I had to stop this. Jake took my hand and squeezed, and I melted into my seat. I couldn’t let him do that. He wasn’t supposed to comfort me. He was supposed to pay me and throw me away. This was nothing short of torture.
“You’re saving lives by coming here tonight,” the man went on. “I hope you know that. I, myself, am a cancer survivor, and if it weren’t for the good grace of people like you, I wouldn’t be here today. That’s why I’m honored with the opportunity to begin this auction. This is not a contest as to who can pay more. You’re welcome to make your donations silently. Rather, it’s a display of good will and support to the people that need your help. Let’s start our opening bid with $100.”
I looked around the room and melted. There were dozens of paddles lifted in the air. It was a token donation, but it would mean so much. They moved on through the hundreds and into the thousands, where the crowd watched as people gave one, two, then $3,000.
“This is really amazing.” I wiped my tears away. “These people need it so much. It’s hell what they go through.”
“That’s why I came,” Jake said.
“I feel bad, though.”
“Why?”
“Well, here I am enjoying my free drink watching everyone give their savings away, and there’s nothing I can do. I don’t have anything to give.”
Jake lifted his paddle. “Fifteen thousand,” he called out.
I froze, and the entire room turned to look at us. I wanted to shrink into a hole. “Fifteen thousand,” the auctioneer called out. “Thank you.” The entire room erupted in applause, and I started bawling. I wanted to run out of the room. He was either a sadist or a saint. I couldn’t tell which, but he’d just done something amazing.
He rested his hand on my back and leaned in to whisper. “You don’t have to give anything. I’m just glad to have you here.” He kissed me on the cheek and left a burst of warmth behind when he pulled away.
“That was enough to save a man’s life; you know that, don’t you?”
“Good, I’d do it a thousand times over,” he said and kissed me again. He got up to get us some drinks, and I was left to watch as the people around the room gave enough money to put 100 people into remission.
When I turned back, he walked across the room with a man following him. The man was angled away from me so I couldn’t see his face until it was too late. It was my old accounting professor, and he was coming my way. I wiped my tears and pasted on my best smile.