Page 193 of Filthy Beautiful
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On Saturday night, I went to the Ruby for Trey’s charity event. The one Jordan had been helping out with. She’d pulled a lot of hours volunteering, helping set up all the prizes for the auction. Including the bachelor auction.
The auction I was in, and was in no fucking mood for.
But honestly, would I ever be in the mood for standing there like a jackass while rich women bid on a date with me?
Nope.
Jordan met me downtown to “get ready” beforehand, which meant our night started at three in the afternoon—when she took me to get my hair cut, my nails manicured, and to shop for a new outfit. Because apparently I had to wear dress pants and a button-up shirt to this thing, and despite the mountains of clothes in my closet, there wasn’t one pair of dress pants.
In my world, dress pants meant jeans with no rips in them.
According to Jordan, that wouldn’t do.
“This is a high-class event,” she informed me as she fussed with the cuffs of the shirt I was trying on. “Tables in the front row go for seventy-five-thousand. And Trey expects to raise a ton of money for the foundation…”
“Uh-huh.”
She looked me over in the mirror. “You don’t want to be the one scruffy mutt for sale who doesn’t pull in any bank, Xan.”
Yeah, she was loving this.
After we shopped, we stopped for dinner and drinks. And after a couple of coconut rums, my assistant let a little something slip.
Like the fact that she’d sweet talked Trey into signing me up for the bachelor auction… and not the other way around.
I almost didn’t catch it, but…
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I asked her. I was doing this thing because it wasTrey’sthing, and he wanted me there.
Didn’t he?
“Because it’ll be good for you,” Jo said. “You haven’t done any charity stuff in a while.”
“Not that. Why the fucking auction? I could’ve just made a donation or something.”
“Uh, not this kind of donation. I think you’re seriously underestimating the wealth of the people who’re coming to this thing.”
Maybe so. I’d never gone to this event, even though it was an annual thing. I’d never been in town when it was happening before.
“How wealthy?”
“Very.” She grinned at me over her girly drink, looking me over like I was her prize puppy. “Don’t worry. You clean up nice, Xan. Some rich old lady’s gonna bid like a million dollars on you.”
“Right. I thought Trey wanted me to do this thing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“No?”
“Well. He didn’t seem to think you’dwantto do it. And therefore, you wouldn’t be very… Let’s see. How do I put it…? Obedient.”
Seriously?
There were a bunch of guys from the local music industry in this thing. And he didn’t think I’d play nice?
Okay, so maybe he knew me too well…
