A Chance at L.O.V.E._Bid On Love

by K. L. Myers

  The car rolls to a stop in front of a single-story office building made of black glass and steel. The sign on the building reads Little Hearts Center. I lean across the seat and release Peanut from his car seat. “So, tell me a bit about this doctor, Bethany.”

  Bethany reaches for Peanut, but I beat her to him and pull him into my arms as I exit the car. Bethany joins me at my side. “Her name is Dr. Lillian Vicci. She’s from Houston, Texas. She was the chief surgeon at Texas Children's Hospital for six years before she moved here to start her own practice. You know, Love, TCH is ranked as the number-one hospital in the nation for children's cardiology. That’s why I picked her.”

  I shake my head at the fact that she called me Love AGAIN. “You know, Bethany, at some point in time, you’ve got to stop calling me Love.”

  Bethany shakes her head. “Never; I’ll never stop calling you that, so you might as well give it up. You’d think after twenty-six years you’d get the hint that I’m never going to stop.”

  Caroline, Peanut, and I take a seat in the waiting room while Bethany checks Peanut in. The office is amazing. Old-world mahogany covers the walls, oak plank flooring blends nicely, and the black leather furniture gives off a feel of a Wallstreet law office, not a Norfolk doctor’s office. I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear someone call out, “Jefferson Eastwick.” I stand with Peanut in my arms and follow Caroline and Bethany through the door as we’re led to another room and instructed that the doctor will be with us shortly. I set Peanut on the floor, and he runs to his mom. The door quickly opens, and in steps a heavenly angel. Mahogany long curls are whisped up in a messy bun on her head. Piercing green eyes settle on Peanut as her lean, tall body kneels in front of him.

  “You must be Jefferson?” Her voice is gentle and soothing.

  “Peanut,” I call out in correction.

  Her eyes glaze in my direction. “Excuse me?”

  “We call him Peanut,” I tell her. She stands, her hand reaching out to mine. I don’t extend my hand, which causes her to pull back and turn toward Bethany.

  Bethany quickly speaks up, introducing Caroline, and then me. “And this, Dr. Vicci, is my brother, Love.”

  I watch as the good doctor raises her eyebrows and looks in my direction. My hand finally reaches out to her. “My name is Lincoln, Lincoln Oliver Vincent Eastwick, but my baby sister seems to find it necessary to call me Love.”

  I watch as Dr. Vicci’s cheeks blush slightly as she extends her hand, clasping mine. “Dr. Lillian Olivia Vicci,” she states matter-of-factly, “so, I’d say we have something in common, don’t we?”

  I shake her hand and smile while I run her statement through my mind trying to figure out what it is that we have in common, and then it hits me. Her initials spell love minus the e. Dr. Vicci explains the whole procedure, outlining the risks involved but insisting that it’s the best option available at this time. I hold Bethany’s hand and feel her squeeze it every time the good doctor lists a risk that scares her. I’m scared, too, but I’ll never show it. Peanut sits in my lap playing with his Batman and Superman figurines, oblivious to what the adults are discussing. Unconscientiously, I lower my head and kiss the top of his head when Dr. Lov tells us the sooner we do the operation, the better it will be for Peanut.

  “Stop, Uncle Wuv, dis a fight zone. No kisses.” Peanut clashes his two superheroes together as if they are fighting. “See? Baman kill Supman.”

  Bethany and Dr. Vicci discuss potential dates for the surgery. When the doctor suggests next Thursday, I speak up knowing that I’ve already committed to doing the charity auction. “No, that’s not good for me. Is there another day that would work?” She fingers through the screens on her iPad, then confirms she does have availability the following Monday. I gesture toward Caroline and Bethany to confirm it works for them before I commit to the good doctor to schedule us in before sending a text to my assistant to empty all my appointments for that day and the following week. I do not want any interruptions during those days, so that I can focus solely on what Peanut and Bethany need.

  Chapter Three

  LINCOLN

  All preparations have been made for the benefit auction. The Oasis is expecting my date at eight in the morning on Saturday. I’ve allotted a four-hour time slot. A car will pick her up just before eight and will wait until her session is complete. I’ve also instructed the driver to leave a little surprise for the lucky winner on the back seat. A black and gold gift bag awaits her. Inside, she’ll find a handwritten note with instructions. By one that afternoon, she’ll board my private jet that will take her to New York City. Once she’s boarded the plane, she’ll find another note with instructions for her shopping extravaganza. I’ve arranged for a limo to meet her at the plane and drop her off on Fifth Avenue. The driver will then wait for her to finish shopping. She’ll also receive a third gift bag with instructions, as the driver takes her to Oscar Blandi’s for hair and makeup. When my lucky winner is done, my driver will take her to Lincoln Harbor, where I’ll be waiting to have dinner with her as we sail the Hudson and watch the sunset while feasting on the beauty of the NYC skyline. To end the evening, my private jet will take us back to Norfolk. Of course, the evening won’t be complete until I have whoever wins in bed.

  I email Nadine Marx, letting her know that all the arrangements have been made, and provide her with the contact information for my driver that she can provide the winner with for the following morning's date. Did I tell you how much I love the anonymity of the bachelors? I’m excited to see how much my date will bring. I’m certain that whoever bids on me will be bidding on the package and not on my identity. Hell, just my name alone would bring over a thousand-dollar bid, but this way, my anonymity will give everyone an equal chance to win. Yes, I hope my gift package brings in the highest bid, and if it doesn’t, I’d like to say I won’t be disappointed, but honestly, I probably will. Hell, I put a lot of thought into this package, and I’m pretty proud that I didn't have to ask for help.

  Just as I close the lid on my laptop, I catch a glimpse of Peanut dashing into the room, hiding behind the decorative tree that rests in the corner. “Peanut,” I call out to him. “Why are you hiding? Did you do something wrong?”

  It takes the little guy a few moments to respond. His perfectly brown eyes peek between the branches of the tree as little tears fall from his eyes. “I no do wrong. I jus don’t wanna go to the hispital. Mommy says I gotta go to the hispital, so the dotor can fix me.” I feel a lump in my throat and find it hard to swallow. “Uncle Wuv, you take me way, so I no go to hispital? Pwease.”

  Everything inside me wants to grab my nephew and make everything alright, but I know I can’t do it, not this time. Money can’t fix this. “Come here, Peanut.” I pat my leg and open my arms, waiting for him to decide whether or not he’s going to come out. I’m patient because the last thing he needs right now is to feel more scared than he already is. “Buddy, did you hear me? Come sit on my lap so we can talk about why you’re scared.”

  That did the trick; Peanut jumps out from behind the tree. “I no scared. I’m a big boy.” He pokes his thumb into his chest. “Big boys no scared of nottin.” His little arms pull him into my lap. “I no wanna go. I be lone there. You an Mommy no stay wit me.” Peanut wraps his arms around my neck and begins to cry harder.

  “Hey, now.” My hands soothe up and down his little back. “Your mom and I will always be there for you, Peanut. What makes you think we won’t be there for you?”

  He pulls back and stares up at me, eyes red from crying, snot running from his nostrils. I reach into my desk drawer and grab a napkin, pressing it to both sides of his nose. “Blow,” I tell him and wait for the tiny puff of air, then wipe the crud away. “Now, tell me why you think we wouldn’t be there.”

  “Mommy say the dotor take me to a room, an I fall sweep, but you no go wit me. Mommy say I wake up awl bedder. I no go by self; you come wit me, pwease.”

  His pleading eyes gut me deeper than bef
ore. “Buddy, we can’t go in the room with you. Adults aren’t allowed in there, just little boys like you. But I promise you that when you wake up, your mom and I will be there, right by your side.” I can see his little brain thinking through the process. “Have I ever not told you the truth before?” I ask him, and he shakes his head back and forth. “See, now when I say your mom and I will be there when you wake up, do you believe me?” Once again, he moves his little head up and down. “So, are you good to go now? Just like the big boy you are?”

  Peanut holds my face between his hands, looking me straight in the eye. “Pwomise?” But as I begin to tell him yes, his little hands squeeze my cheeks together, making my I promise sound somewhat distorted. “I go then, Uncle Wuv. You come, too.”

  My fingers ruffle the top of his head, causing him to giggle. Bethany shows up right at that moment. “There you are, Peanut. Time to go home. We have to drop Nanna off at her house.” Bethany reaches out to pluck him from my arms, but Peanut is having none of it. His arms wrap around my neck, once again holding tight as his mother tries to pry him from my lap. “Come on, Peanut; this isn’t funny. We need to get going.” His little hold is so tight that he’s almost choking me.

  “No, Mommy, I stay wit Uncle Wuv. We have man night. I no wanna go.” His little lips get as close to my ear as possible. “Shhh, Uncle Wuv, tell Mommy we have pans weady for night.” He’s trying to be as secretive as possible, but the boy hasn’t learned what it means to whisper. I watch as Bethany shakes her head, smiling as brightly as she can. I don’t say a word but give her a wink of my eye, letting her know that it’s alright if Peanut stays for the night.

  “Alright, mister,” Bethany says while reaching down to tickle her son. “Tonight and only tonight, you can stay with your uncle, but this is the last time I give in to your terrorist ways.” I’m not sure who she is kidding, but she will always give in to whatever her son wants, and so will I.

  The parking lot of the Mermaid Winery is full when I arrive. I never expected there to be this many attendees for a bachelor auction. Yes, there are plenty of women in this town who would love to sink their teeth into a luscious specimen of a man like myself, but surely, they don’t believe that one date will have the bachelor falling head over heels in love with them. If that’s the case, my winner is going to be very upset because I have no intentions of this going past one date. Hell, it’s not even really a date since I didn’t have the option of asking. I’m being bought and sold to the highest bidder. It’s slavery at its best in the twenty-first century, only, unlike the slaves centuries ago, I’m free after I’ve done my time.

  I’ve circled the parking lot twice now, looking for the right space. I’m kind of picky when it comes to parking. I desire a space toward the back, one preferably where no one else wants to park. This way I avoid door dings and dents. Though it doesn’t appear that I’m going to be blessed with the perfect spot, so I have to settle, and everything about me burns with the notion of that.

  I’m about to climb out of my car when I spot a tiny red sports car whip into a spot and barely miss the car parked to the right. I cringe at the thought that it could have been my car parked there. I watch in horror as the driver tosses open her door, barely missing the side of the car parked on her left, and wonder if the passenger will be equally careless. I watch as the door opens slowly, and a pair of tanned legs swing to the side and land on the gravel. The door barely opens enough for her body to climb out, but somehow, she is able to squeeze her frame between the car and the open door. Tall and slender yet curvy in just the right places catches my eye, but it’s the color of her hair that has my heart beating faster. I’ve seen that hair before, I know it, and just as she turns, I recognize Dr. Lillian Vicci in all her splendid glory. I sit and watch her walk, hips swaying to and fro in the tight black dress she is wearing. My dick hardens slightly with every step she takes. I may have thought she was good looking when we met at Peanut’s appointment, but the woman today is breathtakingly beautiful.

  Once she enters the building, I give myself a few moments to come to my senses and think of old, wrinkly women with dentures in hopes of deflating the hard-on in my pants. There is no way in hell I’m getting on that stage with a stiffy; I don’t care if no one sees my face. After picturing grandma without her teeth leaning in for a kiss one too many times, I think I’m good to go. I pull my ball cap down over my head, shove a pair of Oakley’s on my face, tux in hand, and head for the back door. Once inside, I set my tux on a table and inconspicuously make my way through the crowd of people mingling as they drink the various wines being provided tonight. I stop in my tracks when I see Lillian with her friend bickering at each other over signing up for the auction. I can only assume that Lillian has no interest in bidding by the disgusted look on her face and the angry words whispered to her friend as she is handed a paddle with the number 24 on it.

  “I told you, Ashlynn, I have no interest or time for bidding on a bachelor. I have no intention of using this thing.” She waves the paddle around in the air as she passes by me. Her frustration with her friend is so strong that she doesn’t even notice me standing right next to her.

  Chapter Four

  Thursday Auction Day

  LILLIAN

  I don’t know why I let Ashlynn talk me into attending this benefit tonight with her. I know it’s for a great cause, but my mind is everywhere but on tonight. Let’s be honest, all I can think about is that precious little boy who is so scared about his surgery on Monday. Bethany Eastwick called me earlier today to let me know that her son was so very scared about going to the hospital. I tried to reassure Jefferson's mom that she and Jefferson had nothing to be worried about and that I’d make sure Jefferson will feel at ease before his surgery.

  Open heart surgery isn’t any easier for an adult, but at least they understand what you’re telling them and can make informed decisions based on the information provided. But for a child, no matter how simply you put it, there is no way they will ever grasp the severity of what is to come for them, and that breaks my heart. The only thing that eases my conscience is that I know I’m saving his life and providing the pathway for a long and healthy life. It’s why I chose childhood cardiac care as my specialty.

  I stand inside my open closet and scan over the items hanging on the rack. I’m not sure what I want to wear to this event since I know it will be a blend of all social statuses. Do I feel like dressing up or just finding something simple and comfortable to wear? After what feels like forever, I select a sleek LBD and a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos. When I feel like I've mastered my makeup and spritzed myself with a light honeysuckle spray, I’m ready to go.

  The parking lot for the Mermaid Winery is full already. Out front of the building stands a man with his clipboard, checking in guests and collecting tickets. When Ashlynn talked me into attending tonight, she had already bought my ticket, and how could I turn her down knowing that she’d be out the money if I did? I walk slowly toward the door, careful not to catch my heel in one of the cracks or crevices of the parking lot. “Good evening, ladies. May I have your tickets?” the mammoth mountain of man asks when we reach the front door. After a quick look at our tickets, we’re allowed to enter.

  Ashlynn squeals with excitement when she sees the raffle items available and rushes over to purchase tickets for those items. Just as I’m about to follow behind her, I’m stopped by a very tall waiter holding a mixed hors d'oeuvre tray of gravlax on caraway with a mustard-dill sauce, caviar blinis with crème fraiche, and thinly-sliced salmon. My mouth begins to water just looking at them. “May I interest you in either a blinis or caraway, ma’am?” His voice is smooth and sultry.

  “Do you mind if I just take the tray and go hide in a corner” The titter in my voice doesn’t seem to have the impact I was hoping for. “I guess that’s a no then,” I say as I reach for one of each of the tasteful delights as I step around the lanky gentleman and head toward the petite woman holding a tray of champagne.

&n
bsp; I find Ashlynn standing in front of the list of bachelor auctions. Each bachelor will be supplying one date; a dossier is on full display of what the date will entail. The names of the bachelors are not disclosed for specific reasons. The dates range everywhere from a trip to Colorado, an exploration of a new amusement park, parasailing, and one that catches my eye called Pamper Me. It’s everything a girl could want but definitely seems too good to be true.

  Ashlynn grabs my arm. “Hey, did you see the bachelor who’s offering a pampering date? You could totally use a Pamper Me day. You work way too hard and never do anything for yourself.”

  Just as Ashlynn opens her mouth again, I stuff one of the caviar blinis in it, so I don’t have to hear her preach once again about how too much work and no play makes me a stick in the mud most of the time. “I saw the date package, Ash, but I told you, I’m only here for you. I don’t plan on bidding on any of the packages.” Ashlynn rolls her eyes at me, and I poke her in the tit, causing her to cry out. I cringe slightly, realizing that I poked her harder than I meant to. “You know I’m too busy with work to worry about dating right now. Besides, I’m sure that someone will bid an enormous amount for that package. Plus, shopping on Fifth Avenue and a private jet to NY… The guy would have to be completely loaded to afford something like that, which means he’s either old and fat or an arrogant prick. Neither of which I’d want to spend any time with.” Not to mention I have no desire to be in New York.