Chapter 8

Today's the day and I'm excited yet nervous. I can't wait to see who wants to spend a weekend with me. I"m slightly worried that no one will bid, but keep reminding myself that if Edward didn"t think I"d sell, he wouldn"t have chosen me.

My mind keeps wandering about who these buyers could be. Will I end up spending the weekend with the mayor, a millionaire, maybe even a mafia man… or will it be just a normal guy with money?

At least I know it will be a man. No offense to my ladies who love ladies, but I've never been with a woman and while I'm willing to explore, I wasn't willing to risk not getting paid.

I can just imagine getting ready to be intimate with a lady, panicking, and then I'm moneyless. I"d be right back in the same situation I"m in now. With five hundred thousand dollars, I can put an all-cash offer on Grandma"s house, and I"m not about to lose that chance.

The realtor called me yesterday after stating my interest in the property through an email. She said I needed a down payment to even be considered for financing; sixty grand.

I don't have the means to gather that amount on my own. But with the money from this auction, I'll be able to pay for the house and closing costs in cash. No loan, no mortgage. I'll own it free and clear.

Did Edward's email say anything about packing a bag? Should I put a few things in my BEIS weekender? He had me pick an alias and informed me that my hair and makeup would be done, but what am I supposed to wear all weekend?

I need to at least bring my toothbrush and deodorant, so I grab my bag and drop them inside. Grabbing a pajama set from my drawer, I shove that in. And, just in case I'm not naked all weekend, I snag two T-shirts and biker shorts. Then I grab the little bag holding my lingerie for tonight and call it good.

Now, I just need to shower.

I pad across the floor, and as the bathroom door creaks open, I step inside and turn on the light. After finding the perfect temperature, steam billows from the shower. I shed my clothes and twirl in front of the mirror before stepping inside.

The water cascades over me, warm and comforting, washing away my nerves. I massage shampoo into my hair, the scent of mango mingling with the steamy air.

Thoughts of tonight swirl in my mind, excitement simmering beneath the surface.

I scrub my skin clean, feeling rejuvenated as I prepare for the big night ahead. I let the water run a little longer, relishing the solitude and the promise of what"s to come before stepping out.

I grab a towel and dry off before sliding into a magenta sundress, the fabric cool against my skin, perfect for the warm evening weather. Facing the mirror once more, I spin around, the vibrant colors lifting my spirits. With a smile, I slip on a pair of boots and my denim jacket. I'm ready for my ride to get here and take me to a life of not worrying about shit.

Taking a seat on the couch, I scroll TikTok while I wait. I wonder if Edward told everyone my name for tonight or if I need to introduce myself as such. I decided to use the nickname Grandma used to call me—Birdie.

She said that when I was little and she'd feed me or offer me a bite of something, I'd open my mouth like a baby bird. So she called me Birdie, and it stuck. Even in her obituary, it said survived by her granddaughter, Birdie (Sloane).

A knock on the door has me dropping my phone.

"Shit!" I hiss as I bend to pick it up.

I stand up and hurry to answer it, swinging it open. An older man in a tuxedo is standing on the other side. He's even wearing driving gloves.

"Hello, Birdie." He tips his hat at me and I smile. "I'm Maxwell. I'm here to take you to Club Lust."

"Perfect. Let me just grab my bag and I'm ready," I say as I leave him at the door. Rushing to my bedroom, I grab it by the straps and sling it over my shoulder, before running back to where my driver awaits.

Maxwell steps to the side, allowing me to walk out, and I lock the door, dropping my keys in my bag. I won't need them again until early Monday morning.

He leads me to a fancy black town car, his confident stride telling me he's done this before.

I wonder if this is something he does every year? How much does one get paid to deliver a willing vagina or dick to an auction? Maybe I should ask Edward if I can have that job when my weekend is up. I can't be auctioned again since the rules state this is a once-in-a-lifetime deal. But I could get myself a sweet driver outfit and deliver merchandise in the following years.

He opens the door, holding it so I can climb inside. I slide across the plush leather seat, greeted by the subtle scent of luxury. Maxwell"s professionalism shines as he checks that I"m comfortably settled and buckled up. As he closes the door with a soft thud, I feel a sense of reassurance wash over me.

Maxwell settles into the driver"s seat, the familiar sound of the song on the radio playing as he starts the car and pulls away.

With a confident hand, he guides the town car through the bustling streets, the city lights painting streaks across the windshield. My leg bounces along to the radio as I watch out the window.

We pull up in front of a large, abandoned looking warehouse and my eyes widen, breath hitching with uncertainty.

Dammit! I knew this was too good to be true. I'm gonna be auctioned off alright, but instead of being a sexy guest, I'm gonna end up sold to a serial killer like in that movie, Hostel.

Maxwell catches my eye in the rearview mirror. "Hey, don"t worry," he assures me in a calming tone. "This is Club Lust, as promised."

He gets out and comes to the back, opening my door. I get out, grab my bag, and look up at the building. "Maxwell, I'm starting to think I've been played."

"The outside is supposed to give off that old-school rave vibe." He does air quotes around old school. "The inside is a whole different story. I wouldn't drop anyone off to be murdered. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. You"ll be more than okay once we"re in there."

"I don't know why, Maxwell, but I'm gonna trust you. If you get me murdered, I'm coming back and haunting you forever." I wink at him.

"The setup also keeps prying eyes and ears off the event every year. Try to relax. You"re in good hands." Maxwell extends his elbow, a silent invitation for me to follow.

I loop mine through it, and he escorts me through the entrance of Club Lust. We walk in silence, Maxwell"s presence a steady reassurance beside me. We approach an elevator and he pushes a code of some sort in before smiling at me. The doors glide open smoothly, revealing an empty cabin.

Without hesitation, he pulls me gently inside. The doors close behind us, and after Maxwell pushes a button, the elevator begins its descent.

Down? We came in on street level… so where are we going?

When we reach our destination, the doors slide back open, revealing a woman waiting for us, a large smile on her face.

"I have Birdie," Maxwell tells her as he un-links our arms.

"My name is Natalie. I'm going to show you to your dressing room. There are drinks and snacks in the room since it's going to be a long night. The beauty team will be in shortly to get you ready."

"Sounds good," I answer, not really knowing what else to say.

"Good luck, Birdie." Maxwell pats my shoulder before disappearing back into the elevator.

"Before I can show you to your room," Natalie speaks, pulling my attention back to her. "You"ll need to pull a number to determine your position in the auction."

She holds out a small bowl filled with folded pieces of paper. With a sense of anticipation, I reach in and select one, fingers trembling slightly. Unfolding it with cautious excitement, I reveal the number two.

"Number two." I flip the paper her way so she can confirm.

Number two means there are a lot of people behind me to be bought, so maybe the crowd won't be ready to spend their money yet. I'm going to have to really appeal to their wants.

Fuck!

Why couldn't I be… like number ten? I don't know how many lots there are but ten seems like a good number.

Don't think like that. What's that thing kids say?

First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairy chest.

I'm the best. I just need to keep telling myself that and maybe I'll start believing it.

Natalie"s fingers glide across the touchscreen of the tablet she grabbed from the desk. She sets the device aside with a thud and lifts her gaze to meet mine.

"Okay, well, let"s get you to your room, shall we?"

With a slight wave, she gestures for me to follow her.

We walk down a long hallway with doors on each side. The walls are rich black with sleek marble floors, glistening chandeliers, and modern art adorning the walls.

Natalie stops in front of a door that has Birdie written across it like I'm some sort of movie star.

"This one's you." She pushes it open and I step inside. "The team will be in soon for hair and makeup. Enjoy." She closes the door and I hear the latch click, leaving me alone.

Looking around, I check out my room for the night. The walls are a light gray that envelops the space in a sense of calm. The air carries a faint scent of new leather from a black couch and chair, inviting me to sink into their plush cushions. Against the far wall is a glossy black vanity with a massive mirror bordered by lights.

The vanity is covered in an array of makeup and hair tools. I run my fingers over the cool surface, and a surge of anticipation builds within me.

Beside the chair, a small side table holds a tote overflowing with snacks, a mix of sweet and savory treats and an ice bucket filled with water and pop.

With a deep breath, I settle into the chair, grab a pop, and crack it open, ready for the glam team to come transform me.