Sold to the Hottest Bidder

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Sold to the Hottest Bidder Page 7

by Layla Valentine


  No. I was going to stand by who he was, and act like I had planned it that way the entire time.

  “Of course! I was rather proud that someone so famous would choose me—and pay so much to have me, actually,” I said as I rose from the counter, taking the empty glasses with me.

  I could feel Maddy’s eyes on me the entire time, and I squared my shoulders, doing my best to look confident and unaffected by the news.

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all,” Maddy said, her voice almost a whisper.

  I felt my heart torn in two different directions. I believed she meant that, but at the same time, I wanted to tell her that the connection I had felt with this man was real. Not wanting her to worry about or pity me, I told her a half-truth to put both our minds at ease.

  “I knew who he was from the beginning, so I decided to have my way with the night, and now, I am going to see what happens next!” I tried to sound triumphant, praying all the while that Maddy wouldn’t see right through me.

  Maddy smiled and relaxed a bit, allowing me to relax as well. I knew she meant well, but I desperately wanted her to see the fact that I was able to be fun and unpredictable. I felt like I had to prove that I was able to break away from the safety net I had always placed myself in, and have adventures like she did.

  But, I knew my sister was right—Kyle Cunningham was a known playboy, never seen with the same woman twice. I could tell myself otherwise, but that didn’t change a thing.

  One night might very well have been the only time I would ever spend with him, and I would just have to be okay with that.

  I didn’t really have a choice.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kyle

  I left early that morning, letting Emily sleep in. I didn’t know much about her, and I didn’t want to break the spell of the night we’d spent together by talking about things that we didn’t need to talk about. All too often, I would wake up next to a woman only to hear how she was getting back at her ex-boyfriend, or that she was doing something to bring drama into some relationship she was having.

  There were those who were lonely, and those who merely wanted to get a taste of what it would be like to be with a man like me. Sure, they were all intended to be one-night stands on my end, too, and I hadn’t ever formed any real opinion about any one of them. But, at the same time, I didn’t want the woman currently in my bed to wake up and tell me something about herself that would change the way I felt about her.

  That thought filled me with confusion.

  I liked doing what I did and splitting the next day. It was the ego boost I needed; a modicum of fulfillment in a life that I wasn’t happy with.

  I didn’t like to get close to people. I didn’t like to open up or be vulnerable, and I certainly didn’t ever like being put in the weaker position. It was my business to be one step ahead and keep it that way—and that included the women I brought home with me.

  I was now on my way to catch a plane. Los Angeles was a place I would visit often, but my job required me to be not only all over the country, but all over the world. I was due to board the next flight to New York City, then after that, I would be on my way to Tokyo.

  I could forget about the events of the previous night and focus on my work, then turn my attention to the new women I would meet.

  As my driver took me to the airport, I stared out the window watching the traffic and buildings pass by. I didn’t know why, but there was a feeling of sadness in my chest. Surely it didn’t have anything to do with the woman I’d left in my bed. It couldn’t. That’s not how I did things, and I certainly didn’t intend to start now.

  A one-night stand was just that—a one-night stand. There would be no way for her to get a hold of me or for me to get a hold of her. If I wanted to check up on how she was doing, I was going to have to look for her on billboards and the covers of magazines.

  My phone chimed and I quickly looked at it. I chided myself, reminding myself there was no way for her to contact me. Yet, there was a small voice inside my mind that whispered that she might have made some effort to track me down.

  I shook my head. If any other woman had done that, I would have blown her off, telling her I never intended for the night to go beyond what we had already done. But, if Emily were to do that to me, I didn’t know how I would respond.

  There would be a happiness, almost an excitement at hearing the sound of her voice. It didn’t matter to me that I had only spent a few hours with her, nor that we had fallen asleep soon after sex and hadn’t taken the time to talk much longer. Again and again, her face would appear in my thoughts, and I would begin thinking about the evening we had spent together.

  I shooed the thoughts away. I couldn’t allow myself to lose sight of what was important in my life, and that was my career. I was a man who was always on the road. I was always moving on to the next big thing—whatever was better than the best. I couldn’t tie myself down to a single woman; if I were to do that, it would become commonplace. It would be boring.

  I made a habit of never being boring or predictable in anything I did, and that included my love life. I needed to shake myself out of it.

  Come on, Kyle. Last night was fun, and you got what you wanted. For all you know, that girl could be out there spending the money you left her and not giving you another thought. Odds are, that is exactly what she’s doing.

  You know her line of work is far different from yours, and it really doesn’t matter how much you liked her. She’s probably not one to get tied down to anything—or anyone.

  I didn’t feel any better knowing she had likely done to me what I had done to countless women in the past. In fact, I was almost feeling jealous, thinking of some man taking her out again tonight—showing her all the lavish wealth he could bestow upon her, bribing her to be his arm candy for the evening. Sure, it came with the modeling career, but I didn’t like the thought of it one bit.

  If I were at a different point in my life—or if I lived a different kind of life altogether, then I would be able to pursue something more serious with someone like Emily. But, as it was, I knew there would be no way I could sleep well at night, knowing that she may be out with someone when I was halfway across the world. She couldn’t possibly be expected to sit at home and do nothing while I was at work—her life was far too public for that.

  I sighed and shook my head. We were pulling into the airport, and within a few hours, I was going to be on a flight heading across the country. Part of me wished that I had left some sort of contact information with the note I had left on the counter, but another part of me was also glad that I had not.

  Whenever my phone buzzed, I knew that it had to be someone else, and that eased the disappointment of seeing that it wasn’t Emily who wanted to get a hold of me.

  I thanked my driver and grabbed my briefcase. LAX was one of the busiest airports in the world, and if I was going to reach my flight on time, I was going to have to hurry. I tucked my briefcase under my arm and hurried through the crowd, flying through security and then looking for my gate.

  By the time I took my seat in business class, I was distracting myself with my phone, doing my best to push all thoughts of Emily out of my mind. It was strange enough that I was thinking about her at all, and it was even worse that I was battling feelings for her.

  This wasn’t me. I was the one who was always in control. I was the one who chose who I was going to spend the night with, then I was the one who was in charge of ending it. I thought that that was what I had done with Emily, but as I sat on the plane and watched other passengers file in, I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  I finally gave up with my phone and put it in my briefcase. I didn’t even want to have it on me. I’d handle any business issues that I needed to address when I landed in New York. Besides that, I didn’t want to have any contact with anyone.

  All I could see in my mind was Emily, dressed in that lacy black dress with the boots that came up to her knees, and that sweet, a
lmost nervous smile. That innocence she possessed was more charming than even the sexiest woman I had spent nights with in the past.

  If I could just see her one more time—talk to her, even—that would be more than I could ever ask for. I didn’t know what I would say—would tell her that I wanted to continue to see her? Would I tell her that I cared for her more deeply than anyone I had met in the past? Or, would I merely tell her that she’d made a significant impression on me?

  Then, the thought crept into my mind that it wouldn’t matter what I told her, as long as I got to tell her something. Just to see that smile or her sparkling eyes, or to hear her bubbly laughter. I shook my head and grabbed the magazine from the back of the seat in front of me. I didn’t care what activities it was recommending; I just wanted something that would get my mind off of L.A. and beautiful Emily.

  I told myself that I needed to move on and forget all about her, as it was almost certain she was doing the same thing at that very moment.

  The night had been fun, but it was over. I could remember it for the memory that it was, but leave it at that. There were more important things for me to be focusing on, and that’s what I was going to do.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emily

  That evening, I returned to work, going about my shift at the hospital as though nothing had happened the night before, answering my coworkers’ questions about the time I’d spent with my sister—but not mentioning to them that I had stolen her identity and ended up at a party that was more amazing than anything I had ever experienced before.

  I ran through my list of patients, taking care of each one as needed. Each person I took care of only served as a reminder of the path I had chosen in life. Sure, I was pleased with my career, and I found it incredibly fulfilling what I could do in the lives of others.

  But, when it came down to it, I was feeling incredibly envious of my sister. I wanted her life. I wanted to be invited to those parties and to meet those men.

  I wanted to be the one everyone knew from the cover of a magazine. I wanted to be wanted once again. Try as I may, there was no way I could get Kyle Cunningham out of my mind, and each time his face appeared in the back of my brain, I thought about how he never would have given me the time of day if he had known that I was a nurse.

  He was after the kind of woman my sister was. The models who enjoyed taking their clothes off—the ones who turned heads everywhere they went, without even noticing.

  Of course, I knew that a nurse never would have gotten invited to that kind of party in the first place. That was the kind of party that was reserved for those with sexy jobs and powerful positions in life. The elite members of a secret society that someone like me would never have known existed, had it not been for the antics of my twin sister.

  I sighed as I walked into another room, giving the patient the most enthusiastic smile I could muster. I could see by the look on his face that he was even less enthused about being there than I was, and I tried to be more compassionate. At least I still had my health and my home—many of the patients I saw on a day-to-day basis were struggling in ways that I couldn’t imagine.

  “Emily! Glad you made it in today. I wasn’t sure if letting you go out for drinks with your sister would be a good idea,” Dr. Neils, my boss, said as he walked past in the hall.

  I felt my cheeks flush red. I might have been one of the youngest members of the staff, but I was certainly old enough to know when I should and shouldn’t be going out. However, Dr. Neils was a no-nonsense kind of man, and I knew any kind of retort would be sure to end in a write-up for me.

  “I kept it light. I didn’t want to do anything too crazy knowing that I was going to be right back here for the shift tonight,” I said with a light laugh, and he smiled.

  “Well, all is well now that you’re here, and I’m glad you are. We have a lot to do today, and we’re going to take an all-hands-on-deck approach.” He was looking down at the clipboard in his hand as he spoke, then he looked up and smiled at me. “How does that sound?”

  “Of course, Dr. Neils. I’m just about finished with my rounds, then I’m going to be open to go where I’m needed,” I said quickly. Again, I knew that he didn’t like messing around, and I had to be on top of my game if I wanted to maintain my good standing with him.

  He smiled again, though this time it was weary.

  “I’m glad you don’t mind working these long hours, Miss Shadows, but I was supposed to let you know that we are making some adjustments, and you aren’t going to have to do this for much longer. When we bring on new nurses, you are going to have more than enough help on hand, and you’ll be able to stick with a much more normal schedule.”

  I felt my heart sink, but I smiled. “That would be great, Dr. Neils. Thank you.”

  He paused for another moment, then he turned and walked away, his pants swooshing against themselves with each step he took. I stood by my cart for a few seconds, then I shook my head and turned my attention back to finishing my round.

  I couldn’t lose hours. I hated working as much as I did, and it had been really nice to have a real night off, but ultimately, I needed this job to make ends meet. There would be no way I could afford my one-bedroom apartment in downtown L.A. on any less than I was making now.

  My only other option would be to get a second job—but that would be difficult working the job that I already was. I didn’t have a set schedule, nor would they give me one when I asked. I was supposed to be on call most of the time—something that not many other employers would be happy with.

  I could quit this job as a nurse and go for something that was higher paying or more stable, but that would mean starting over again. The state of mind I was in didn’t make me want to start over again anywhere.

  I methodically ran through the care of the remaining patients, thinking about how I was going to handle the bills that had already been piling up. Hearing that I was going to have my hours cut only served to make me wonder what my next choice should be.

  Arriving home after my shift, I quickly showered and collapsed into bed. As I absentmindedly browsed through my social media feeds, I wondered if I should just give up and delete my accounts. They had never added much to my life, and now that I had returned to my position as a nurse, it was as if the night I had spent as my sister had never happened.

  My thoughts drifted to the money I had gotten from Kyle. I hadn’t spent a dollar of it, though it had been tempting. Every time I looked at it, I could only think of my sister’s voice, asking me if I had accepted money for sex. I told myself that it wasn’t the case, but in a way, it kind of was.

  Sure, I thought that I had a real connection to the man, but if I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I also had to admit that he thought I was an escort.

  I had thought that myself until my sister had explained otherwise. But, I argued with myself, I hadn’t slept with him because I was an escort, or for the money. I hadn’t known that he was going to leave me any money, so how could I say that I had taken the money for the act that I had done?

  Searching for Kyle’s name online, I eagerly flicked through all the images that came up. I could see that many of the photos of him were with other women, and I had to admit that I felt a twinge of jealousy each time I saw him with his hand on someone else.

  But another side of me whispered that this was all before—before he met me, before he knew that he could have a connection with someone outside of just having sex with them. I knew it was silly, and I knew it was completely pointless when it came to whether I would be able to contact him or not, but it was something for me to go on.

  I knew that I wasn’t going to hear from him on my phone, but each time it buzzed, I eagerly reached for it, hoping that by some miracle it would be him, wanting to see me again.

  Come on, Emily, you have to get over this guy. That was a one-night stand, and now it’s time for you to move on with your life. You can’t get hung up thinking that he ever had any interest in seeing you
again.

  If he had wanted to have contact, he would have left his information for you somewhere, but you didn’t get anything. Anything but a large pile of money and a thank-you note for doing things that you never would do with anyone else on a first date!

  I shook my head and buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want to think about the mistake that I’d made, nor did I want to face the fact that it was true. I had made a mistake, and it was only worse now that I had let my feelings grow.

  It didn’t matter how hard I tried—the more I didn’t want to think about Kyle or anything that he was doing, the more I thought about him.

  I thought about his looks, and the way he’d talked to me. I thought about the way he carried himself, and how he was able to so effortlessly achieve anything and everything he wanted.

  It was as though he were a king in a world of people who were all-too-happy to hand him whatever he asked for.

  And I was no queen.

  I sighed and let my phone drop onto the bed beside me, thinking about what my life was going to be like without Kyle in it. A pang ran through my chest as I thought about the finality of the situation, but I was quick to ignore it. I had to move forward, no matter how hard it was or how long it took me. I had to.

  With another sigh, I picked up my phone again. If there was one person who would be able to help me with this, it was my sister.

  I hoped she was in a good mood.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily

  I robotically put items in my basket as I went through my shopping list. I hadn’t done any kind of grocery shopping in almost a week, and I was out of nearly everything. Life had become mediocre in a way, and I didn’t know how to shake the feeling. All I wanted was to be happy, yet it seemed the happier I attempted to be, the harder it was to make that happen.

 

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