Page 95 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
As I wiped my eyes, I noticed something on Janine’s sleeve. It was likely a piece of lint, but maybe not, and my vindictive side, tired of all the shit she’d spouted tonight, took over. “Is that a spider?”
She screamed and flung her arm up. The paddle went with it.
I’d only meant to scare her for a second, not have her bid. Crap.
“Five hundred dollars to the screamer.” Glamma pointed at her with delight.
Janine turned to glare at me. There was no mistaking the fury in her eyes. She knew exactly what happened, but couldn’t say it out loud without proof.
I pressed my lips together in total innocence. There was no way I was coming clean now.
One more bid came in mercifully, saving Janine from having to actually come up with that money, or force the accountant, who genuinely seemed nice, to spend a date with her.
“We have two bachelors remaining,” Glamma announced, pressing her hand to her chest with unmistakable fondness. “And these two are personally my favorites. First, let’s meet our next bachelor—my grandson,Wyatt.”
Wyatt walked out with a pitbull that moved with a serene, unhurried confidence. Wyatt himself had the easy, deliberate stride of a man who was either completely comfortable being stared at or had become very good at performing. Based onthe sighs I heard around me, the room appreciated either interpretation.
“Our bachelor is a talented tattoo artist, the man responsible for at least seventeen regrettable decisions permanently inked on the residents of this town, and is a sweetheart who takes his grandmother out for lunch every single week.” Glamma’s voice warmed with clear affection. “Bidding starts at fifty dollars.”
An array of paddles flung in the air as Glamma smirked and increased the bid.
By three hundred dollars, the room had taken on a more focused type of energy and people were bidding more seriously than I’d expected.
Then Vee chuckled, reached forward, and lifted her paddle. “Four-fifty!”
“What the fuck, Vivi?” Henry’s voice dropped low.
“It’s just for fun, Henry.” She didn’t look at him. “I’m driving up his bid. Besides, he knows it’s me, and it’s going to piss him off.” Something in her tone suggested that was very much the point.
“I think it’s disrespectful,” Henry said, “that you’d do this with me sitting right here. It’s bad enough people in town already think you two are fucking each other.”
Vee tensed. “You know what, Henry?” She reached down and pulled the engagement ring off her finger and set it on the table in front of him. “You can fuck right off. Wyatt’s myfriend. An annoying friend, but my friend, nonetheless. If you can’t trust me even the slightest bit and feel the need to spout off lies to ease your fragile ego, then maybe we shouldn’t be getting married.”
Holy fucking shit.
The entire table went silent.
Henry stood, snatched the ring, and walked away, looking back as if the narcissist clearly expected to be followed. Itmade me wonder how often that type of scenario had happened between them.
“You okay, Vee?” Adele asked quietly.
Vee shrugged. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, and this was not the moment to push, so none of us did.
The bidding for Wyatt kept climbing. Five hundred. Five-fifty. Six hundred.
Wyatt, from the stage, stared at our table. Or more specifically, he was looking at Adele like he was willing her to bid on him.
He had been for awhile now.
Adele pretended not to notice and was as focused on her program as if she were studying it for an exam.
But her hands trembled, and I didn’t buy her nonchalant act for a second.
It wasn’t long before Glamma called it—sold— and then Goldie, who apparently had been the winning bidder, jumped to her feet, spun to face the audience, and yelled, “Eat your hearts out, ladies!”
Wyatt laughed. The pitbull leaned against his calf, and a woman two tables over said something to her friend I was absolutely not going to repeat.
“Well,” Wyatt said into the microphone, his voice a low rumble. “Whatever we end up doing, I’m sure it will be entertaining.”
