The Date Auction (23 page)

“Well, you don't seem particularly shy around me.”

“That's because you're really easy to talk to.” I finally slip off my sunglasses and drop them in my purse. “You're much nicer than I thought you'd be.”

“So you assumed I would be as intolerable as the Harry in your book?”

“Well... I wouldn't say he's intolerable, exactly,” I boldly defend my character. “He was a little bit self-consumed and he took some things for granted, but I don't think I made him an irredeemable character.”

“But he's not as charming as I am,” Harry matter-of-factly states.

“No.
No one
is as charming as you are. You're so charming, I don't even know how you can live with yourself.”

“Cheeky.” He playfully taps my nose. Two times. “I'm being serious, though. I have no idea why you haven't had a hundred boyfriends by now.”

“I don't think I'd want a hundred boyfriends. Not only would that be a headache, I'd be kind of a slut.”

“Coraaa,” Harry whines my name. “I mean it. You'd be an absolutely wonderful girlfriend.”

I spend the next several seconds mulling over his words. Is he trying to say I'd be a wonderful girlfriend for
him
? Is Harry Shaw cryptically trying to tell me he wants to be my significant other?Since he doesn't elaborate, I'm assuming that would be too good to be true. Nevertheless, I curse my cancer more than ever.

“I have to go back to the UK tomorrow. I have a relatively small role in a miniseries that starts filming in a few days.”

“Oh.” The news feels bittersweet. I wish for his success more than I've ever wished for the success of anyone, myself included, but I don't want him to leave. I got so wrapped up in my bliss, I never imagined what it would be like when he left. “What role is it?”

“It's a little Tudor period thing about Queen Elizabeth. Believe me, I'm not looking forward to it.”

“Why's that?”

“The trousers,” Harry answers with a grimace. “The trousers from that time period are unbelievably uncomfortable. Whatever costume I have, I know it's going to be dreadful.”

“Well, good luck with that.” I have tears in my eyes, so I turn away from him and start walking along the beach again. I don't want him to see my tears, but he's not going to let me go that easily. He gently grabs my hand and holds me in place.

“Will you miss me?”

“Well... yeah.” I try to sound as casual as possible. Harry Shaw doesn't need to know how gutted I am.

“I'll miss you too. I mean
really
miss you.” He pulls my hands to his lips and brushes a kiss across my knuckles. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“You don't have to come back...” My voice is tiny, barely more than a whisper. “It's nice that you came the first time, but it's not like I expect you to return...”

“I would be returning because I
want
to return. I want to see you again.” He gives my arm a slight tug, giving me no choice but to move closer. The gap between us is gradually closing. “I really like you, Cora.”

“You... do?” My feeling of dizziness is suddenly returning. I can't believe this moment, this moment I've always dreamed of, is actually happening. For a moment, I almost forget that I'm dying, because I'm already in heaven.

“I want to kiss you, Cora.” Harry cups my cheek in his hand as he leans toward me. “Do you think I could kiss you?”

“I think you could.”

“Then I think I shall.”

As soon as I feel his lips on mine, it's like my entire body is stung by a jolt of electricity. From my head to my toes, heat floods my body, and my heart hammers beneath my chest. I can feel him wrap his arms around me, and I'm grateful for it. If he wasn't holding me, I think my quivering legs would crumble beneath me. At that moment, I realize I no longer love Harry Shaw.

I'm
in
love with him.

When his lips depart, he continues to stroke my cheek. His thumb juts out to caress my lips, still moist from his kiss.

“Well, that's strange,” Harry says.

“What's strange?”

One of Harry's perfect, dark eyebrows moves to his forehead. With a cheeky grin on his lips, he replies, “I didn't think it was possible for a man to get butterflies in his stomach. Cora Crosby just proved me wrong.”

XI

Three weeks later

After wrapping his last day of filming, the first thing Harry Shaw did was sit down with a cup of tea and a scone, which he slathered in an impressive amount of clotted cream. The second thing he did was sit at the computer, where he proceeded to compose an email to Cora. He hadn't heard from her in a few days, which made him wonder if his last email had gotten lost in cyberspace.

Cora,

Good news! I just finished filming the piece on Queen Elizabeth I. To my surprise, my role ended up being much more significant than I thought. Sometimes I can count my lines on a single hand. This time, I had well over a dozen things to say.

And guess what? The wardrobe department let me keep one of my costumes. I'm tempted to show up at your house in a frilly collar and ridiculous pantaloons, but I've decided against it. I think I might just burn the damn thing!

I would like to see you again. When should I come? Actually, I need to return to California to follow up on one of my auditions. It looks like I might be closer than ever to landing my first

Harry's phone rang, so he temporarily abandoned his email. When he noticed the incoming call was coming from overseas, he didn't expect to hear a male voice on the other end.

“'Ello, mate.” At first, he thought it was Cora on the other end, so he made a point to sound extra British for her benefit.

But it wasn't Cora.

“Uh... hi,” the male voice on the other end greeted him. “Is this Harry Shaw?”

“I believe that's what they call me.” And that would be the last of his good humor.

“Good. There's something I need to tell you. Um...”

“Who is this, exactly?” He already had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, where his dread resided. Was it too much to hope he was about to hear about a failed audition? As much as he didn't like to fail, it would be much better than the news he was about to hear.

“This is Jamie Crosby. Cora's brother.” The dread gripped him harder than ever. “I'm calling to tell you my sister passed away last night.”

“I... see.” The hand gripping the phone was trembling now. With vacant eyes, he stared at the computer screen where he had started to compose a message to Cora. When he started writing the email, in his mind, she was still alive. His spine tickled at the thought. “I'm very sorry to hear that.”

“Cora wanted me to call you if anything happened to her,” Jamie went on. “She also wanted me to tell you about the funeral, in case you wanted to come.”

“When did she take a turn for the worse?” Harry's voice cracked as he withheld his emotions. “I would have liked to hear from her one last time.”

“Everything went downhill a few days ago. She talked about you a lot...”

“So why didn't she ring me?” Harry's jaw was twitching, but he didn't know why. Was it anger? Disappointment? Devastation? Was he afraid he didn't mean enough to her that she would try to contact him one last time?

“To be honest? She was afraid you'd come, and she didn't want you to see her at her worst,” Jamie said. “But you were obviously at the forefront of her thoughts.”

“Well... I suppose that's good to know.”

“If you'd like to come to the funeral, it's happening this Saturday. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm sure Cora would like you to be there. If you come, I would be more than happy to pick you up at the airport.”

“I'll be there. I would have liked to be there for her when she was still alive, but... I'll be there.”

* * *

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing her corpse in the coffin. The last time he saw her, she was so full of life that it was difficult to believe she was a dying girl. Now it was too real. Her body was lying there like something out of a nightmare, except there would be no waking from this nightmare. Cora Crosby, the girl he had grown to care about, was gone. She was dead.

Jamie approached him as soon as he arrived. He was standing beside an attractive older woman—Harry assumed it was Eva from
The Date Auction
. He tried to remember her real name, but it eluded him.

“Hey...” Jamie extended a hand as he approached. “Harry, right?”

“That would be me.” They both had trembling hands, so they gripped each other tightly. “And you're Jamie, the favorite brother.”

“Was I her favorite brother?” Jamie's lips were tilted by the subtlest of smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Jackie.”

“It's lovely to meet you, Jackie.” As they shook hands, Harry soaked in her appearance. She was prettier than he thought she would be, and she looked at least ten years younger than her age. If he was meeting them without any knowledge of their relationship, he wouldn't have noticed the twenty year age difference.

“Cora talked about you a lot,” Jackie said. “It's a shame we have to meet under these circumstances.”

“I couldn't agree with you more.” When he glanced at Cora's coffin over Jackie's shoulder, his eyes were blurred by the threat of tears.

“Actually, Jackie isn't my girlfriend anymore,” Jamie says. “I proposed to her three days before Cora died. It was really terrible timing.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “That is terrible.”

“You read Cora's book, didn't you?
The Date Auction
?”

“I did.” Harry nodded again. “I was always hoping she would finish it. I wanted to know how it would end.” With Jamie and Jackie standing in front of him, holding hands, it was easy to imagine the ending on his own. In the distance, he could see Lilly sobbing on William's shoulder. Apparently, there wasn't going to be a happy ending for anyone.

“You and I were friends in that book,” Jamie pointed out. “We were best friends. Weren't we?”

“I believe we were.”

“And yet, we don't even know each other in real life. It's strange, isn't it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Harry nodded yet again, albeit a bit vacantly. The room felt dense, suffocating. He wished he had never seen Cora's body. If they never crossed paths, he could have believed she was healthy and happy for many years. Reality was too difficult to bear.

“Well... I guess I should congregate with a few family members,” Jamie said. “It's amazing how many people pop out of the woodwork when someone dies. I haven't seen some of these aunts and uncles in years.”

“That's a shame.”

“Tell me about it.” Jamie flashed a weak smile at his fiance before pulling an envelope from his pocket. “Cora wanted me to give you this.”

Harry's hands were still shaking as he accepted the envelope. “A letter. From Cora.”

“Hand-written,” Jamie added. “She wrote it in the hospital, two days before she died. She made me promise to give it to you if something happened to her.”

“Well then... thank you for giving it to me.” Harry could feel his jaw tightening as he slipped the letter into the pocket of his coat.

“Thanks for coming,” Jackie spoke up. “It would have meant a lot to Cora.”

“Later,” Jamie said, and gave Harry a polite nod before walking away.

When they were gone, Harry made his way to Cora's coffin. As he drew closer to her body, he laid a hand over his pocket, pressing Cora's letter. He stared at her face for several seconds, and he couldn't look away. She looked so peaceful, he swore she couldn't be dead. She looked like she was dreaming.

“Cora...” Harry leaned close as he whispered her name, as if he was sharing a secret with her. “Why didn't we have more time?”

He waited for her reaction. Of course, there wasn't one.

“You meant so much to me. I wanted to make you happy, to keep you safe. If I could go back, I would have held you in my arms. I would have held you until the world disappeared, and nothing else mattered.”

When he looked at her lips, he swore it looked like they were smiling.

“Cora... Cora, I--” He wanted to continue his speech, but his gaze was caught by a glint of metal under her neck.

She was wearing his necklace.

The pirate necklace.

And that's when he broke down. Harry buried his face behind his hands and heaved a sob. He cried for the time he spent with her, quietly falling in love with her. He cried for all the things he wanted to say but never did. He cried for their missed opportunities, for their lack of time. He cried for what might have been.

Harry wished her death was a scene in her book. He wished she would open her eyes and write it away, that she would write a better ending for them.

But it would never happen. Cora's death wasn't fiction, it was a fact.

A terrible, unacceptable fact.

XII

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this letter, I guess I'm dead. It's strange to write a letter that will be read posthumously, and even stranger to think the world will go on without me. The people I love will continue their lives, and I won't be there with them. It's something I never thought about until I was forced to consider my own mortality.

If you think about it, 28 isn't really that young. Poor James Dean died when he was only twenty-four, which would make me an old woman by comparison. Then there's the 27 club. Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Amy Winehouse all died at the tender age of 27, a whole year younger than me. And I'm in good company, because Heath Ledger died at 28 too. If you think about it, we're actually a lucky bunch. We don't have to see ourselves get old and shriveled. We don't have to watch our bodies get decrepit and fall apart. I'm one of the lucky ones who gets to be young forever. I'll just think of it that way!

I thought I'd give you a summary of what was supposed to happen in The Date Auction. Since you took the time to read it, it's really the least you deserve.

William and Alaina: Eventually, an old boyfriend of hers was going to return and threaten their happy union. This actually happened to William in real life. Lilly's huge, tattooed ex (his name was Jesse) showed up at her apartment one day and threatened to wring my brother's neck if he wouldn't leave Lilly alone. William almost choked under the pressure and nearly ended his relationship with Lilly (this would have meant fewer headaches for us, I'm sure. Lilly can be quite a handful, as I'm sure you noticed). William eventually decided to stick it out, and crazy Jesse ended up back in jail for drug possession. Big surprise there, huh?