26. Starting Bid

26

STARTING BID

EVANGELINE

“ E verything okay?” Bethany asks.

I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m worried about Darren,” I reply. “I think the campaign is really taking a toll on him.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, how are you doing with everything?”

I let out a breath. “It’s been a while since someone has asked me that.”

“Forgive me for not asking sooner,” she apologizes.

“No, I just meant I don’t think I’ve had time to really think about how I’ve felt,” I offer.

“It’s a lot,” she offers, giving my arm a tight squeeze.

“I’ve been thinking the worst in people for so long that I’ve grown to expect it,” I explain. “But Catharina Hale just offered to have lunch with me next week, and Finn McCarthy has been nothing but generous, and it’s just so—” I don’t finish the sentence.

“Overwhelming?” Bethany finishes for me.

“Yes,” I reply.

“When you just be yourself, that’s what people admire the most. And the ones that don’t… it is more about them than it is about you,” she offers.

“The VIP bags are set up near the exit,” Audrina announces as she reaches the auction table. Rebecca stands awkwardly next to her.

“Oh good, as soon as the auction ends, we can start handing them as people leave,” Bethany smiles.

“Rebecca, I wonder if I can…”

“We should get the auction started,” she announces.

I tap the microphone to make sure it’s on and it makes a muffled noise through the speakers.

“If you have not registered for the auction, you should do so now and get your paddles because the auction will be starting soon,” I say to the crowd.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming to the annual charity gala for the Abigail Pershing Foundation. My name is Evangeline Walker, and as chairwoman of the foundation, I would like to say that this year we have some exciting items for you to bid on.” I stop as guests applaud and wait for it to die down before I continue.

“I would first like to thank all of the members of the committee for helping to put this event on.” I wave my hand to the side of the stage where Audrina, Bethany, and Rebecca stand. “And a very special thank you to the women of Compton House for helping to set up the event tonight.” I point to the back of the room where some of the volunteers are standing, shocked and pleased expressions on their faces.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get the auction started!” I boom, and the crowd claps.

“Okay, get your paddles ready because this first item is sure to be a bigger hit than his last movie. A lunch date with Finn McCarthy!” The crowd grows excited as Finn steps up onstage. I hand him the mic momentarily and look out into the crowd. I find Darren near the back and try to catch his eye to make sure he knows he’s up next, but he seems preoccupied with Rausch.

“Thank you,” Finn greets into the mic. “I’m happy to be here for such a good cause.”

He hands the mic back to me.

“Our starting bid is one thousand dollars,” I barely get out when several paddles are raised into the air. “Fifteen hundred anyone?” I knew Finn would draw in quite a large sum but as the price goes up and up, I’m flabbergasted.

“Ten thousand dollars going once, going twice,” I announce. “Number 907, Finn McCarthy is yours!”

Finn raises his eyebrows at me as a very happy elderly woman, dripping in diamonds, ambles forward to claim her prize.

I look through the crowd for Darren again, but he’s not paying attention to me or the auction. His back is to me, and he seems to be arguing with Rausch.

“Okay, our next auction item is a one-hour Bar Exam prep advice session with none other than my husband, Darren Walker—who’s running for Congress, so if you’re from District five, vote for Darren.” I get a few laughs.

I thought my introduction would get his attention, but it hasn’t. Rausch points in my direction and Darren smacks his hand away. I watch in horror as he gets in Rausch’s face as if he’s ready to brawl right here.

I look to Bethany for help, and she takes the mic from me while I step off the stage.

“Apologies, our next auction item will be a romantic meal for two cooked by Michelin chef Alain Ducasse,” Bethany announces, and their attention is back to the stage instead of the scene unfolding in front of me.

Darren and Rausch are usually at each other’s throats, but not like this. There’s real anger on Darren’s face as I step between them.

“Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” I push against Darren’s chest, his expression dropping as soon as he sees me.

Rausch adjusts his bowtie with an indignant look on his face. “I don’t know what has gotten into you,” he grumbles.

“God, do you always have to act like a pretentious prick?” Darren barks.

“I could ask the same about your petulant behavior,” Rausch counters back.

“I would try to care what you think of me but that would take too much effort.” Darren glares back at him while taking a sip of his drink.

“If that’s the attitude you have no wonder you’re sinking in the polls,” Rausch reprimands.

“The only good thing about that is you drowning with me.”

“Get your shit together.”

“Darren,” I bark out. “This isn’t the place.”

“You know what, Dexter?”

I’ve never heard him call Rausch by his first name.

“You can fuck off. You’re fired,” he announces as he stalks off.

I look back at Rausch in shock as he shakes his head, and then I follow Darren through the crowd, grabbing his arm and hauling him outside.

“What the fuck is going on, Darren?”

“Nothing,” he heaves.

“Don’t patronize me,” I fume. “You know how much this night meant to me and you almost ruined the auction.” I wave my hand towards the room, still able to hear Bethany as she manages the bidding.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I pace in front of him. “You’ve been drinking, and then you pick a fight with Rausch.”

“It’s a party. Am I not allowed to enjoy a drink?”

“You’ve had more than just a drink. I haven’t seen you like this since your parents…” I don’t finish the sentence.

“Since my parents died? Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I say quietly as I watch him imploding from the inside out. “What is going on, Darren?”

His hazel eyes are more green than brown at the moment. They settle on me.

“I met my grandfather,” he tells me, and I remove my hand from him.

“When?” I question, surprised.

“I don’t know,” he runs a hand through his hair. “A few days ago, maybe a week,” he offers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“You were busy with the gala, and I didn’t want to…”

“That’s bullshit, Darren,” I bark, and that gets his attention. “Don’t make excuses. What aren’t you telling me?” I demand.

He narrows his eyes, holding onto the back of his neck while he paces in front of the door.

“You can talk to me,” I coax him because I can see the turmoil in his eyes, and I want to take the burden from him.

“He told me the reason he was arrested was because he’d caught my father and a boy together. That he’d been confused and angry and drunk, and he’d set the house on fire,” Darren explains, and his words steal my breath. The pearls at my neck suddenly feel tight.

“He thought your father and this boy were…” I start to say but I’m cut off.

“ Rausch and my father,” he starts to say, stopping in front of me. “The affair my father was having?” He pauses, and I search his eyes, my stomach tightening in response. “It was with Rausch.”

“How do you even know your grandfather is telling you the truth?” I question. “You don’t know if you can trust him, Darren.” Right now, he’s vulnerable. I know how that overwhelming need to have a connection to someone can lead you astray from what you know is right.

“You think Rausch would tell me the truth?” Darren counters. “It all makes sense now. That’s what the letter was about. The third person in my parents’ marriage was him.”

I place my hand on his back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin this night for you.” He pulls back to look at me, holding my face in his hands.

“Well, that went as planned,” I say sarcastically.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the crook of my neck. “I’m so sorry.”

He ducks his head from me and looks back into the terrace. “I can’t be in the same room as him.”

I place my hands over his and search his eyes. I take Darren’s hand. “I have to give closing remarks,” I tell him.

“You should be enjoying your night and I ruined it. Exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” he apologizes.

“I’m your wife, Darren.” I take hold of him. “Your burden is my burden. If you’re hurting, then use me to take it away.”

He stares at me, his eyes darkening and his lips parting. I swallow hard and take his hand as we rush through the hall as much as I can in my heels, avoiding the terrace and the guests.