Carey's hand tightened around my waist. "Same as us." His smile was as he spoke, like words were being pulled through his teeth. Yeah, he clearly did not like Darcy. It made her even more interesting, and I made a mental note to keep in touch with her.
We all glided to our table and found another couple, an older man and woman, already sat. I sat between Darcy and Carey while Hugh sat on Darcy is other end, closer to the old couple. We went around the table introducing each other to the old couple who went by George and Eve and, just as we finished, the event started.
Most of it was basically a live auction with a comedian host as the auctioneer and a couple of breaks in between where a ballet company performed and a pop star did an acoustic version of her hit songs. I ended up enjoying the evening more than I thought. The artistic performances were fun. Darcy was fun. Whenever anyone would win a bid, she would point them out and tell me all the salacious gossip and scandals about them.
Then came the last event of the night. Who had won the silent auction. "You were all in a giving mood tonight ladies and gentlemen," the MC said, "I have never heard so much money being given away so freely, but I hear you've been giving even more…" he made an exaggerated squint, "silently," and lowered his voice in a conspiratory manner.
I fidgeted in my seat. I was one of those donors. The two thousand I gave probably would have been outbid five times over by this point, but I was still eager to find out if I won.
Darcy nudged me. "I saw you bid. How much did you put down?"
"Two thousand for a meet and greet with Luna Vellum."
She frowned. "Yeah, you might as well forget about winning. Everyone and their daughters want to be at that concert."
"First up, we have dinner for two at the…" The MC mentioned a popular restaurant that had a six month waiting list. "And the winner is…" he bent down at the sheet of paper in his hand and read the name, "George Torres! With a bid of one hundred thousand dollars." The old couple at our table beamed and waved at the crowd as the spotlight shone on them. "Ah, he has a hot young trophy wife he needs to impress," the MC said, referring to Eve, who was clearly in her seventies. Eve laughed along with everyone else and blushed like a schoolgirl.
I couldn't laugh with them. I was having a panic attack. Now that he has said George's surname, I remembered his name on that sheet of paper. George Torres had bid one hundred dollars, right? Right? But as the next name winner was called out, my theory went caput as every name I remember having five hundred dollar bids being called out asfive hundred thousand dollars.
"Uh Darcy," I whispered to her, "Did you happen to see the sheet of paper with the silent auction going around?"
Darcy lowered her head, eager for juicy gossip, her sixth sense having honed in on the shakiness of my voice. "Yes. Why?"
"People were bidding like hundreds of dollars, right?"
"No." She dragged out the word and leaned back, her eyes narrowed. Then she leaned forward and whispered in an even lower tone, "the bids were in their thousands. Did you not see the three zeroes at the top of the amount column?"
"I-I didn't. Fuck."
"Oh Thalia, how much did you write down?"
I could barely hear her above the incessant thudding of my pulse. This was bad. Horrible. Was there anyway I could stop it? I turned to Carey. He was on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings. The ceremony was moving too fast all of a suddenand before I knew it, the MC said, "And finally for biggest price of the night, for two VVIP tickets to Luna Vellum's concert plus a meet and greet it is someone who is clearly a fan. Maybe the biggest fan of all because they have donated two million dollars to the cause just for two tickets!" The room gasped when he said the amount. It was enough to jolt Carey out of his phone. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Thalia Hawthorne!"
The spotlight jumped on me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I turned to Darcy. Her face was full of mixed emotions. Worry, excitement and puzzlement. I turned to Carey. He seemed puzzled as well, if only a little curious.
"Two million dollars!" The MC continued, "I hear that's the largest donation ever since this fundraiser began. You must love Luna Vellum." People laughed. I felt sweat running down my back. I forced a smile. A microphone appeared in front of my mouth, as though out of nowhere. I glanced behind me and saw an usher holding the microphone in front of my mouth. They wanted me to speak. I didn't know what else to do. I turned to Carey with pleading eyes. For what? For forgiveness? To be rescued? I didn't have freaking two million dollars. I was frozen for what seemed like ages, and even the MC commented. "She's seems like she can't believe that she won."
Carey took the microphone and got up. "My wife is a little shy and a fan of Luna Vellum, so you have to forgive her lack of words. But she's also particularly concerned with cancer research and how best we can find a cure. Her mother, my mother-in-law, recently passed away from the disease you see." Everyone awed, Darcy squeezed my hand. "And that's why she wanted to give so generously. And she's been bothering me about those tickets." Laughter ensued, followed by clapping as he sat back down.
"I'm sorry. I was cornered. I thought I was donating two thousand dollars. It was a mistake."
"Sure," He shrugged, "What's yours is mine right. But I'm not going to play like that when it comes to you. You owe me two million dollars."
Chapter 13
Carey
IT WAS HARDto feel sympathy for someone you hate, especially when they're grieving, and it was even harder with Thalia. She had gone through a lot while taking care of her mother in her last days. And now it seemed she was slowly coming out of that grief. I had postponed attending any parties and events we were invited to for her until this recent one. Even though I didn't want to go to the fundraiser, a friend of mine was a patron and begged me to come, so I agreed. I thought Thalia would refuse, but surprisingly, she was open to it. If only I knew that when I agreed to attend, my wife would end up burning a two million dollar hole in my pocket.
The wife in question sat in the passenger seat as I drove us back home. She was frozen in place, but even with that rigid posture, my body was at full attention to any slight movement she made. Just like at the fundraiser. The gorgeous curve-hugging dress she chose made me forget the pledge I made with myself to never touch her and it was only when I remembered who she was, that I stopped myself from kissing her on the lips when she came out from her bedroom. It was hard not to touch her at the ball that I had to extricate myself from her, but when I saw how all the men in the room were ogling her, I felt a fire in my belly that made me run over to her and claim her as mine.
My own gold-digging wife. I turned to her, and she stared back at me. She blinked twice and whipped her head face forward.Did I catch her staring?Whatever, I thought as I drove the car into the apartment parking lot. We both got out in silence and rode the elevator without a word spoken between us. It was only when we got into the apartment did she gasp. She was behind me. I glanced back as she was closing the door. "Um…" she fidgeted with the door handle.
"I never thanked you for rescuing me. It was so foolish of me." As though her tongue had been untied, a bunch of words rolled out of her. "I didn't read the sheet correctly. I thought I was donating two thousand dollars. I will find a way to pay you back your money."
It was two million dollars. How was she going to do it? Bartending at fifty bars in one night. And for all the talk of wanting my money back, it wasn't true. I had more than enough through my trust fund to donate to charity. And for what it's worth, it was a worthy cause. I enjoyed making her squirm though. "If you're going to ask my father to bail you out, you don't have to."
A choked gasp came out of her.
