Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Freakin' Christmas

HOLLY

Without even saying a single word, I reached across the table, grabbed the rest of Alana's tequila and shot the damn thing straight back, looking for that burn to shock my heart back into beating.

Alana, as suspected, didn't so much as flinch. The woman was as cool as a cucumber while my internal temperature skyrocketed and sweat beaded at my hairline and underneath my arms.

"You want to—" I gulped, not being able to suck in enough air as the dots of what she just explained connected in my mind.

I jumped up, fanning my suddenly flushed face, and went to the window over the sink. I was too fucking hot. My fingers scrambled to unlock the rusted hinge and shove the damn thing open. But once I did, a blessedly cool desert breeze smacked me in the face. I inhaled deeply several times, letting the chilly air cool my heated skin. Putting my hands to the edge of the sink, I braced myself and turned my head to look at Alana.

As I'd come to expect, she was sitting quietly and rather elegantly in my kitchen chair, her body and face the epitome of relaxed feminine beauty. I, on the other hand, was losing my shit.

"You want to put me , Holly Knight, up for auction? For marriage?"

" Oui, chérie . That is correct." She blinked prettily.

"A marriage auction. So I would what, stand up, like on a stage, and have men bid on me? Like cattle?"

Alana shook her head. "No, Holly. Not like cattle. More like art. Living, breathing, art."

I shook my head, reached for a glass that had been drying in the rack next to the sink, filled it with water and glugged it down.

"I don't get it."

Alana patted the table. "Why don't you sit down? We'll discuss the finer details, and maybe I can relieve any concerns you might have."

"Might have. I can think of a hundred concerns. The first one being how is this legal?"

"Darling, arranged marriages happen every day all over the world. This is not a new concept, I assure you."

"Not to me, they don't," I scoffed.

Alana merely pressed her lips together and waited patiently for me to quiet down. Reminded me of when I was back in grade school and I'd just been scolded by the teacher for speaking out of turn. Alana didn't even have to say anything when her facial expression and patient silence said it all for her.

I clamped my big mouth shut.

"Let me go over the primary details. The rest is laid out in a contract that both the candidate and bidder have to sign prior to the auction. I promise you, everything is entirely legal—and most importantly— safe . I have been in this business for thirty years. I met my husband in a marriage auction."

I gasped. "You and Christophe?"

"It seems like a lifetime ago," she said with a level of whimsy to her features I hadn't yet seen. "Truly, it was the best decision I ever made. We were fortunate enough to fall in love rather quickly, and beyond that, I had the financial security I needed. It is what led me to purchase the marriage auction from the original owner. He wasn't running a legal or safe business. Now, when I have a male or female candidate enter the auction, they are my priority. Their happiness and safety is crucial to my success."

I fiddled with my fingers while taking in what she said. "How does it work exactly?"

"Well, when a candidate, let's say you for example, decides to join the auction, there is a list of rules and requirements that must be met. The primary ones are as follows:

You must marry the bidder within thirty days of signing the contract the night of the auction.

You must consummate that marriage within two weeks of the wedding ceremony.

You must live, travel, and have regular sexual relations as any married couple would, for a period of three years."

"And what happens after the three-year period?" I interrupted.

"That is up to you and your husband. Most of my matches end up falling in love and staying together."

"And if I agreed to marry a stranger?" I gulped then let out a sharp breath. "God, I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth. My mother would freakin' kill me." I released a nervous sigh. "If I agreed to marry some rich guy, I'd get three million dollars?"

"Most of my candidates go for far more. A beauty like you…" She tapped her crimson nail against her perfectly matching red lips as she hummed then tilted her head while accessing my face. "If I had to guess, which I despise doing chérie , because truly you are priceless in your own way…"

"But if you had to guess?" I encouraged.

"No less than five million."

"Ho, ho, ho, Merry Frickin' Christmas to me! Jesus," I blurted and covered my face with both of my hands. "Five million dollars. I can't even imagine having that much money. It would be life changing. Heck, it would change my entire family's lives. My parents could retire comfortably, and I could open my bar."

"Exactly. And possibly gain yourself a true partner in life," Alana added, as if that mattered even a little bit.

"Pssshhhhttt!" I waved her off. "I've dated a lot of men. All of them left much to be desired. I'm perfectly happy being alone and a spinster."

"You do not wish for love, chérie ?" Alana did that thing where she covered her heart with her hand. I was beginning to hate that gesture. It seemed everyone around me felt the need to protect their heart.

Maybe I'd become too cynical, but I'd never in my thirty years of life met a man I loved enough to even want to get married. Sharing my entire existence with someone and having my happiness all wrapped up in theirs sounded like the cherry on a shit cake. I guess I was too selfish for that.

Personally, I wanted a thriving business of my own making. I wanted to be the one to secure my future happiness. However, the one thing I did miss about being in a committed relationship was regular sex. It had been a solid year since my last hook-up, and the Lord knew I could use a wild romp in the sack.

"No, I don't wish for love. I have love in my life. My parents, my friends, Mac and his club downstairs. Love doesn't have to be romantic in order to feel fulfilled. At least not to me it doesn't," I stated emphatically.

It drove me up the wall when people thought my life wasn't full because it didn't have a man in it. Not that Alana suggested that specifically, but the underlying point had to be made. I wasn't lacking anything because I didn't have a man. I was lacking a heaping pile of cash to make all my dreams come true, not a guy.

Alana's smile turned positively wicked. "Then it seems I have chosen well. You want financial security. I can give you that. It just depends on whether or not you are willing to give up your freedom, and the life you currently live, for the next three years in order to get it."

"What's in it for them? Better yet, what's in it for you? Do you get a cut of my three mil?"

She shook her head. "My commission gets paid by the bidder. You pay nothing. On the night of the auction, once you both sign on the dotted line, you are sent a deposit of $250,000. Once you are married a third of the bid gets transferred. Then on your first anniversary the second installment, and the same on the next anniversary. By the third anniversary if you do not want to stay married, you get divorced."

I sucked air through my teeth as I considered that once I got married to my bidder, I'd be a million dollars richer. That was a lot of money.

"And what happens if the bidder doesn't like what he purchases or I can't stand him?"

Alana smiled. "There are systems in place for that as well. That is why we suggest the wedding occur within thirty days of the auction, so you have time to get to know your husband. However, I am doing something entirely different for the Christmas auction. For the next month, I have requested each bidder take the candidate they are interested in on a date."

"A date?"

" Oui . This will give the candidate and the bidder a bit of time to connect. See if there is physical attraction, camaraderie, shared interests, maybe even an insta-love connection."

I snort-laughed and received a raised eyebrow from Alana in response. "Do you mock me?"

"No, God no!" I rushed to explain. "I just think insta-love is only in fairytales. Insta-lust sure. I've experienced that a time, or ten . But I've never believed in that love-at-first-sight stuff. It's impractical and unrealistic, in my humble opinion. But you know, my mom always taught me, ‘to each their own.' Just because I haven't experienced it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"I agree," Alana said.

"Um, now about the bidders. What's in it for them?"

"Each bidder has their own reasons. I've heard and seen it all."

"Could you be more specific? If I'm to consider a monster-sized risk, marriage to a stranger, I need to see this plan from both sides."

Alana tapped her nail on the table and pursed her lips. "I cannot give you names or likenesses, but I can share some scenarios, if that would help."

"It would. It totally would." I smiled and danced in my chair encouragingly.

"Well let's see, I've had twin brothers who were set to gain an enormous inheritance provided they were married. Another was hopelessly in love with a woman that had put herself up for auction in order to gain enough money to save her family's land from being purchased from underneath her, by that same man in fact."

"No way! That's scandalous as all get-out. What happened?" I leaned forward, hoping to pull the details from her faster.

"They got married, fell in love, and are expanding their family."

"Wow. I'll bet that match made you feel like a boss bitch." I chuckled.

She smirked. "Truth be told, I'm rather proud of that pairing."

"What else?"

"Sometimes it's not so exciting. One male candidate I had needed a great deal of money to help his very large family. The woman who purchased him had given up on the idea of love and just wanted a man in her life to be there for her. Another bidder was lonely and a single father who had been widowed. Let's see… Oh, the last auction, I had a bidder who wanted to find a woman he could love and have children with."

"Children?" I scoffed. "You mean some of these matches have babies even knowing they're going to end their marriage in three years?"

Alana nodded. "Everything is up for negotiation."

"Would I be required to have a child? Because if that's the case, I'm out. There's no amount of money that could make me want to have a baby with a stranger. I'm not even sure I want kids."

Alana laughed. "No, no, chérie . Once you've agreed to participate, we go through all of your likes and dislikes, sexually and otherwise. We are professionals in setting up marriages of convenience, not baby breeders. However, some couples enter into the auction to find a forever pairing. Some actually want children regardless of the time limit. If both parties are open to such thing, we make that known in the contract."

"Well, put me down for the ‘no baby' option," I said dryly. I couldn't even imagine such a thing.

"Does that mean you are open to entering the auction? I'm afraid I do need an answer rather quickly as we have already entered into our one-month window of setting up dates with potential bidders prior to the actual auction on Christmas Eve."

"I don't know," I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. "I need to think about it. Can I have a couple days?"

Alana nodded, grabbed her wristlet and pulled out another of those black business cards. Her name was on one side, a phone number on the other. That was it. So cool. She slid the card across the table and stood up.

"I hope to hear from you, Holly. I do believe you'd be the perfect candidate for this event. Think about it. And if you have any additional questions, feel free to call." She pointed at the door to my apartment. "I'll see myself out."

"Uh, yeah," I stood up feeling a little shaky. "Thank you for…um… thinking of me. I'll consider it."

"You do that. Au revoir. "

Alana left through the door, and I slumped back into my kitchen chair, holding her card. Am I seriously considering this? Three million for three years. Marrying a stranger. It seemed completely unreal. Like I'd entered one of those parallel universe movies. Then again, the money was nothing to sneeze at. And it was only three years.

My mind swam with visions of the establishment I wanted to open. The handcrafted mahogany bar I'd have made, the colorful bottles of top shelf liquor I'd stock. The super unique glasses and different drinks I'd offer. I had a journal of all the ideas I had for Night Owl, the name I'd chosen for my dream bar. I'd planned to make the inside look uber chic yet earthy like being inside a dark, dreamy forest. I'd even sketched an owl with little stars around it as the potential logo.

The more I thought about my dream bar, the more I considered accepting the opportunity Alana had presented. Yet the big question swirling like a vortex within my mind was the same.

Could I marry a stranger for a boatload of money?