I shook my head. “The lights were too bright.” I looked up. “How did you hear about a director?” I hadn’t seen her speak to anyone else. As soon as we arrived we were ushered into a room where someone explained the contents of the non-disclosure contact we were required to sign.
We also had the option of having our hair and makeup touched up and a complimentary glass of champagne, but only one. I wished I had accepted it. Drinking beyond that was prohibited.
She shrugged. “One of the girls in the back said they’re shooting a movie in Harwina. It’s a possibility.”
“That’s an hour from here.” Talking helped. Concentrating on facts. Miles between cities. Those things cleared my head. I tried to picture the road from Freychon to Harwina. I had been there once.
“But this is The Titan.” She beamed. “It’s legendary.”
“Right. Legendary,” I whispered.
“Cherie, cherie, it is time.”
“Oh no. No. No. No.” I shook my head.
I was surprised at how strong he was for having such a slight build. Within seconds he had nudged me forward and the spotlight landed on my feet.
“Tally seven-seven-seven.” The MC’s voice rang clear as he announced my number.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. There was a hand on the small of my back as I was thrust on the stage.
/>
The MC cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”
It started rapidly.
I tried to follow the voices as they called out, but in the pit of darkness it was impossible. Some sounded older than other. I even heard an American or two mixed in. I squinted, feeling my heart race. I tried to ground myself. I tried to breathe.
I tried to pretend that auctioning myself off for a night to Galona’s secret society was exactly what I wanted to do.
3
Damon
“That is the one,” Ashford suggested, pointing to the next number on his ticket. It was creased down the middle. I don’t know why he didn’t just leave it on the table instead of folding it in his pocket in between tenders. “Your type. I can tell.”
I was impatient. Tonight’s tally wasn’t impressive. None of them held my attention. They were all the same. Cleavage. Poufy hair. More makeup than a cover model. At this point I didn’t know what would hold my attention. Did I think another gala would give me something? Push me? Excite me? A six-month break hadn’t awakened a renewed interest.
“I don’t have a type.” I strummed my fingers on the table.
“That could change after tonight.”
“I didn’t see her,” I admitted. He was referring to seven-seven-seven.
“Invest,” he coaxed.
“I have invested plenty in this country,” I snapped.
Ashford’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Fine. Then I’ll invest.”
I picked up my bourbon. Malcom Caron continued with his description of the next tally. I listened indifferently. I didn’t care where she was from or what her favorite movie was. Ashford could have her. He could have all of them. It had taken too long to get to this point. Tonight’s gala was a complete fuck up. I may have stopped Ashford from saying something to Lesage, but I’d ring him tomorrow. This was a waste of a million-dollar membership.
I slapped Ash on the shoulder. “Have a good night. Hope your tender goes well.”
“You’re not staying?” he whispered.
“What’s the point?”