Underneath It All. Lori Borrill
and did a happy dance on stage, leaving Devon rolling his eyes on the sidelines. A few more bids widened the margin before Todd’s date finally sold for three thousand eight hundred, relieving the two brothers from their presence on stage.
And of course, waiting by the stairs to be the first to claim her trophy was Ms. Cruella Skin-And-Bones. Nicole turned her attention to her notes, not interested in standing witness to the grand induction.
“Well, that was exciting,” Nicole said, trying to shake off her disappointment and move on with the evening. “They’ve raised over twelve thousand dollars so far and they’re only halfway through their list of bachelors.”
“I wonder if they’ve got any more dueling brothers,” Penny said. “That was amazing. If I wasn’t so broke, I would have gone after Todd. He’s almost as adorable as his brother.”
“Hopefully, we’ll get a lot of responses on the flyers the organizers are passing out to the winning bidders,” Nicole said, again trying to yank the discussion off Devon and onto something more pleasant.
“We should. Most people love the idea of getting on TV,” Eve said. “It wouldn’t surprise me to show up at the station Monday with a dozen voice mail messages.”
“I wonder how many people end up seriously involved after these dates. You know? Like, how many marriages come out of bachelor auctions,” Penny speculated.
The image of Devon and Cruella at the altar flashed in Nicole’s mind, making her seriously wish she’d left Penny at home tonight.
“Probably not many,” Penny added. “But I’ll bet the bulk of them end up at least doing it. I mean, you have to consider the odds and—”
“Can we stop talking about this, please?” Nicole took a breath, hoping to calm her aggravation when a familiar voice sounded behind them.
“I’m disappointed in you, Nicole. I thought I had my lead story for tomorrow’s broadcast.”
It was Stella Graves, The Grave Digger, as the crew at CATL-TV called her. Stella was the entertainment reporter for their rival television station, WTVU. Nicole should have known she’d be sniffing around at this auction tonight. The woman had managed to make a local celebrity of herself by nosing about town speculating on the comings and goings of prominent people in the city. Until recently, only Eve had been notable enough to get an occasional mention in Stella’s nightly gossip segments, and even then it was rare, most likely because WTVU wasn’t keen on giving publicity to its competitors.
But the lottery changed all that. If the win itself hadn’t been big enough news, the scandal created by Liza’s return made them all ripe pickings for anyone looking for a story. And Stella Graves had been right at the front of the pack.
“Granted,” Stella continued, “the friendly wager between the Bradshaw brothers might be a fun mention, but I’d been rooting for you to win. Atlanta would love to know their favorite lottery winners were spending their fortunes buying bachelors.”
Forcing a stiff smile, Nicole replied, “Sorry I couldn’t help you, Stella.”
The woman turned back to the stage and sighed from under the brim of her black felt hat. Part of Stella’s image was to look as though she’d just flown out from Hollywood, though Nicole had been there enough times to know few Hollywood locals actually dressed like her. In California, the wide-brimmed hats and rhinestones were more commonly found on drag queens and stage performers, though in all irony, Stella somehow made it work, coming across as more eccentric than foolish.
And be damned if Atlanta didn’t love her, which made the subjects of her nightly segments all that more annoyed.
Stella spoke through a huff and glanced toward Devon and Cruella. “That Abbey Westlaw certainly isn’t news. If I devoted my segments to all the men she dates, I wouldn’t have time to report on anything else.” She raised a brow and added, “Looks like your Devon will be the next notch on her bedpost, if he’s not there already. They do look as though they already know each other, wouldn’t you say?”
Nicole gritted her teeth and eyed Eve who shot a look that said let it go. They’d all dealt with Stella enough to know this was how she incited news for her segments. Push a few buttons and people were likely to say all kinds of things they’d find repeated on the next day’s taping.
“So,” Stella added. “Have you got your eye on a consolation prize?” She motioned toward a tall blonde near the stage. “That hunk over there looks appetizing. They say he owns a construction company. He’s not quite as handsome as Devon Bradshaw, but he could certainly build you your dream house.”
“Actually,” Nicole replied. “I’m done bidding.” She shoved the notepad at Penny. “Keep track of the auction for me. I’m getting a drink.”
She didn’t ask Eve to join her, needing instead to get away from everyone and clear the garbage from her mind. This whole situation was ridiculous at best. It was bad enough moping over losing a date with Devon. Allowing a local gossipmonger to make her feel even worse tipped the scale to absurd.
Since when had men become such a prized commodity anyway? They came a dime a dozen and she could get any one she wanted without having to fork out thousands of dollars. So she’d come across a guy she found attractive. Big whoop. It wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last.
And as soon as she convinced herself of all that, she’d be fine.
She found one seat available at the bar, slid into it and calmed herself while the bartender finished with his other orders and came down toward her end.
He slid a cocktail napkin in front of her. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay.”
Nodding, the man turned, poured her glass and set it on the napkin. “That’s eight-fifty.”
She reached into her purse, but before she could pull out her wallet, a familiar low drawl sounded over her shoulder.
“It’s on me.”
One masculine hand slid a twenty across the bar, and when she followed it up to the man attached, she found herself staring squarely at two stunning blue eyes.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. If Devon Bradshaw had been handsome from across the room, he was doubly attractive just inches from her nose. His broad chest was wider than she’d noted before, the dimple in his cheek deeper, and the blue of his eyes so vivid they were nearly violet. He leaned against the bar, the motion stretching the dress shirt under his opened suit jacket and relieving any doubt that what lay underneath was one solid mass of chiseled joy.
She fought a gut instinct to reach out and touch him, opting instead to take a breath, and what she got was a lungful of fresh, woodsy aftershave that drugged her thoughts of everything but him…naked.
“Thank you” was all she could say, and even that came out slightly hoarse.
His smile broadened. “Considering what you almost paid for a date, this is the least I could do.”
Clearing her throat, she took a sip of her wine, then managed to utter, “Almost.”
He slid his empty glass across the bar and motioned to the bartender for another. “Well, it’s better you didn’t win the bid. I’d rather take you on a date free of charge.”
She blinked then blinked again. “Take me on a date?”
“If you’ll let me.”
The way he flashed that smile, that eager boyish grin, she doubted any woman could turn down his request—doubted any of them had.
He held out a hand. “I’m Devon Bradshaw.”
Taking it in hers, the warmth of his grasp sent a spray of tingles over her skin, and she now realized for certain that all the silly doubts she’d had about him during the auction amounted to nothing more than her own paranoia.