8. Harlan

8

HARLAN

"Holy shit!" Dawson's eyes were wide as he slapped his hand on my shoulder. "I feel like I should get the Wingman of the Year award."

I grinned, still feeling like I was floating on cloud nine as Dawson and I made our way backstage. My head was spinning from the dizzying kiss I'd just shared with Daphne Moore. She'd taken me completely by surprise. When I called her bluff and leaned down to kiss her, I'd thought for sure she'd bail. But she held her ground in that kiss chicken game.

"You two, here!" Lorraine Shelby, the event organizer who had interrupted my and Daphne's kiss, pointed for us to take our place at the end of a line of three men.

I glanced down and saw that the lineup of Firefly Island's most eligible bachelors was stacked.

"First up, we have Mark Lyons!" Leo Paulson, who was emceeing the event, announced. Leo was a retired radio personality who left his morning DJ job to start a true crime podcast.

"Go, go!" Lorraine waved Mark onto the stage.

As he stepped out, Leo spoke even louder over the applause. "Mark Lyons was born and raised on Firefly Island. In high school, as quarterback, he led Firefly High to victory as they won two consecutive state championships in his junior and senior years. He is a single dad of a six-year-old girl and the CFO at Lyon Vineyards, which has been in his family for two generations. He loves surfing, spending time with his daughter, and good food paired with the perfect glass of wine."

The Lyons were one of the wealthiest families on Firefly Island, along with the Culpeppers and Abernathys. Between the three families, they owned ninety percent of the island.

"We are going to start the bid at one hundred. Do we have one hundred?"

As the bidding went on, I started to get a little nervous. What if no one bids for me? Typically, I wouldn't care, but I was a little self-conscious with Daphne out in the crowd.

I still couldn't believe she'd kissed me. My lips still tingled from the brief encounter. It had been…electric. The energy between us had crackled with intensity. I didn't want to be backstage waiting to be paraded out like a piece of meat. I wanted to be with Daphne. In the hallway. In the ballroom. Hell, I'd settle for the parking lot. I just wanted to be near her.

"Fifteen hundred, going once, going twice. Sold to the woman in red!"

The crowd cheered, and Mark walked backstage, passing Jerry Clemons on his way.

"Next up, we have Jerry Clemons," Leo announced.

Jerry was a few years behind me in school. As a kid, I remembered he was an incredible dancer. He won breakdancing competitions in middle and high school, but his real accomplishments had been on the football field. Unlike Mark, who hung up his cleats after high school, Jerry had made it to the NFL.

The crowd was cheering as Jerry hit center stage.

"Jerry Clemons is also a Firefly Island native and had his own success on the gridiron. He was a second-round draft pick and spent three years in the NFL before retiring."

Dawson and I shared a look. He hadn't so much ‘retired' as he was dropped because he'd failed drug tests and had three DUIs in the span of six months. Although, I have to say, since being home, I'd been impressed at how much he'd cleaned up his act.

"Since returning to Firefly," Leo continued, "Jerry has dedicated his life to motivational speaking and started a mentorship program that helps at-risk youth. He enjoys any sort of competition, loves to hike or do anything outdoors, but equally enjoys lounging on the couch binge-watching television shows. Jerry is ready to settle down and find someone to join him on trails and to cuddle with on the sofa. Let's start the bidding at one hundred dollars. Do we have one hundred?"

This time, the bidding went up to eighteen hundred. As the last person in line, I wondered if there was going to be anyone with deep pockets by the time I went.

"Next up, we have Dr. Elias Russell. Dr. Russell is a thirty-four-year-old pediatric heart surgeon who stands six foot two. He is a foodie who loves cooking, reading, mountain biking, and, oh, this is surprising, antiquing. He's looking for someone who is adventurous, kind, and independent."

Leo didn't even mention Elias's best qualities, which were his dimples, physique, and tattoos. He was catnip for women.

"Let's start the bidding at one hundred dollars!"

The bidding quickly rose before the final bid came in at twenty-one hundred dollars. It didn't surprise me that he'd gone for the highest amount. I was glad that I wasn't immediately following him.

As Elias headed backstage, I slapped Dawson on his shoulder. "Good luck."

He grinned at me and shook his head.

"Next up, we have Jack Dawson the sixth. The Dawson men carried that name long before Leonardo DiCaprio made it famous in the movie Titanic . Jack stands at an impressive six foot five inches tall. He is a Firefly Island firefighter who some of you might recognize as Mr. March from last year's bestselling FIF calendar. Jack's downtime is spent playing online poker, hanging out with friends, gardening, working on home renovations, and volunteering at the local animal shelter. Jack needs someone who isn't afraid to get their hands dirty and likes to be active."

"I'll be active with you!" someone shouted from the crowd.

Beside me, Lorraine's hand touched her earpiece. "We've got a heckler at table four. Let's keep an eye on her."

"We're starting the bidding at one hundred dollars."

Jack ended up going for a respectable nineteen hundred dollars.

As I stood on the edge of the stage, my palms grew damp, and my heart was beating a little faster in my chest. The crowd was cheering as Jack headed back. I started to walk out, but Lorraine stopped me as she leaned over to say something to me, which I didn't hear.

"What?" I asked as Leo announced my name.

"Your mask! Take off your mask!" she said louder.

Oh shit. I'd totally forgotten I'd had it on. I pulled it off and handed it to Dawson as we passed each other. The spotlight found me within two steps, and the crowd cheered as I made my way to center stage. I scanned the middle section of the room where Daphne was seated with her aunt, but my visibility was shit, thanks to the beam of light blinding me.

"Harlan Mitchell stands six foot four inches tall. He played division one baseball at Auburn University before being drafted by the Waves, where he spent two years in the minors before finally getting called up to the big leagues. His career was just getting started when he suffered a career-ending injury. But Harlan didn't let that get him down!"

The crowd erupted with cheers at Leo's announcement, which surprised me until I turned and saw that on the screen they'd put up photos from my last calendar shoot.

Growing up, I'd always thought I was going to have baseball cards with my name on them. Not a calendar where I was half naked that accounted for about thirty percent of the farm's annual income. I never thought I'd have a workout program that would become a vacation destination. I also never thought I'd be solely responsible for the farm.

People assumed I was rich just because I played professional baseball for a year; that was not the case. It was my rookie year, and I didn't have anything guaranteed. I'd already sunk all my savings into the farm, and now I was surviving solely on the revenue the classes and calendar brought in.

"Harlan is the creator of a boutique bootcamp class called Farm Strong. He loves family, his farm, and fitness. He is ready to settle down and start a family, which means ladies, if he likes it, he'll put a ring on it. Let's start the bidding at one hundred dollars!"

Multiple paddles went up. I couldn't see who the paddles belonged to, just the flash of them as they lifted and then dropped.

"Do we have two hundred?"

Again, the room was scattered with paddles.

"Do we have five hundred?"

At that point, it appeared even more paddles went up. Which made no sense. Logic dictates the higher the bid, the fewer paddles in the air.

"One thousand," a woman's voice in the far back corner sounded. I didn't recognize it and squinted, trying to see through the darkened space, but was unable to make out any features. She was just a shadowy figure.

"One thousand going once, going twice?—"

"Fifteen hundred!" Maxine Flanders slurred.

I couldn't see her, but I'd recognize her voice anywhere. She'd started taking Farm Strong classes about three months ago, right after she walked in on her husband and her sister in bed together.

"Two thousand," the woman in the back corner countered.

I felt a small thrill knowing that I was going to go for a hundred dollars more than Dawson. Not that it was a competition, but it sort of was. As flattered as I was, I was also a little nervous about what exactly would be expected for two grand. I didn't think that a few hours of my time and a dinner was really worth that.

"Two thousand five hundred!" Maxine burped loudly and then hiccupped.

I would be concerned that she was spending money she didn't have, but due to the personal nature of the affair, she'd ended up with quite a nice amount of cash from Kent Flanders.

"Five thousand." Unlike Maxine, the woman's voice coming from the back corner was clear and decisive. She did not sound like she was under the influence at all, which made me even more nervous because that meant she was bidding five grand stone-cold sober.

"Five thousand…going once…going twice, SOLD to the lovely bidder in the far-right corner."

I lifted my hand in a wave, turned, and made my way off the stage.

As soon as I stepped out of the spotlight, Dawson asked, "Who the hell was that?"

"I don't know."

"Someone just paid five grand for your ass, and you don't know who they are?!" he questioned.

My chin dipped in a nod.

He shook his head and sighed. "Fucking Farm Strong."

I understood why he might think it was one of the Farm Strong groupies, and even though I had no proof to the contrary, I wasn't convinced that was the case. I didn't know who this mystery woman was, but I would be finding out soon. Until then, there was only one woman I was interested in finding. Daphne Moore.