“Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll call tomorrow.” The wails grew stronger. “Ah, shit. Monday at eleven, at your office.”
“Monday at eleven.” I hung up and tucked my phone away. At least my date would get a vacation if I couldn’t, which was why I’d chosen a lake getaway instead of the Caribbean. I was never far from work, and I tried not to quit working, just like I avoided being home alone with nothing to do. Idle time only let my mind think about the past, and the present I couldn’t forget.
A knock on the door jolted me out of my reverie. I opened it to a pretty brunette with a dress laminated over her banging bod. My backup plan.
“Becky, thank God.”
Her brows knit together and she tilted her head. “Flynn.”
“Okay, it’s just like my text said, all you have to do is outbid everyone. I’ll cover the cost. I’ve already arranged it with the owner.”
Wes had oozed disappointment and shaken his head, but something about my insistence had registered. “I’m not hiding this from Mara, but I’ll kill you if Tilly finds out you duped her.”
I could live with that.
My soon-to-be vacation buddy narrowed her eyes on me. “Mm-kay.”
I flashed my most dazzling grin. “I’ll make it worth your while, Becky.” She knew how well we worked together in bed, it was why I’d chosen her for my desperate SOS. Whether she slept with me again, I didn’t care. She’d get a vacation and Tilly wouldn’t waste her money on a guy who wasn’t interested in her—and she’d never know.
Instead of a smile in return, Becky scrutinized me for a moment before sauntering away.
I swallowed a moment of guilt. Of course, I didn’t want to hurt Crazy J’s feelings. She always seemed to have the best intentions, but then she blatantly stomped all over the limits. I couldn’t let her win out of pity, couldn’t delude myself that she’d be able to walk away after spending one-on-one time together, not after the way she crushed on me in high school and the way she reacted after seeing me again. This was best for her.
Then why did I feel like what I was doing was insulting and seedy?
It was a little underhanded, and I owned it. I always owned my work. The plan had been laid out for Becky in my message before I’d agreed. She knew what she was getting into, but I had to admit I was afraid Tulip—Tilly would find out. If she did, then dammit, I’d explain it. I didn’t run from the hard times. Not anymore. I had built my business from the motherfucking bottom with a nail gun, and I’d done it all honestly.
Wes popped into the doorway. “Ready, bachelor number five?”
I straightened my tie for the twentieth time. I wished I could’ve roamed the floor and worked the crowd, but Mara had felt that might start too much drama. She’d passed the flyers around with our stats and the details of our getaways. Now for my debut.
I followed Wes to the showroom. Blinking into the dim crowd of people, the nervous flutter that preceded my almost-cured stuttering problem flared. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to speak.
Wes took a stance in front of the microphone and I posed next to him. I scanned the audience but couldn’t find Crazy J. I mentally reprimanded myself. Probably should try to call her Tilly. Didn’t feel right. Tulip fits her much better. A bright flower that bloomed despite the dullness around it.
God, was I going to start spouting poetry?
I kept searching and finally found Becky, her spectacular cleavage on display. I shot her a smile, but she just narrowed her eyes at me and looked around. Was she searching for the crazy lady I’d described?
“And now we have bachelor number five.” Wes’s deep voice quieted the murmurs in the crowd. Then someone let out a wolf whistle.
My gaze was drawn to the catcaller. Opposite the platform from Becky stood a pretty young woman in a flowery, flowing dress that stood out among the typical cocktail dresses.
Wes’s introduction droned on as I squinted at her. The woman might not be dressed as fancy, but she held herself well. The elegant twist in her light brown hair bared a slender neck, and as much as I wanted to let my gaze drift down her body to what must be spectacular legs, I had to see her face. When she caught my gaze and smiled wide, my heart seized.
Holy. Shit.
Tulip “Crazy J” Johnson. And I’d just checked her out.
I ripped my gaze away and aimed my smile at someone else. Anyone else. Any female from twenty to eighty, I didn’t care. I needed to be on my game and Tilly messed with my mind.
“Now with all that out of the way, who’s going to open the bid at five hundred?” Wes said, both of us looking out at the crowd.
Several paddles rose. But Becky hadn’t moved.
“Do I have one thousand?”
Fewer paddles now. Still not Becky, but she was probably holding out until she had to step in.
Wes played up the crowd and the tension almost stopped my pulse. “Nice, ladies. The Center for Abuse Recovery and Arcadia thanks you all for your generosity. With that being said, who wants a lazy lake vacation for two thousand dollars?”
Three paddles waved. One was a lady as old as my grandma. Another was a cute lady in a tight dress—totally my type. The third was Tulip.
I glanced at Becky. She stood with her arms folded and a brow arched.
I swallowed.
“Two thousand five hundred?” Wes asked.
“Ten thousand, two hundred and twenty-eight
