S.E.C.R.E.T. (Secret 1)

“We are still short of our goal, but we do have one more bachelorette up for auction. Cassie works as a waitress at Café Rose, one of our esteemed sponsors. So I guess, let’s open bidding at $500, shall we?”

Oh God, oh God, someone take pity on me and get this over with. I’ll actually pay you back if you just give me one low bid and get me off this podium, I thought. But when a man’s voice said, “I’ll start the bidding at $5,000,” I was sure I had misheard. The spotlight was on me and I could hardly see the faces in the crowd.

“Did you say $500, Mr. Castille?” Kay asked.

Mr. Castille? Did Pierre Castille just bid $500? For me?

“No. I said $5,000, Kay. I’d like to open the bidding at $5,000,” he said, stepping towards the podium and into the spotlight where I could finally see him. His eyes looked me over like I was a sweet confection he’d never tried before. I clasped my hands in my lap, then crossed my legs, then uncrossed them.

“That’s … that’s very generous, Monsieur Castille. We open at $5,000. Anyone willing to go higher?”

“$6,000,” said a voice in the back, a voice belonging to … Will.

He came back? Tracina shifted on her stool and pursed her glossy lips. What was Will thinking? He didn’t have that kind of money!

“$7,000,” said Pierre, glancing over at Will. I felt sick to my stomach, then felt amazing. Then sick again.

“$8,000,” Will choked.

Tracina shot me an angry look and threw the same one at Will, who was moving to the front of the room to stand beside Pierre. What was Will doing? Kay was about to slap the gavel down to announce a victory to Will, when Pierre announced, “I bid $50,000.” The crowd gasped in astonishment. “Does that get you to your goal, Kay?”

Kay was dumbfounded. “Monsieur Castille, $50,000 gets us well past that. Any other takers?”

The look on Will’s face almost made me cry. He dropped his head and smiled the smile of the defeated.

“And, sold!” Kay yelled, closing the bidding with a pound of her gavel against the podium. “Let the dancing begin!”

The crowd immediately began to chatter and rise from their seats, making their way to the empty space in front of the stage.

Tracina sprung off her stool and disappeared among the throng to find her bidder. Pierre stood at the edge of the stage, a grin on his face, Will standing awkwardly beside him.

“Good try, old friend,” Pierre said, clapping Will a little too hard on the back. “I’ll be sure to stop by the Café now that I have a good reason to.”

“You do that,” he said. “Cassie, I hope you don’t … Oh forget it. I’m going home.”

Before I could say anything, Will disappeared in the crowd.

“You look magnificent, Miss Robichaud,” Pierre said. “Fit for a prince,” he added as he took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor, his bodyguards never far behind.

I could sense the question in everyone’s minds as they watched us: Who is this girl who has so captivated Pierre Castille? And even though other couples were now joining the dance floor, it felt like Pierre and I were the only two people in the room. He pulled me so close I could feel his breath on my neck. When the band started and he began to move me around the floor, I thought I would faint.

“Why me?” I asked. “You can have any girl you want.”

“Why you? You’ll understand why after you accept the Step,” he said, holding me even tighter.

Pierre Castille is a S.E.C.R.E.T. participant? “I … but … you?”

“Cassie, do you accept?”

It took me a few seconds to absorb the fact that this man was a participant. Who else in this room was part of S.E.C.R.E.T., or knew about it? Kay? The D.A.? A debutante or two? The room spun along with my mind until the band ended the song with a flourish. Pierre released me and kissed my hand.

“Thank you for the dance, Miss Cassie Robichaud. Until we meet again.”

I wanted to scream, Wait! I do accept the Step! But did I? What about Will? Pierre bowed deeply, then left the room surrounded by his security guards, stranding me alone on the dance floor. I looked around for Matilda, Amani, anyone besides Tracina, but of course Tracina was the first to get to me.

“Aren’t you a little mystery,” she said, fist on the waistband of her wilted tutu.

“Where’s Will?” I asked, craning my neck to try to find him.