by B. B. Hamel
“I couldn’t see,” I admit.
“I didn’t catch it, either,” my mother says. “Hold on, let me find Belinda. She’ll know. Maybe we can somehow fix this.” My mother storms off, leaving me with my brothers. My father is somewhere in the dining hall, no doubt shaking hands and making business connections.
Michael frowns at me for a moment. “You should stand up straight,” he says, before turning away and looking at his phone.
I sigh and Peter makes a face, mocking our older brother. I can’t help but laugh.
“You did good up there,” he says.
“Really?” I ask him. “I felt like I was going to puke.”
He shakes his head. “Seriously. The other girls all looked like frightened deer. You just looked like a nervous deer.”
“Perfect. That’s what I was going for.”
“Come on,” Peter says. “Let’s catch a glimpse of your suitor.”
I follow him around the corner, leaving Michael to himself. We step through a door and head into the main ballroom. It’s crowded as servers carry dinner plates to each guest. There’s probably half the net worth of America in this room right now, which strikes me as absurd and silly. It’s a bunch of white, old, privileged men, hoarding their money, and only giving some to charity in exchange for buying a young woman’s attention for a night. It’s crass and lewd and I hate it all over again.
Peter grabs a drink off a passing tray and winks at me. We walk along the edge of the room, looking at the guests.
“There’s your boyfriend,” Peter says, nodding. I follow his gaze and spot Milo chatting with a group of men.
“Come on,” I say, hurrying away.
Peter laughs. “Don’t want to see him?”
“I’m afraid he’ll propose.”
“I wouldn’t blame him. Poor guy. Looked like he might puke when he lost.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “There’s mom,” I say, pointing. She’s walking quickly toward the back of the ballroom, heading right toward Belinda Stitcher, the woman who headed up this whole thing.
Belinda is standing with a man that I’ve never seen before. He’s wearing a tuxedo, like everyone else in this place, so he must belong here. But he’s younger than most of the men, maybe in his late thirties at most.
And he’s handsome, incredibly handsome. He has striking blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, a bit longer on top, combed back. His jaw is square and there’s a bit of stubble on his chin, like he couldn’t be bothered to shave for this event. He nods at Belinda and walks away quickly before my mother arrives.
I only get a glimpse of him, but I’m fascinated. I’ve never seen a man like him before at an event like this. He looked rugged, handsome, not at all like the stuck-up and stodgy old men that typically come to a charity event.
“Who was that?” I ask Peter.
He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably a waiter.”
I smile half-heartedly at his joke. Even Peter can be stuck-up sometimes.
We watch as mother accosts Belinda. They speak for a moment, and suddenly mother steps back, her eyes wide. And then the conversation begins again, this time with a renewed frenzy. Mother looks angry and Belinda a little overwhelmed.
“What’s that all about?” Peter asks me.
“I’m assuming she doesn’t approve of my future date,” I say.
“Of course she doesn’t.” Peter gives me a look. “Unless he’s old money and powerful, Regina Tillman does not give a shit about him.”
I laugh softly. Mother breaks away from Belinda, looking angry. I’ve seen that look before, and I don’t like it at all.
Peter waves at her, and she spots him, sighing to herself. She walks over to the pair of us, glancing around like she’s afraid that someone will notice something is wrong.
“Well, mother?” Peter asks her.
“Don’t be rude, Peter,” Mother says, though her heart isn’t into it. She looks at me, a frown on her face.
“What?” I ask her.
“I found out who your date is, and you simply aren’t going.”
I pause for a second and it hits me.
My date has to be that man.
“Who is it?” I ask her, my heart beating fast.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll go with Milo and that’s that.”
“Mother,” I say softly. “Tell me.”
She looks a little surprised. I don’t often stand up to her. Which is probably why she actually listens for once.
“His name is Gavin Waller, and he’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all.”
I don’t recognize the name, but Peter laughs out loud. “Waller! He’s that young guy, made a mint selling guns to the military before making even more on the stock market.”
“It wasn’t guns,” my mother says. “He sold flooring laminates.”
“Boring. I prefer the guns,” Peter says.
“Was that him?” I ask my mother. “Talking to Belinda just a second ago.”
She pauses and nods. “That was him. And Sadie, he isn’t appropriate for you. No, not at all. We’ll go with Milo.”
“He won me,” I say loudly with more force than intended.
It surprises me almost as much as it surprises Peter and my mother. They both stare at me like I’ve gone insane.
My mother snaps out of it quicker than Peter. “Sadie, what did you just say?”
“He won me,” I repeat, a little softer. “And he bid a lot of money. The hospital needs that money. I’m going on that date.”
She stares, shocked. “You absolutely are not.”
Peter laughs and grins at my mother. “She has a point, mom. That was a lot of money. If she backs out, imagine how it’ll look?”
Peter nudges me, and I understand where he’s going with this. “We’ll look stingy,” I say. “Like we don’t care about sick children. It’ll be a scandal.”
The dreaded “s” word brings my mother up short. She chews her lower lip for a moment, thinking. “We can’t afford to appear like we hate sick children,” she says slowly.
“Mother, Sadie simply must go,” Peter says.
“He’s right. I have to go. It’s my duty.”
Mother agrees, nodding. We just played on all her weaknesses. Image, duty, and the fear of scandals are all serious motivating forces for our mother.
“Very well. We’ll figure it out.” She looks away. “Come on. Let’s go join your father.”
Peter grins at me and I feel a thrill run through me. I don’t get my way very often in this family, and it feels good to finally stand up for something.
Even if that something is a strange man who I’ve never met before.
I float through the rest of the evening, acting like the upper class woman that I’m supposed to be, but inside I’m thinking about things that would make my parents disown me.
The truth is, I have very little experience with men. All through school, I had only two serious boyfriends, and we never slept together. We fooled around, of course, but they were too afraid of who my parents were to really push further. They were nervous boys, and my relationships with them never lasted long.
That’s my deepest, most secret, hidden shame: I’m a virgin. I’m twenty years old and I’ve never had sex. So many of my peers were having sex all the time, but I just never did. And now I’m stuck at home, barely seeing anyone my own age, and I’m frustrated as all hell.
Now suddenly, this handsome stranger walks into my life. He’s not a nervous boy, not at all. He’s an actual man, an older man, and he clearly has experience. I’d be lying if I tried to say that wasn’t part of why I want to go out with him.
I want to see what it’s like to be with a real man. I want to live a little bit, experience the real world.
And this man might be able to give me that experience. He’s definitely handsome enough to make my stomach turn. Plus, my mother doesn’t approve, and that only makes it so much better.
I don’t know what’s going to happen with this da
te. It’ll probably be chaperoned and boring, but I don’t care. I’ll be doing something my mother doesn’t want me to do, and I’ll be doing it with a handsome older man. Maybe he’ll be totally unlike all of the other rich assholes I meet in my life. Maybe I’ll actually like him.
I can’t stop thinking about that glimpse I got of my future date, and I can’t wait to actually go out with him.
3
Gavin
I’ve never felt nervous for a date in my entire fucking life, but here I am, sitting in the back of my town car and waiting for Sadie Tillman, feeling like a fucking teenager again.
I don’t know what it is about this girl. It’s not her family, that’s for sure. After I won the date and wrote the check, my office was flooded with calls about the Tillman girl. People wanted to know what the hell I was thinking, going up against the Tillmans like that. But I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t see it as pushing back against a powerful family.
I saw it as getting a woman I wanted. Plain and simple.
Rick was pissed, of course. He has to deal with the questions and the pressure now, and he thinks there might be some business ramifications.
Doesn’t matter to me. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with, and my business is rock solid. Nobody in this city can fuck that up considering I deal mostly with the Feds and the military. I have some deep contracts with them, the sorts of things that don’t go away unless I truly fuck up. Buying a woman at a charity auction against the wishes of her rich family isn’t nearly bad enough.
But none of that makes me nervous. It’s Sadie herself. I don’t know why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her standing up on that stage. I keep picturing her long dark hair covering her breasts, wearing only a pair of thin white cotton panties. I’d feel her smooth light skin, her full red lips, and wrap my fist through her thick hair, pulling her head back.
My heart beats fast as I get lost in my fantasy. I almost don’t notice it when Sadie appears at the door to her building, frowning out at the car.
I quickly get out and walk toward her. She looks at me, her eyes widening slightly, but she doesn’t look surprised.
Good. I want her to know about me. I’m betting her family has told her some unflattering things.
Sadie stands there and extends her hand, maybe a little stiffly. She’s wearing a relatively conservative outfit, tight dark jeans and a dark blue cardigan, but her hair is down and her eyes look excited. I take her hand, shaking it, and smirk at her.
“I’m your date,” I say.
“Sadie,” she answers.
“I know. And I think you know my name.”
She bites her lip. “Gavin.”
“That’s right.” I smile larger. I really like the sound of her voice and the feeling of her palm against mine. I let her hand drop. “It’s good to meet you. Ready?”
She nods once. “Ready.”
“Where’s the chaperone?” I ask her as we head to the car. That was one stipulation her parents put on this date.
“He’ll follow in his car,” she says.
“I’m surprised. I expected him to be in my lap the whole night.”
“My mother would have loved that,” she says, smiling a little mischievously. “But I convinced her otherwise.”
I smile and open the car door for her, shutting it once she gets in. That’s very, very interesting. She convinced her mother to let us have a little alone time, at least during the car rides. I wonder why she would do that.
I walk quickly and purposefully around the car then get in on the other side. Once I’m in, the driver heads off, the divider up between him and us.
“So Gavin,” Sadie says. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
I smile at her, leaning toward her. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and even being this close to her makes my heart hammer. “Somewhere special,” I say. “At least, special to me.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is,” I say. “You know, I’m not from all of this.” I gesture at the big buildings all around me.
“Not from the city?” she asks with a little smile.
I grin at her. She clearly understood me, but is giving me a hard time. “I’m from the city, but not this part. We’re going to a place that I grew up with.”
She perks up a little bit. “Really? I’d really like that.”
“It’s called Luberto’s. It’s a little Italian place on the west side of the city.”
“Seriously?” she asks, laughing. “I’ve never been to the west side before.”
It’s my turn to laugh, surprised. “You’ve never been to an entire part of the city?”
“I know. It’s stupid, right?”
“Not stupid. Just a shame. You’re missing out.”
“I know,” she says, and there’s something more behind her words.
“I’m glad your first time can be with me.”
She blushes suddenly and looks out the window. “Right. Of course.”
I cock my head at her, a little confused about her reaction, but I decide not to press it.
As we drive to Luberto’s, I ask her little questions about her life, where she grew up, the schools she attended. I keep it light and easy, not wanting to dive into the hard stuff yet. She’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and tells me all about her life as an upper crust rich girl.
None of it is surprising. She has the same life as a million other girls like her. That’s not really what interests me about her, if I’m being honest.
It’s the way that she talks about her life that fascinates me. Most rich girls seem to think that the sun shines out their ass, but not Sadie. She plays down the schools she went to, the things she did, like it isn’t the most elite of the elite possible. She doesn’t brag about her family, which most rich girls do, and she doesn’t press me about my own.
And she doesn’t ask me about my business. I actually like that about her. Most rich girls immediately want to know how much money I make, although they’re too polite to actually come out and say it. Sadie doesn’t seem at all interested in that. In fact, she mostly asks about hobbies and interests, and spends a lot of time talking about how much she likes to paint, although she says she’s awful at it.
By the end of the ride, I’m totally fucking charmed by her. I had a feeling that she was different, but I couldn’t have known how right I was. Sadie is the first girl from rich parents that I haven’t actually despised after ten minutes of talking to her.
Pretty soon we reach Luberto’s. The ten-minute car ride passes in the blink of an eye, which surprises me. We step out and I open her door.
“It’s cute,” she says, smiling broadly.
“It’s like home to me,” I say. “I grew up around here, you know.”
“Really?” she asks.
“Really. The place we’ll go after this, it’s where I had my first beer.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Impressive.”
“Not really. It’s a dump.”
“I’m going to love it.”
I laugh a little and we step into the restaurant.
Luberto’s is a little Italian place, maybe seats for forty people or so, but it has the best food in the whole damn city. I rented out the private back room, and the hostess ushers us back there. It has a single table with a white tablecloth, a single white candle, and a single red rose. I get Sadie seated, sit across from her, and the waitress takes our drink orders right away. I ask for a whisky, and Sadie asks for some white wine.
“This is nice,” she says.
“Normally it’s more crowded,” I answer. “But for tonight, I thought I’d give us a little privacy.”
She laughs lightly and shrugs. “I don’t mind crowded. Although I’m sure Reginald won’t love that.”
I cock my head at her. “Reginald?”
“Oh, he’s the chaperone for tonight. I’m sure he’s in the other room right now, fuming that we’re in a private space.”
“What, does he think I’m going to corrupt you too easily?”
She blushes a little. “Probably.”
“Maybe he’s right.” I lean toward her with a wicked smile.
She blushes deeper and looks away. She pauses for a second. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
We’re interrupted briefly as the waitress returns with our drinks. I sip my whisky and Sadie fusses with her wine.
“I wanted to know why you spent so much money,” she says finally, blurting it out once the waitress is gone.
I grin huge at her. “Maybe I just like kids.”
“Maybe,” she says. “But you could just write a check instead of bidding on me. Or you could have bid on any other girl.”
“You interested me,” I say.
“Did you . . . know about my family?”
I sigh, leaning toward her. “That’s what this is about?”
She shrugs. “A lot of people do things just because of my family.”
“That’s not why I bought you. Actually, that’s a reason not to. I think your family hates me.”
She smiles a little. “Yeah. They do.”
I laugh. I like how honest she is. “Do you really want to know?”
She nods, getting into the conversation. “Yeah, I do.” I can see a little sparkle in her eye.
“It’s because I want you,” I say simply.
She looks surprised. “W-what?” she stutters.
I smirk at her again and sip my whisky casually. “As soon as I saw you on that stage, I knew you were different. And I wanted you then, and I still want you now. Do you even know the effect you have on men?”
She gapes at me, clearly shocked and at a loss for words. I can’t help but laugh softly at her reaction. I can tell nobody has ever talked to her like this before, and she doesn’t know what to do. Conflicting emotions play on her face. She’s torn between disgust, surprise, anger, and pure desire.
“I see,” she finally says. “Are you always this forward?”
“No,” I admit. “Not always. But I wanted to see you blush again.”
That finally gets the reaction I want. She blushes slightly and looks down at the table. “So you bought me just because you want to sleep with me.”
