Did he mean the men he’d scowled at? “But nobody cares about me. You’re news. Everyone in town worships the ground you walk on.”
Felix chewed the corner of his lip. “So if I’m not cattle, I’m aprize? Offered to the highest bidder?”
“Well, yes. But in the nicest sense. Look, I really am sorry, Felix. I thought it might be fun.” Thea reached up to touch his arm, and his gaze flew to her hand, then to her face. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t read. A kind of defeat.
Just then, a loud voice cut through the surrounding chatter. “You’d better not outbid me.Iwant him.”
To their right, Persephone Murray and two of her buddies stood bickering. “You can’t just automatically have first dibs on him, P. I want to know what all the fuss is about. I read he’s as rich as Midas. I wonder if he’d turn me to gold with one touch.” The woman shrieked a giggle.
Felix turned back to Thea, his eyes growing wider by the millisecond. “Felix, I…” was all she said before he plucked her hand from his arm and stalked off towards the “Coktail Bar.” A bitter taste filled Thea’s mouth, and it took all her effort not to chase him down and beg his forgiveness. Of course, he was angry with her. Her auction stunt was a low blow. A stupid idea she should never have entertained.
With one hand pressed to the cool wall of the gym, Thea made a great show of not watching Persephone and her friends as they squabbled over Felix. Instead, she examined her nibbled fingernails under the neon glow of the disco lights.
“Let me just warn you,” Persephone said. “Felix has hinted he’d be interested in us being a little more than soccer sidekicks. Maybe even sideline sweethearts. In fact, I’m convincedthat after just one evening with Mr. Walsh, he’d be putty in my hands.”
A wave of nausea rolled through Thea as Persephone winked lasciviously in Felix’s direction. He was like a lamb to the slaughter. And it was all her fault.
“Well, ladies,” Persephone boomed, “If we can’t agree on who should have him, let’s leave it to economics. May the highest bidder win.”
With a grimace, Thea made a mental note to buy Felix a pair of earplugs for his date with Persephone. She had no doubt Ms. Murray would be the one splashing the most cash.
She had to find Felix. Let him know how much she regretted what she’d done. But what could she say?“I’m sorry I sold you off to Clavenham’s biggest cougar, but it was for a good cause,”probably wouldn’t help. And deep down, hadn’t she known what would happen? That Persephone would use her credit card and superior bank balance to snap him up?
With Malcolm’s crazy disco lights singeing her retinas, Thea searched Felix out. He stood by the bar, ladling something blue and menacing into a cup. His brow knotted, and Thea’s gut did the same. Why Persephone being hell bent on winning him bothered her so much, she couldn’t say. But the thought of them sharing anything other than polite conversation made her stomach curdle.
11
THEA
Thea closed the restroom door behind her. She gazed up and down the corridor. Where had Felix got to? Not that she’d expected to find him in the girl’s bathroom, but he’d given her a wide berth since the auction, and she’d checked everywhere else.
She hadn’t seen him in over half an hour. The last time, he’d taken one narrow-eyed look at her before heading off towards the kitchen, tight-lipped and blue drink in hand.
The hallway was quiet. An excellent place to gather her thoughts on how to apologise to Felix. Thea didn’t want to be best buddies with him, but the idea that he was somewhere in the building, hating her, made her teeth grind. He’d probably never speak to her again. Why did that feel so wrong?
A couple of women emerged from the toilets, passing by her in a waft of hand soap. They commiserated with each other about the cost of school uniforms as Thea followed them back into the gym.
The minute she spotted Felix, her skin prickled. He’d shed his jacket, had rolled up his shirtsleeves and right now, he stood almost flush against the giant chocolate fountain, backing awayfrom Persephone Murray. The machine was vast, resembling a giant church font, and if he leaned back any further, he’d be at risk of baptism in its thick, brown depths.
Thea stepped further into the room, jostled at all sides by noisy revellers. But like a laser-guided missile, she kept her sights on Felix. If she’d seen fear in his eyes earlier, abject terror filled them now. Her gut pulled, and startled at her ability to move so fast in heels, she pushed through the crowd to join him.
By the time she got closer, Felix was practically bent backwards over the churning reservoir of chocolate. He held two sticks, each bearing a large strawberry, like he was fending Persephone off with a pair of fruity battle axes.
A burn filled Thea’s throat. She had to rescue him. But as she moved toward the two of them, Thea skidded on something underfoot, and her heels slipped out from under her. Flailing and wheeling, she avoided hitting Persephone, but the effort sent Thea barrelling straight into Felix. With an audible “oof,” he fell backwards, dropping his fruit sticks and placing both hands behind him into the chocolate.
Rebounding off his pecs, Thea scrambled to a stop, her heels finally gripping the polished floor. At a glacial pace, Felix stood straight. Open-mouthed, he extracted his hands from the fountain. Each finger dripped with thick, molten chocolate that pooled on the floor.
“Felix!” Persephone squealed, barging Thea out of the way, rushing to pat down his chest as if searching for a heartbeat. Thea’s brows drew together. A minor dousing in chocolate hardly required such a hands-on examination. From the wide-eyed look on Felix’s face, he agreed with her.
Thea’s heart kicked up a notch as Persephone persisted, her hands veering dangerously close to Felix’s belt buckle. She put a hand on Persephone’s arm. “I think paper towels would be more useful, don’t you?”
The cougar spun round, agape and flushed, nodding at Thea. “Yes, you’re right. Don’t worry, Felix, I’ll be right back.”
Thea stared after Persephone as she departed toward the kitchen. With an eye roll, she offered a silent prayer to St. Lawrence, patron saint of chefs. Perhaps he could arrange for Persephone to slip into a bain-marie and disappear forever.
“Hell, I’m so sorry, Felix,” Thea said, turning to him. “Do you think you can move? Will you need to be extracted by the emergency services?” She was trying to be funny and lighten the mood, but the growl coming from his throat didn’t fill her with much hope.
“Thea,” he said, like a furious teacher chastising a naughty child.
