Bidding for love

Striding down the street , heading for an interview, I’m lost in thought about tonight's auction. My life has been a mess, family responsibilities, and debts seem to be my new normal. That’s why, I agreed to Mr Maguire’s sick plan of auctioning me off to the highest bidder But I made it clear that a date is all the highest bidder is getting. I don’t care about the consequences, just the payout. I got pulled out of my trance as soon as a puddle of dirty water splashed on me. It swiftly greets my chin, trailing down my chest and finally stopping on my tight faded blue skirt.

“Seriously!” I groan irritatedly, trying to somehow dry off the liquid with my hand.

In utmost fury, my eyes darted to the stupid car that had ruined my outfit, my mood and possibly, my day. Like I’m not already having a bad day and the day has only just begun.

I glare at the vehicle as it makes its way to the front of a building and parks there. It’s a shiny, black car, very fancy. I’m concerned with the fact that my outfit has been completely ruined and I’ve got a job interview this morning. I can’t let this slide. Whoever’s sitting behind the wheels owes me a freaking apology and I’m going to get it come what may.

With my fists balled, my teeth clenched in anger and frustration and my purse clutched under my armpit, I stomp over to where the car is, strands of my golden blonde hair falling to my face. I make my way to the front of the car, eagerly awaiting the driver to come out. I tap my foot on the ground seeing that whoever’s in there is hesitant to come out and I get even more irritated.

I’m about to open my mouth to say something when a tall, muscular man steps out. His black suit is sleek, his jet-black hair styled perfectly, and his chiselled features radiate an aura of power. He glances at me, his eyes piercing but expressionless. I'm taken aback by his intensity, and it makes me feel uneasy he makes his way back into his car and drives off

I’m left standing there pissed but there is nothing I can do, I’ve never felt so uncomfortable. I inhale a deep breath, staring in their direction and then I remember I have somewhere to be. I cuss at myself as I hurry off to the edifice for my interview.

“We’ll get back to you,” the employer says to me in a monotonous voice, concluding the interview after only a few minutes.

But I can feel it in my guts that it’s a no. I was tardy and I came in here looking like crap

The rest of the day is a blur: a failed interview, a stressful shift at the restaurant, making my way home. I start preparing for tonight. I put on a red skimpy halter neck dress Mr Maguire lent to me for the event, accentuating my curves and firm, round bust and apply makeup as per his instructions, feeling like a commodity

I get 30% of the highest bid and the rest goes to him. I can’t complain because it’s a fair deal.

Now, I’m standing in front of eleven affluent bastards, forced to put on a smile and pose like a runway model as they ogle and leer at me.

“Gentlemen, the highest bidder gets to take this enthralling beauty on a date. Who will it be? Let’s begin! Going for Ten thousand dollars ,” Mr Maguire booms and I glare at him.

That’s a little too high for a start, I think.

“Ten thousand dollars ,” one man says.

“Twenty thousand ,” another counters.

“Thirty thousand ,” I hear another thunder.

“Forty thousand !” Another man yells.

“Fifty thousand !”

Holy shit! Are these people out of their minds or what? They’ve got so much money to waste, just sitting there, drinking and calling amounts I’ve never seen in my life. I’m still wondering what’s it with rich people throwing money away like that when I hear a deep voice say ever so calmly, “One hundred thousand dollars .”

All heads turn to look at the person and I gasp as my eyes land on him. He’s the same man from earlier this morning, the cold devilishly handsome man.

We lock gazes, my mouth partly agape and his expression as cold as ever.

“Two hundred thousand dollars , " I meant to say,” he deadpans and I gulp, my heart skipping a beat.

 Who is this man?

The man’s aloof voice resounds in my ear for a couple of seconds.