Page 70 of Secret Offer
“There. You can be a preschool teacher in the one-year-old room. Whatever that means. But you love kids. It could be okay temporarily.”
“I don’t want something temporary. I want something I can put my heart into long-term.”
“Sounds like you’re talking about a relationship.”
“Yeah, except I don’t want one of those ever again.”
She snorts. “Never say never. Maybe you should just find yourself a sugar daddy and live the sweet life.”
“Ha. Right.”
I take another sip of wine and lean back against the cushions, but I’m still stuck on what Brooke just suggested. Because she might be on to something. Yes, itisa possibility. But I honestly can’t imagine I’d be happy sitting around at home all day, living off of someone else’s money, with no path of my own. Unless…unless Idon’tjust sit around at home all day.
What if I can do what my mom did? Basically wrapping her spouse around her finger to get whatever she wanted. Which, in her case, was never an important role in the family business. But in my case…it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
The fact is, whichever man wins the auction gets me, but they also get the Rockets. Which means that the closest I’d ever getto owning the team would be through this sham of a marriage. But if I could get my husband to give me an active role in the business, I could prove my value and eventually take on more and more responsibilities.
It’s a devil’s bargain. But maybe it’s a bargain I’m willing to make. I wouldn’t be the first woman in history to work my charms to get what I want, and what I want is my damn baseball team.
Sitting up straighter, I grab the wine bottle off the table, bring it to my lips, and tip it back. I drink the wine until my throat can’t hold anymore and I nearly choke.
“Jesus, Blair. Would you like a little oxygen with your alcohol?”
If only she knew how hard it’s been to breathe since Sebastian pulled the rug out from under me.
I hand over the bottle and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I need to go make a call.”
I go into the kitchen and grab my old phone off the top of the refrigerator. When I power it on, it buzzes for ten seconds straight with alerts for unread text messages and voicemails. I ignore all of them. Dialing my father’s number, I dart down the hallway for some privacy as Brooke stares at me with a ‘what the hell is going on?’ expression.
My father answers on the second ring, but the voice that comes out of the phone is my mother’s. “Blair! Where have you been?”
“We’ve been worried sick!” my dad chimes in, and I realize they’ve put me on speakerphone. “Just tell us?—”
“I’ll do it,” I blurt, cutting them off. My pulse races as I lean against the wall and crush the phone against my ear. “I’ll do the auction.”
31
SEBASTIAN
The shockof finding out that Blair agreed to participate in the auction still hasn’t worn off.
Mr. Tisdale called me a few days ago to let me know she was in, and then the two of us had a long talk. To say he was unhappy would be a gross understatement. If he’d been able to strangle me through the phone, I’d be dead right now. But in the end, we came to an agreement.
Because the Tisdales signed an NDA, and breaking the terms of nondisclosure would hurt them just as much as it would hurt the Quattuor Group. Nobody wants to get a reputation for plotting to auction off their daughter without her consent, and our business would be irreparably damaged if clients found out that one of the owners slept with a bachelorette. Not to mention the toll that a protracted, costly lawsuit would take on both sides. So Mr. Tisdale and I settled on a truce to avoid mutually assured destruction, and I worked out a deal that even Nate would be proud of.
Though I’m honestly not sure how proud he’ll actually be when I do come clean to my partners and tell them I’m going to be joining the Tisdale auction as a fourth bidder.
The event begins like any other. Adjusting my laptop on the conference table, I pull up the private server that hosts the secure auction site where the bids will soon begin rolling in. Each of my partners have their own laptops lined up as well, so they can watch the bidding on their own screens. The air is thick with anticipation and nervous energy, but today, the majority of the nerves are mine.
Behind us, champagne chills on ice alongside some of the city’s very best sushi, express delivered from Kurumazushi, and complementary truffles from Kee’s. Auction day is normally cause for celebration, but I’m not so sure if anyone else will be celebrating this outcome besides me. The time hasn’t been right to tell the others what I plan to do, and I have no idea how they’ll react. At this point, however, I'm out of excuses to delay the conversation. It’s imminent.
Because once they log on to the auction site, the first thing they’ll notice is that there are four bidders today instead of three.
Theo comes to stand next to me and looks half-assed at his laptop, then sips his drink and makes a satisfied sound.
“I can already smell the money with this one.”
If this goes my way, it’ll be my money scenting his world.
