Auctioned to Him 4: His Addiction

by Charlotte Byrd

  “I know. It’s not the right thing to say. But in my experience, marriage should be fun. It’s an optional experience. If it’s not fun, why do it?” she shrugs. “Trust me, if it required work, my husband and I wouldn’t be together anymore. I’m a hard worker, but I limit my work exclusively to my business. I say, you wouldn’t work hard at being friends with someone, so why would you at love?”

  I nod.

  “Of course, there is one rule that both people should abide by,” she adds.

  “What is it?”

  “Keep the fights clean and the sex dirty.”

  I take a sip of my cappuccino, letting all that set in. I don’t know if she’s right or wrong, but whatever she’s doing it’s working for her.

  “So, tell me a little bit about your dating history,” she says.

  I shrug. It’s hard to know where to start.

  “I’ve had a few boyfriends in college. One lasted a year, the other a couple of months. Then I dated this guy, Cal, for a bit last year. He asked me to marry him. I said yes at first, but called off the wedding soon after.”

  These are definitely the highlights over what happened.

  “Any reason in particular?” she asks.

  “It wasn’t a very healthy relationship. He was…too controlling. Always wanted to know where I was,” I say. I pause for a moment. I don’t want to go into more details. “I’m sorry. It’s a little bit hard to talk about that. Let’s just say that I’m glad that I’m out of that relationship for good.”

  “Okay, I understand,” she nods, sympathetically. From her demeanor, I get the sense that she actually does get it.

  “So, how does this work?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Well, I have a roster of possible men. I talk to you, get to know you a little bit. Ask you what kind of guy you’re looking for. And then I use my judgment. Sometimes I match you with someone exactly to your specifications, but that’s not always the case.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “I listen to what both parties want, but I also rely on my own judgment. For instance, I find that men often rely too much on physical attributes. They think that they want one type of woman, but when they meet someone completely different, that’s a great match for them based on their personality, they fall for her.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Since we’re on the subject. I have one important question to ask you,” Dolly says. I nod and wait.

  “What kind of net worth are you looking for?”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “In your date? In other words, how low of a net worth are you willing to consider? This is important because I have a lot of clients and it gives me a ballpark of where to start.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask. My blood starts to boil. My face gets flushed and my fingers grow ice-cold.

  “Is this really the operation that you’re running here? Setting up sleazy old men who are only after looks with gold diggers who are only after money?”

  “Avery—” she tries to interrupt me, but I’m on a roll. I grab my purse and head toward the door.

  “You know, you really had me going. I actually liked you. I thought it was so sweet that you and your husband have been together since you were both in high school. I really fell for your whole rags to riches story. But now I see that this, this whole thing, is nothing but a front for some sugar daddy business. You don’t care about love. You want to know what net worth I’m looking for? I don’t give a fuck. How about that for a net worth?”

  I walk out steaming. Luckily, there’s no elevator to wait for. I’m parked right next to a personalized parking spot that belongs to Dolly Monroe. The car in the spot is a Maserati. It confirms everything I just said up there.

  “Avery, please,” Dolly catches up to me when I’m already in my Prius, about to pull out. She knocks on my window. Against my better judgment, I roll the window down.

  “That was a test. You passed the test,” she says, trying to catch her breath.

  “What?”

  “I ask all the women that to make sure that they’re not just looking for a sugar daddy. That’s exactly what I don’t want. You passed the test. And given that little display in my office, I think I know just the right guy for you.”

  Chapter 7 - Logan

  Stephanie doesn’t know how to sail, but none of them do. What she does know is how to be impressed with my sailboat and my sailing abilities. We don’t go out too far, just around the harbor, not far from Marina del Rey, but it’s enough to get Stephanie’s panties wet. She has had herself draped around my neck for close to an hour now, acting very impressed with everything as I let her steer. Stephanie is my perfect date. She’s blonde, tan, vapid and polished. She knows almost every beauty product at Sephora and how to expertly use it, and she knows barely anything else about anything else.

  Stephanie is from Orange County. And though I usually don’t like to date girls that far away – the commute is awful – Stephanie loves driving the new Beamer, she got as her college graduation present from her daddy, and she is always game to party. As much as I wish it were, today is not a Netflix and chill kind of night. It’s not a hookup. Stephanie is my date. I’m having dinner with my younger brother and his girlfriend. They have something very important to tell me, and apparently, it can’t be done over the phone.

  Don’t get me wrong. I love my brother. Liam is a great guy, but we’re completely different. Liam loves the nine to five lifestyle, which in his profession is more like the nine to seven grind. After college, whilst I bummed around, backpacked through Central America and Europe and started my company, he went to law school and focused on getting the right internships. Liam has always been very career-oriented, rather than entrepreneurial, and that’s what makes my dad get him more. My father isn’t someone who really understands my lifestyle. He knows that I no longer need to work, but he doesn’t really get why I don’t. Liam and my dad are two peas in a pod. Honestly, I think Liam would probably say no to all my money if that meant that he still had a job.

  As you can probably guess, when I hang out with Liam, I need a buffer. That’s where Stephanie comes in. His girlfriend, Kora, is an okay buffer, but I’ve known her for so long that she’s practically family now. Liam met Kora in Oberlin, the small liberal arts college in Ohio where he studied Economics. After graduation, he took an internship at Citibank in New York City, until he realized that he didn’t want to go into finance after all. He switched to law, which my father had been harping on him to pursue for years. He’s been singing the same song to me, but I was wise to ignore him even after I grew up. But Liam’s a natural. He graduated from University of Michigan and then came back to the LA area to practice law. Kora followed him all around the country. She completed her Master’s degree in Education and supported them working as a middle school teacher while he was in law school. Now, he supports her. They’re a nice couple, really. I don’t have anything against them. Except that we have hardly anything in common.

  I look down at my Omega watch. We have half an hour before we have to be at the restaurant. I guide Stephanie’s hands as we pull into the slip.

  “We’re back,” I whisper into her ear. She giggles and flashes me a smile of her pearly whites.

  “What should we do now?” she asks. Suddenly, she’s acting shy. All this time on the water, she was flirting like hell. Okay, I’ll bite, I decide.

  “I can think of a few things,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. She’s standing in front of me, with her back to me. I push away her windblown hair and kiss her neck. Little goosebumps run up her spine. I feel them with my tongue. She tilts her head back and moans a little. I run my tongue from her earlobes to her collarbone. Then I flip her around and press my lips onto hers. She responds right away, forcing her tongue into my mouth. I pull her toward the cabin, taking extra precautions to make sure that she doesn’t bump her head. I have learned that injuries are not romantic, no matter what all those romantic comedies try
to tell you. I push Stephanie onto the bed. When I don’t climb on top of her immediately, she pulls on my shirt. This is going to be a good night. Even if everything else tonight goes wrong, this is going to be so right.

  After we are both more than satisfied, we get dressed and get off the boat. We took a little longer than I thought, so I hurry Stephanie along. She ends up re-applying her lipstick and blush as we walk to the restaurant in the harbor. Women’s ability to multi-task never ceases to amaze me.

  Stephanie is wearing a designer black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s so short, if she bends over I’ll see the lower part of her perfectly toned butt cheeks. Stephanie is a yoga enthusiast with a body to match. For a moment, I hesitate. I want to go back to the boat and tear that dress off her again. Then I spot Liam and Kora somewhere in the back of the restaurant. It’s too late. I wave hello.

  Unlike Stephanie, who isn’t afraid of the self-tanner, Kora is so pale that she looks ill. Her jet-black hair is cut short, and she’s wearing hardly any makeup. She has nice bone structure and a pretty enough face, but a little bit of makeup would go a long way to making her look beautiful. My brother is no different really. He has the same cheap haircut and is wearing a crumpled old suit. He doesn’t care about fashion one bit and only wears suits because they’re required for his line of work. He doesn’t seem to know that there are new lines of suits coming out each season and has worn the same two suits since law school.

  “Hey there!” Liam gets up and gives me a warm hug. After giving Kora a kiss on the cheek, I introduce Stephanie and we all sit down.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Stephanie,” Liam says, glaring at me. “I wish my brother had told us that you were coming.”

  I smile. What he really means is that he wishes that I had told him so that he could tell me to not bring her. Well, she’s here for me. Not you.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Stephanie says in a high, peppy voice, completely oblivious to Liam’s half-assed compliment.

  Liam and I each order a scotch and Stephanie and Kora order lemon drops. We make small talk about the weather and the traffic – usual LA stuff – before I finally broach the subject of why I’m here. I’ve waited long enough for them to bring it up.

  “Not that I don’t love catching up with you two,” I say finishing my scotch. I motion to the waitress to bring me another. Alcohol is pretty much essential if I have to spend time with my family.

  “But what’s the big news already? I’m dying to know.”

  “Well, the big news is that…” Liam looks at Kora. Her eyes light up and she sticks out her left hand.

  “We’re engaged!” They say simultaneously.

  “Oh my God! Congratulations!” Stephanie gets so excited that she spills her drink putting it back onto the table, before grabbing Kora’s hand.

  “Oh my, this is beautiful. Two carats?” she asks.

  “Two and a half,” Kora smiles.

  “Holy shit!” Stephanie yells. She isn’t a girl with much of a filter, but the expression on Kora’s face says that she couldn’t be happier with Stephanie’s exuberance.

  “He did really good. You did really good, Liam!” Stephanie says approvingly. “And the diamonds on the sides, nice touch!”

  “Logan?” Liam turns to me. Stephanie has ushered in the kind of level of excitement that I can never match. At least, not about this.

  “Wow, congratulations!” I say as peppy as I can. Apparently, it works because Liam smiles.

  “How long have you two been together?” Stephanie asks.

  “A long time. Seven years,” Kora says. Kora’s been trying to get Liam to marry her since they have graduated from college. Honestly, I’m shocked that it took Liam that long to keep her at bay.

  “Wow, that’s a long time,” Stephanie says. “I say you really deserve something more than two carats for waiting so long. Why did it take you so long to ask this gorgeous girl to marry you?”

  Wow, Stephanie really doesn’t have a filter. I’m actually starting to enjoy this. I turn to Liam and watch him squirm.

  “Yeah, Liam, why did it take you so long?” Kora joins in on the fun.

  “You know why. Because I was in law school. And then I just started working. There were a lot of things to figure out.”

  “Well, I’m glad you finally figured them out,” Stephanie announces as if she has known Kora her whole life.

  “Hey, why is everyone interrogating me? I’m only 27. Logan there is 30 and has never had a relationship that lasted longer than two months.”

  “Ah! Is that true?” Stephanie gasps dramatically.

  “My therapist says I have commitment issues,” I say. I don’t have a therapist, but I’ve noticed that people like the sound of that. Like I’m admitting that I have a problem, and I’m trying to resolve it. It makes me sound like a good guy.

  “Well, at least, you’re working on it,” Stephanie says with a sigh.

  “Man, I can’t win, can I?” Liam jokes and we all chuckle.

  “I think you’ve already won,” I say raising my glass. “I’d like to make a toast to you, Liam and Kora. Despite all the jokes, I know that you two have loved each other for a very long time. You have been through it all together, and now you’re finally coming together and making it official. I couldn’t be prouder of you as my little brother. And I couldn’t be happier to welcome you, Kora, into our family as my future sister. Here’s to you!”

  Liam’s eyes get a little misty and Kora cries outright. Even Stephanie tears up. I don’t really mean a word of what I said, but those were nice words, huh? I like Kora okay, but I think she can do better than my brother. He works too hard and doesn’t do anything for fun. Everything is such serious business with that guy. He’s got way too many hang-ups and anxieties, and now poor Kora will have to put up with them for as long as they live. Or as long as they stay married. But I couldn’t very well say any of that. I’m not that much of an asshole.

  Chapter 8 - Logan

  As I predicted, that speech I made last night at dinner really endeared me to Stephanie. We had a wild night on the boat afterwards, and she said that she was even open to the possibility of inviting a friend or two into our bed. And she knows the perfect girl – her college roommate! That was music to my ears. I’ve been looking for some variety in my threesomes, and I’ve noticed that it’s more effective if the girl finds the other girl to join us. That way I don’t look like a slime ball.

  Stephanie had an appointment with a plastic surgeon about a possible breast augmentation down in Newport Beach the following morning, so she took off at three a.m. to beat the traffic and get an hour or two of sleep. Apparently, canceling it was out of the question – she has been waiting for it for a month. Watching her drive away in her white BMW convertible, I suddenly wondered if I was in love. Everything about that girl is perfect physically. She doesn’t want to stay the night and she’s into threesomes. What more does a man want? What more do I want?

  Instead of sleeping on the boat, I decide to take the opportunity and drive back to my place in Malibu, also to beat all the traffic. I cruise down Pacific Coast Highway at 80 miles an hour and arrive at my house in record time. After stripping off all my clothes, I fall into a dead sleep.

  “Well, well, well,” I hear a woman’s voice somewhere in the distance. “It’s almost eleven and Mr. Logan Davenport, an unemployed billionaire, is still asleep.”

  The woman speaks in a thick West Texas accent while tapping her heel on my marble floor.

  “I had a late night,” I mumble into my pillow.

  Click. Click. Click. She walks across the floor, grabs the remote to the blinds and pulls them up. The sun hits me like a brick. I grab another pillow and cover my face with it.

  “I had a late night, Aunt Dolly,” I moan.

  “Yes, I can see that. But half the day is nearly gone already.”

  “I can because I’m retired,” I say, rubbing my eyes and finally sitting up. “I can do anything I want to d
o.”

  Aunt Dolly smiles a wide toothy smile. Her veneers are bright white and her matte red lipstick is perfectly applied. There isn’t one line on her face, and her hair is as big and platinum as ever. “The bigger the hair, the closer to God,” is a popular saying in Texas, but Aunt Dolly takes it to a whole new level.

  “You may be retired, but you are also only 30 years old. You can’t just do nothing all day.”

  “I don’t do nothing. I surf. I go out to lunch. I go on dates.”

  I do plenty of other things too, which I can’t really mention to her. Or anyone else for that matter.

  “Oh I know all about your dates,” she waves her hand dismissively. I chuckle and sit up in my bed. I can’t really get out from under the sheet, because I’m completely nude. Noticing my conundrum, she walks out of my room.

  “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” she says. “I have to talk to you about something important.”

  I pull on a t-shirt and shorts and follow her out. Marilyn is in the kitchen cooking something delicious on the stove.

  “Why did you let her in?” I ask jokingly.

  Marilyn turns around.

  “Because it’s Dolly,” she says with a smirk. “I always let in Dolly.”

  Aunt Dolly smiles and tosses her hair with attitude.

  “But I’m the one who pays you.”

  “Not enough to not let in Dolly!” Marilyn announces.

  I roll my eyes. Marilyn adores Dolly. They’ve been friends ever since she came to work for me. If she wasn’t so happily married, Dolly would undoubtedly set her up with one of her millionaire clients, and I’d be out of a great housekeeper.

  I follow Aunt Dolly out to the porch. Marilyn brings us a tray of fruit, juice and coffee. The Pacific Ocean is unusually calm today. The sun is blistering hot and there are three pretty girls frolicking in the waves. I yearn to grab my board and join them.

  “I found the perfect date for you,” Aunt Dolly announces. I shake my head. Not again. Aunt Dolly has been trying to set me up with someone for years. And for years, I’ve politely declined her offer.