The Date Auction (2 page)

“I appreciate it!” As he countered his friend's words, Harry collapsed on the couch and heaved a sigh. “I know what's it's like to come from nothing, mate. I was a struggling actor too.”

William's arms were immediately crossed. “Are you saying I'm a struggling actor?”

“Well...” Before he could utter another word, Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He didn't want to say anything that might offend his friend, but they all knew the truth. William
was
a struggling actor, whereas Harry's career had rapidly taken off. He had only been in the U.S. for a year and a half, but he had been welcomed with open arms. His first American movie was touted by critics, and he had even been nominated for an Academy Award: Best Supporting Actor. Since then, the scripts had been flying at him, and his status as a celebrity was all but confirmed. Harry never expected his career would take off in such a way, but he
was
grateful for it.

That didn't mean he had to love going to the premiere of his movie, did it?

“I just hate watching myself,” Harry said. “I enjoy acting, I enjoy the job, but I don't care to see the end result. I wish I could avoid it altogether.”

William didn't hear a word he said, because he was too busy studying Harry's shirt. After a few seconds of puzzled hesitation, he asked, “Are you wearing pink?” He pinched his friend's pink collar between his thumb and forefinger.

“I am. What of it?” Harry looked down at the garment, which was such a pale pink color, it looked as if he had accidentally laundered it with a red shirt. “It's perfectly acceptable for a man to wear pink nowadays.”

“
I
wouldn't want to wear pink,” William vowed.

So Jamie suggested, “Maybe you're not as secure in your masculinity, Will.”

“
You
never wear pink.”

Jamie simultaneously shrugged and nodded. It wasn't as if he could dispute his brother's claim. Jamie's entire wardrobe consisted of plain black, gray, and white t-shirts.

William leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “So what is it you hate about watching yourself, Harry? Enlighten us.”

“Everything.” Harry grimaced. “I look ridiculous. My nose looks too large. I'm always picking out my flaws and wondering what I could have done better. I'm always thinking there's something else I could have done with the character, something to make him more appealing. I--”

“But you got to make out with Sofia Lorna,” William interrupted. He was referring to Hollywood's newest “It girl,” who happened to be Harry's co-star.

“True. I did.” Harry draped an arm across the back of the couch. From William's vantage point, it looked like Harry was encompassing Jamie in his arm, but Jamie was too engrossed in his game to care. “She's such a lovely girl, isn't she? You see, that's the thing I don't understand about American women.”

William was curious. “
What
don't you understand about American women?”

“The average British girl is pretty in a plain sort of way,” Harry replied. “But American women? They're all over the place. They're either incredibly gorgeous, or not at all.”

“I think the same could be said for American men,” Jamie chimed in. “We're all adults here, right? I think we can all agree that
I'm
unbelievably gorgeous.” If his chuckle was any indication, he wasn't taking himself too seriously.

“Mm. Yeah,” his brother sarcastically agreed. “And you're not vain in the slightest.”

“So... Jamie...” There was caution in Harry's voice as he addressed his friend. “Do you mind if I crash in your flat tonight? I think I might be too tired to make it back to my place, and I know you've got a spare room...”

“Of course.” The match ended, so Jamie turned off the game system and abandoned his controller. “You're more than welcome to stay in my
apartment
.”

“And I can help myself to some snacks?” Harry asked. “Some crisps, perhaps?”

“Sure. You can have some
potato chips
.”

“Can I borrow your mobile? I need to give someone a ring.”

“My
cell phone
?” Jamie was grinning. They enjoyed bantering back and forth: American English versus British English. “Yeah, why not?”

Harry rose from the couch and turned in the direction of the spare bedroom, where he had slept more times than he could count. He stayed with Jamie so often, he was surprised his friend hadn't asked for rent money.

Before Harry could go, William spoke, up. “I should remind you... the date auction is tomorrow.”

Harry and Jamie erupted with a chorus of groans.. “How, oh how, did I let you talk me into that?” Harry griped. “It's going to be torturous!”

“It's for charity! It's for a good cause! The more you complain about it, the more you sound like a dick.”

“I don't mean to complain. In fact, I'm more than happy to give my time to a worthy cause.” Harry closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself on stage, auctioning himself off. He had been on stage so many times, but never as himself. When he was assuming the role of a character, being on stage was simple. But tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be difficult, to say the least. “But I must admit, I prefer to be in control of who I date.”

“In my case, I'm happy to date
anyone
,” William said. “Getting a girl to like me is half the battle. Whoever wins the date with me, I'll already know she likes me well enough to buy some time with me. So it's an advantage.”

“Actually, it's like a blind date,” Harry said, inching toward the door as he spoke. “But in this case, your blind date might be your stalker.”

Over his shoulder, Jamie asked, “Do you have a stalker?”

“As far as I know... no.” As he slipped into the spare bedroom, Harry added, “But you never know who might turn up.”

Chapter Two

“Get a load of this douchebag.” William directed his friends' attention to the man who was currently trying to sell himself on stage. He was shaking his butt for the screaming crowd, which seemed to be growing more ravenous by the second. Without a doubt, the ladies in the audience were enjoying the parade of man meat.

“Who is he?” Harry asked. “I don't know him. Is he famous?” He was supposed to be. Every man at the auction was either a model, an actor, or a television personality.

“I think he's an actor,” William muttered a reluctant answer. “I think he starred in some television show.”

Harry wrinkled his nose at William's insubstantial response. “Your knowledge enlightens me, Will,” he teased him. “Thank you for sharing that information. I couldn't have possibly deduced that on my own.”

“Smart ass.”

“I'd rather be a smart ass than a dumb ass.” Harry kept his eyes on the man on stage, who planted his hands on his hips and shook his pelvis like a stripper. “Look at that! I don't think I could ever work the crowd like that.”

“I commend him,” Jamie spoke up. “He's giving me some ideas. I'm not above taking off my shirt to raise some money.”

“If I took off my shirt, I think it would be detrimental to the cause.” Harry's feeble attempt at self-deprecation was met with silence. It was a ridiculous thing to claim. More women fancied Harry Shaw than any other man at the auction.

The man on stage ended up selling himself for $1,300 dollars to a screaming, middle-aged woman in the front row. When the emcee announced, “Next, we have William Thierry...” William could feel his stomach turning. He had been anticipating the auction more than his friends, but now that he was about to walk out on stage, a wave of terror washed over him. What if he wasn't well-received? What if no one bid for him? What if he raised less money than anyone else?

“Well, it's now or never,” William sighed. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful.” Harry's sarcastic reply earned him a chuckle from Jamie. “You always look beautiful, Will. In fact, if I was out there, I'd bid on a date with you.”

“
Can
a man bid on a date with me?!” William's blonde eyebrows were hoisted like sails. He peered out in the audience and tried to spot some men's faces. There were, in fact, a few. “Well... no matter. If I end up going on a date with a man, it wouldn't be the end of the world.”

“Spoken like a true heterosexual.” Jamie clapped a hand on his brother's arm.

“
William Thierry
!” the impatient emcee called for him again, so William took a deep breath and walked out on stage.

Don't trip, don't trip,
the voice in his head beseeched him—which meant, of course, he ended up stumbling over to the emcee. The subsequent chuckles from the crowd drained the color from William's face.

“Twenty-six-year-old William Thierry has been in television shows such as Vampire Republic and My Brother's Wife,” the emcee told the crowd. “He recently had a starring role in Brooklyn Rookie, where he played bad boy Ty Brockland.”

William's mind hovered on the word
recently.
It wasn't really so recent. Ever since Brooklyn Rookie was canceled, his agent had struggled to find more work for him. He wasn't a terrible actor, but didn't have natural acting talent, not like Harry. And he wasn't as attractive as Jamie. Whatever he
hoped to accomplish in life, he knew it would be a struggle.

“Let's start the bidding at 100...” the emcee said. “One hundred. Do I have one hundred?”

The crowd was so silent, William swore he could hear crickets. No one was speaking up. His worst fears were coming to fruition. His panicked eyes searched the faces in the crowd, silently begging one of them to want him.

“One hundred,” the emcee kept at it. “Come on, Ladies. We have Ty Brockland here!”

The emcee was making him wince. He hadn't been Ty Brockland in almost two years. What if no one even remembered him?

When a lady in the back of the room raised her hand, some of the tension in William's shoulders was alleviated. Even if his date was only a hundred dollars, it was better than nothing. As pitiful as the price tag was, he was relieved.

“One twenty-five,” the emcee continued. “Can I get one twenty-five?”

Someone else raised her hand.
Someone else was bidding for him!
He couldn't believe there were actually two people in the audience who liked him well enough to pay for a date with him.
Or maybe they were just rich women who wanted to give money to a good cause, and their bids had nothing to do with him?

150:
The woman in the back put in another bid for him.

“One seventy-five,” the announcer kept at it. “Come on, ladies! One seventy-five for this fine young gentleman!”

After a long pause, a third bidder entered the race.

175

200

300

The money was climbing, but not as quickly as he hoped it would. William wondered if he should have skipped shaving that morning. When he was clean-shaven, he looked more like a nineteen-
year-old than a twenty-six-year-old. He wondered if his baby face was having a negative impact on the
crowd.

“We're now at five hundred. Can I get five hundred, Ladies? Look at these baby blue eyes!”

William chuckled at the obnoxious emcee's comment.

500

600

700

“Now we're asking for eight hundred! Eight hundred! Come on... woman in the back, I'm looking at you! You know you want to!”

The woman in the back was shaking hear head, which made William's heart sink a bit.
Ouch
.

Suddenly, a hand in the front row shot up. When William made eye contact with the latest bidder, he struggled to keep his jaw intact. She was young, maybe twenty-five, and she was easily the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. She looked like a supermodel, with long, chocolate brown hair, a heart-shaped face, and lightly caramelized skin. As he soaked in her beauty, he prayed no one else would bid for him.

“900. Do we have a bid for nine hundred?”

No, please, no.
Suddenly, charity was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted a date with this Megan Fox look-alike, because ridiculously beautiful women rarely gave him the time of day. As William continued to hold her in his gaze, she smiled. And it had to be the most beautiful smile in the world! He would have happily paid eight hundred dollars for
her
, for a chance to woo
her
, to kiss her cherry red lips. She was a siren. A muse. A stunner. He imagined her walking down a sidewalk, turning
heads wherever she went. Men might have killed themselves for a glimpse of her.

“Nine hundred? Anyone?”

William could barely hear the emcee, as entranced as he was.

“Eight hundred going once...”

No more hands. Please, nobody raise a hand.
He felt guilty for even thinking such a thought,
because he knew the money was going to a good cause. But he could hardly blame himself, not when the goddess was smiling up at him.

“Eight hundred going twice...”

For once, William was happy to be unpopular.

“Sold, for eight hundred dollars, to the woman in the front!”

Thank god.
After flashing a smile at the goddess who bought him, William hurried away from the stage. As soon as he rejoined his friends, Jamie clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, “Wow, you did well for yourself.”

The only response William could manage was a dopey smile. He felt like he was in a daze. The girl of his dreams had manifested in front of him, and
she
wanted
him
. It was almost too good to be true.

Jamie was next. He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and swaggered onto the stage with confidence to spare. His intense blue eyes certainly had an impact on the crowd; a few women gasped when they saw him. With his intentional five o'clock shadow, chiseled cheekbones and swimmer's build, he looked every bit like the male model that he was. He struck a pose, cocked his head to one side, and let his good looks work for him.