Bossy Brothers: Jesse

by JA Huss

  But I have since learned that I will go on last.

  Last.

  Always last. That’s me. The last of the Boston Brothers.

  “No one’s even gonna be paying attention to me by the time I get on stage. I’m gonna get one of the leftover ladies. Like that hundred-year-old grandma over there making eyes at me. What the hell is Old Bat Knottingham doing here anyway?”

  “Her great-great grandson is up first.”

  “First?” I say. “That little puke? He’s not even old enough to drink.”

  “His company just went public. He’s the youngest billionaire on record now.”

  “Fucker. I hope he gets bought by Mean Trish Sellers.”

  “You know, it doesn’t help that you have nasty nicknames for everyone.”

  “I can’t help it that the Old Bat is old and Trish Sellers is mean.”

  Zach sighs. He’s tired of me tonight, I can tell. And I’m being unusually tiresome, I know this. But I really do not want to go up on that auction block.

  It’s gonna be bad. I can tell. Something really bad is gonna happen. I have such a horrible feeling deep down in the pit of my stomach right now. “Oh, hey. Who’s that?” I say, jabbing Zach in the ribs.

  The woman is quite stunning. And young. My age. She’s wearing a sexy red dress with not one, but two slits up the side. Her long legs peek out with every step and her bosom is practically bursting out of her strapless bodice.

  “That’s Emma Dumas. Part owner of Bright Berry Beach Cosmetics. Those three woman with her are her partners.”

  “Emma Dumas. Why does that name ring a bell?”

  “Probably because she’s on that car commercial they run constantly during the stock reports.”

  “Hmmm… maybe. But I don’t watch stock reports.”

  “I think she hawks tennis rackets too. So maybe you saw her on one of those ads.”

  “Possibly,” I say, and just when I’m about to disqualify that one too, she locks eyes with me.

  I hold her gaze, unable to look away. Her dark hair and red dress are breathtaking. And her face is so… well, I was gonna say, beautiful, because it is. But then I switch to familiar. She is so fucking familiar.

  My hand comes up of its own accord and waves to her, but she either misses it, or started turning away before I could finish, because the moment breaks and the crowd surges around her and she disappears.

  I groan. “No one is even coming up to me for small talk.”

  “Uh, so? Just go insert yourself. You’re Jesse Boston. Believe me, everyone here wants to talk to you.”

  I don’t think so. Well, maybe Old Bat Knottingham. But I know for a fact she’s deaf now and I can’t bring myself to go over there and shout in her ear just to convince everyone else I have people to small-talk with.

  Eventually the lights dim and brighten, signaling that everyone should take their seats and those of us being sold as meat should go backstage.

  “Break a leg,” Zach says, clapping me too hard on the back. “See ya on the other side.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter. Then I straighten my cufflinks and get in line behind all the other eligible bachelors to wait my turn.

  Backstage isn’t any better than out front. There are twenty guys here. I know every single one of them. In fact, I think I know everyone out in the crowd tonight—except for Ms. Dumas and her circle of cosmetic friends—and even aside from the fact that none of them wanted to chat me up before the big show, that’s not a good thing because I don’t want to go on a date with any of them.

  OK, maybe Ms. Dumas. I could actually see myself having a pleasant, quiet dinner with her.

  Shit. I forgot to ask Zach what my date is. So I don’t even know what I’ll have to do once this auction is over.

  Do I take them home? Out to dinner? Do we make plans another night? How’s this work?

  “Hey.” I elbow Old Bat’s great-great grandson, Chad. “What’s the deal?”

  “What?” Chad asks. He is obviously way younger than me. I was serious when I said he probably wasn’t old enough to drink. So we don’t know each other. We just run in the same social circle. Or would, if anyone invited me in to said social circle.

  “You know. Like… what do we do afterward?”

  “You planned a date, right?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Chad says.

  “No, I really didn’t.”

  “It was on the application, dumbass.”

  “Oh. My brother filled that out.”

  Chad shrugs, then walks off, calling over his shoulder, “Well, I guess you should ask him then. I gotta go. I’m up first.”

  Thanks for the fucking help, Chad.

  But I decide maybe he’s right. Joey has done this auction every year for a while. So I get out my phone and call him up. It’s eleven AM there, so he picks up first ring. “Baby bro,” he says a little too cheerfully. “Waaaassup?”

  “I’m at the auction.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. How’s it going? You going on first?”

  “No,” I say. “Last, actually.”

  “Last? I never go on last.”

  “I’m not you.”

  “Truth, bro. Truth. So for real, what’s going on?”

  “How’s this date shit work? Like… do I take the winner out tonight?”

  “Whole weekend man. I planned a good one. Maybe that’s why you’re last. People are gonna eat this one up!”

  “Weekend?” I say. “No. I’m not doing a weekend with a stranger.”

  “Yeah. Up in the country house by the lake.”

  “What?”

  “It’s gonna be great. Last year Sally Overheim bought me and it was amaaaaa-zing. That’s why I put the whole weekend up this time. I was really looking forward to spending the weekend with Sally. If you get her—well, I’m gonna be pissed. But if you do get her, for reals, remind her of what a great time we had last year. She’ll treat you right.”

  “Gross,” I mumble.

  “OK, I gotta go. I’m being fed sushi by a geisha right now. Little corporate perk from the Osakisan Company.”

  “Wait!” I say before he can hang up. “What do I do when I get her there?”

  “What do you mean? You fuck her.”

  “Are you sure? What if Old Bat Knottingham buys me? Or Mean Trish Sellers?”

  “Old Bat?” He laughs. “She never buys anyone, don’t worry. But Trish? Sure, yeah. I’d do her. Don't sweat it, you’ll be fine. Talk soon.”

  Then he hangs up.

  I picture being stuck up in the lake house with Mean Trish and almost feel a panic attack coming on.

  Why the fuck did I ever agree to do this?

  CHAPTER FIVE - EMMA

  “He just looked at me,” I say, feeling breathless and dizzy.

  “Play it cool. Just play it cool,” Mila says.

  I turn away from Jesse because my heart is thumping so hard in my chest, if I lock eyes with him again, I might faint.

  Why does he have this effect on me? I should not be reacting this way. I am not that eighteen-year-old girl he fucked and forgot about back in Key West.

  I am a confident, brilliant, beautiful woman. And I’m filthy rich now too. I am here to buy that asshole and make him pay.

  I look over my shoulder again, hoping to get another peek at him. But he’s talking to his cousin, Zach, who I have no feelings about at all. He’s so much younger than the other Boston Boys, he can’t be held responsible for any of their actions.

  “Stop it,” Hannah hisses in my ear. “You’re going to make him suspicious.”

  “Maybe one of you should buy him?” I ask, still feeling dizzy.

  “No way,” Natalie says. “There’s no way I will be alone with that asshat the whole ride up to their lake house.” She does a little shiver. “Gross. I’d rather date a serial killer.”

  “You’re being a little dramatic,” I say. “He’s not that bad.”

  All three of my friends scoff at the
same time. Hannah is in the middle of sipping champagne and almost spits it out.

  “What?” I say. “You’re comparing him to a serial killer. He’s just… a jerk, not a psychopath.”

  “I beg to differ,” Mila says. “Should I tell my story again?”

  “No,” the three of us say at the same time.

  But I’m pretty sure we’re not all saying no for the same reason. Hannah and Natalie are truly grossed out at the thought of me being alone with Jesse Boston. That’s why they don’t want to take this little trip down memory lane or be the one to buy him tonight.

  Me, on the other hand… I just… I don’t know. I get this weird feeling whenever I think about how they… and Jesse… and they… and then he… yeah. No. I can’t listen to it. It makes me feel all rage-y for some reason.

  And I have too many emotions running through my head right now, I don’t need another one.

  Besides, if I hear her story again I’ll start thinking about mine.

  Not a good idea when you’re about to kidnap the jerk who broke your heart.

  I need my head in the game. I need all my wits.

  I do not need my bloody heart on my sleeve.

  Revenge. That’s all I want out of this. I want him to feel the way I did.

  It’s not realistic because I was in full-on puppy love with the infamous Baby Boston. At first it was all jittery, happy nerves and palpating heartbeats. But after I learned about Mila, and Hannah, and Natalie… then it was sleepless nights, and sick feelings in my stomach, and shaky hands.

  Also… that ache.

  God, just the thought of that ache inside me makes me sad all over again.

  Not because I don’t have him, either. I get it now. I’m a grown-up who knows a little more about what love is and isn’t than I did back then. It’s not because I don’t have him. I don’t want him.

  The sadness comes from the humiliation of learning that the person you thought cared for you—even if it was naive to think that—didn’t. Not one bit. He spared not one second of thought about me. And, if I’m being honest, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that he was probably thinking of someone else while we were fucking.

  Maybe Mila. Or Hannah. Or Natalie.

  That’s why I can’t listen to their stories anymore. It’s just a reminder of how badly I was used.

  The lights dim and brighten, letting everyone know it’s time for the auction to start. I glance in Jesse’s direction one more time, then sigh before I can stop myself.

  “Let’s go,” Mila says. “We’ve got front-row seats.”

  “Who’d you bribe to get those?”

  “Never mind that. The point is we have them. And there’s no way in hell that Jesse Boston won’t see all four of our brilliant, beautiful, billionaire faces once he steps out onto that stage.”

  But will he remember us?

  That makes me swallow hard and hold my stomach, because it’s churning at the thought of his indifference.

  He has no idea who we are. He hasn’t thought about us in thirteen years. And the only thoughts he had about us back then were about putting his cock inside our pussies.

  Maybe I do need to think about Mila’s story? Because all the feelings inside me are sad, and depressed. I could use a little more rage right about now.

  We take our seats at the front and a few minutes later the MC of the event comes out and starts talking about the charity.

  Kids. We’re raising money for an after-school program for underprivileged kids so they don’t have to be home alone while their parents are working. Pretty much every inner-city school depends on the Billionaire Bachelor Auction to fund the next school year. So this event is actually super important.

  Truth. That’s the purpose.

  But every woman knows why she’s here.

  She wants to date one of these handsome, rich men.

  Not that all the bidders aren’t filthy rich in their own right. Each auction starts at five hundred thousand dollars and most of them go up to—and sometimes, occasionally, over—a million.

  I’m pretty sure we’re going to get Jesse for the rock-bottom price, but we budgeted a million just in case. Nobody came here for him. He’s the loser Boston Brother. They all wanted Joey. Or hell, if Johnny ever made an appearance he’d probably set the record. There’s no telling how high the bids could go.

  But Jesse?

  Nah. He’s the joke brother. Like the bad Baldwin brother, right? There is the one everyone loves to hate and the one everyone just hates. The other two are… who cares.

  Joey Boston is the one everyone loves to hate. Jesse is the one everyone absolutely hates, and Johnny is… eh. We never see him, so who cares?

  I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the only person bidding on Jesse tonight.

  After the charity speech the ball gets rolling with the first bachelor. Newly-minted, twenty-year-old Chad Knottingham.

  And when it’s over the girls and I just look at each other, confused.

  It took a while to get people interested in bidding. And his price was pret-ty low for being first billed.

  But maybe he’s too young? Twenty is practically a baby. Maybe people are holding out for number two. A very handsome, thirty-something heir to a medical supply fortune.

  Hmmm.

  No. He barely gets above minimum too.

  There are a lot of whispers in the room. Lots of shifting in seats as that same scenario plays out over and over again. They are all bought, but can I just say that the enthusiasm in this room is lacking?

  Badly?

  And the scoreboard keeping track of donations is just barely over five point five million dollars by the time Jesse Boston is introduced.

  I mean… I’ve not been here before but it was my understanding that each bachelor goes for an average of eight hundred thousand dollars. Which should have us up near or over the ten million mark by now.

  The moment that Jesse steps out on to the stage, everything changes.

  Women stand up, waving their little paddles before the bidding even starts.

  I raise my paddle with them. Ready to grab my prize.

  But ten seconds in, the bidding is already up to one point one million dollars. And climbing.

  “What the hell is happening?” Mila hisses in my ear.

  “I don’t know. But we’re already over budget. We lost.”

  “We can’t lose!” Hannah snaps. “We planned this. This is happening!”

  She grabs my hand and raises it in the air.

  The auctioneer points to me and says, “Two point seven. That’s two point seven. Do I have two point eight? Two point eight from the lady in yellow!”

  The four of us turn to look at the lady in yellow and Natalie says, “She can’t win! Bid again!”

  “You guys!” I say. “It’s already at three point one!”

  By the time Hannah raises my hand up, the auctioneer is calling out, “Three point eight! Ladies! Surely we can go higher than that for the children!”

  And then… I’m not sure what happens. Someone gets knocked over, there’s a bit of screaming, and the lady next to Mila gets hit in the eye with a paddle and starts shrieking, “My eye! My eye!”

  And by the time all that ruckus is over Hannah is holding my hand in the air and the auctioneer is pointing at me, yelling, “Sold! To the young lady in red for ten million dollars!”

  I look at Hannah in shock. “What the fuck did you just do?”

  “We won!” she squeals, standing up to clap.

  I shoot Mila a look. “We came here with one million dollars. One. And we just spent ten times that much on… on…. him!”

  I point to him. And Jesse Boston is looking right back at me.

  Oh, shit.

  I look back at the girls.

  Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

  Because Hannah, Natalie, and Mila have already gotten up to leave me here.

  The room is in chaos but then the announcer comes on to let everyone know—as if
we can’t math—that Jesse Boston is now the highest-priced Billionaire Bachelor Auction prize ever offered up for sale.

  And then he says my name.

  In front of everyone.

  I watch Jesse’s face as Emma Dumas is repeated in the microphone, for the whole room to hear, at least three times.

  And not one of those times do I catch even a hint of recognition in his expression.

  He just stands up there on that stage with the smuggest, most arrogant, cocky smile I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Looking like a ten-million-dollar asshole in his bespoke tux, and his opulent watch, and his luxe looks.

  And I think to myself… Yeah. That was ten million well spent.

  Because I’m going to make him pay for his indifference.

  I’m going to make him pay for his ignorance.

  And when this is all over, Jesse Boston will never dump another girl again.

  CHAPTER SIX - JESSE

  “Well.” I laugh. “I can honestly say I was not expecting that.”

  The whole thing was kinda surreal. At first I didn’t fully understand what was happening. I saw the Knottingham kid go for just over five hundred K and figured that was decent. But then someone whispered that’s pretty much the opening bid. And then I’m pretty sure someone else said the Old Bat bought him just so he wasn’t humiliated. Apparently he’s got a fragile ego.

  You can’t judge a bachelor auction by one dumb kid. But when the second guy—Phil Standard—went for almost the same price, I took notice.

  Because Phil is what I’d call a catch. Decent guy. Maybe a little religious for my taste. But he’s fucking loaded. And all-American handsome. And a go-getter too. His father refused to pay for anything after college so he started out driving forklifts in one of their medical supply warehouses and it took eleven fucking years of bootstrapping his way up the chain to finally land a position in the executive offices and earn his trust fund.

  Still… I was little suspicious that perhaps Phil’s religious ties were holding him back from the ladies.

  But that wasn’t it. All the guys after him went for about the same price.

  All the guys but me.