The Date Auction (8 page)

The waiter returned with their food: Jamie's sweet and sour chicken and Eva's cashew chicken. As she watched him struggle with his chopsticks, Eva had to laugh. “You can use a fork, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to impress you with my skills with a chopstick.” It was a joke, of course. He could barely hold them without dropping them. “I wanted to look worldly.”

“I think I'm more depressed than impressed.” Eva exaggerated a pout. “I feel guilty eating my food while poor Jamie's sticks keep slipping out of his hands.”

“Oh, to hell with this.” He tossed the chopsticks aside and traded them for a fork. “I don't think I'll ever learn how to do that properly.”

Between bites, Eva asked, “So... I won't be paying for
this
date, will I? Our last date was a bit expensive, to say the least.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about that. I hope you have a couple thousand dollars saved, because the date auction group will be contacting you shortly. There was a clause about second dates costing an arm and a leg.”

“You better be joking.”

“Yeah, it was a joke. And a bad one, at that.” Jamie turned to the window and pointed, directing her attention to the droplets of rain that were sliding down the glass. “By the way, have you noticed the rain?”

“Oh no. I actually
hadn't
noticed that.”

“Is it too much to hope you brought an umbrella?”

“Nope. No umbrella.” Eva looked down at her food, which was already halfway consumed. “Maybe the rain will let up by the time we finish our food?”

Except it didn't let up by the time they finished their food. In fact, the downpour had intensified. After paying for their food, Eva and Jamie stood by the door for a few minutes, trying to decide if they should brave the rain. They wanted to wait until the rain had passed, but their mustached waiter kept staring at them, and he didn't look happy. He wanted them to leave, and because he looked like the sort of man who might be secretly adept at karate, Jamie and Eva ended up slipping through the door and into the barrage of rain. They didn't have to go very far before the downpour had them soaked. It was as if the clouds had burst right over their heads.

“This is crazy!” Eva exclaimed. “I don't think I remember seeing this in the forecast!”

“I never watch the weather!” Jamie tried not to splash any puddles as he walked beside her. “I guess I should.”

When they reached her apartment, Eva turned in his direction. “You should come inside... wait out the rain.”
“I think I'll take you up on that.”

As soon as they were inside, Eva untied her trenchcoat and slung it across a wooden chair. Fortunately, the clothes underneath were not too wet. Jamie, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, which were soaked through and through.

“Oh dear.” Her lips puckered thoughtfully as she stared at him. “I'd offer you a change of clothes, but I don't think I'd have anything that would fit you.”

“It's alright. A little rain won't kill me.”

“Well, I should certainly hope not. I--” When she saw Jamie rip his shirt over his head, her voice trailed off. The sight of his tan, lean body and chiseled six-pack would have impaired any woman's cognitive ability. “I, um...”

“You don't mind if I take off my pants, do you?”

“Uh... no.” Why on earth would she mind!? “I can throw those in the dryer for you, if you'd like.” Eva's throat was tight as she watched him unzip his fly and wriggle out of his pants. Even if she
had
seen him half-naked on billboards, having him half-naked in her living room was a different experience altogether. She wasn't prepared for it.

“Sure.”

Eva's eyes were bulging as she studied him. His gray boxer briefs were slightly damp and clinging to his body. “Here.” When she held out her hand, Jamie tossed his clothes at her. “I'll have them returned to you in a moment.”

“Thanks, Eva.”

“It's not a problem.” As Eva hurried off to do his laundry, she resisted the temptation to stare at him on her way out. She didn't think men had bodies like that in real life.
Was he even real?!

After tossing Jamie's wet clothes in her dryer, Eva went to her bedroom and changed into dry, comfortable clothes. When she returned to Jamie, he was reclining on her couch, his slick abs glistening in the light.

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?”

Jamie smiled and shook his head. “No, I'm alright.”

“Well, you can help yourself to anything in the fridge. I just looked outside, and it's still raining. Do you, um...” When she caught her eyes wandering to the lower half of his body, she had to force herself to look up again. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Okay... good.” Of course, that meant she would have to sit beside him, and how was she supposed to concentrate on a movie when she was sitting next to a god? Eva slid a George Clooney movie into her dvd player before joining Jamie on the couch. She'd had a crush on George Clooney for as long as she could remember, but now that she had been in the presence of an underwear-clad Jamie Thierry, she was destined to find George lacking from that moment onward.

“You're blushing,” Jamie pointed out.

“No I'm not. Please.” Eva gave him a playful slap on the arm. “I'm not capable of blushing, I'm just... flustered. Because of the rain.”

“Are you sure it's the rain that got you flustered?”

“I'm
sure
,” she insisted. “Now... be quiet.”

The George Clooney drama had begun, and she was right: Jamie
was
a distraction. His bare, perfect chest was the only thing she could think about. She tried to close her right eye so she wouldn't have to see Jamie sitting next to her. Who ever thought peripheral vision was a good idea?

Staring at George's face, she was reminded of Greta's words:
Don't worry about dating someone who's younger than you. Men do it all the time.
It was true, wasn't it? Why should she feel ashamed of Jamie Thierry when every George Clooney girlfriend in the last decade was twenty years younger than him? In fact, George seemed to deposit his girlfriends as soon as they reached the ripe old age of thirty-five.

Maybe this will be the last time Jamie comes around?
Eva's thoughts were whispering in her head, drowning out the movie's dialogue.
Maybe you won't have to worry about him after today?

But wouldn't she be sad if he
didn't
come around again? To be denied the pleasure of his handsome face was a devastating thought.

When the credits were rolling, Jamie confessed, “I almost fell asleep.”

“Oh.”

“Not because the movie was bad, but because I was getting tired.” As he spoke, his lips were stretched by a yawn. “I didn't sleep well last night.”

“Aww. Why not?”

“I was thinking about you, actually. I was wondering if I should come to see you. I'm glad I did.”

“Surely you didn't put too much thought into that.” He didn't seem like the sort of man who would put too much thought into anything.

“I did! I was worried. I was afraid you'd decline a date with me.”

“Really? Why?!” Eva rose from the couch and went to the window, putting a bit of distance between them. Being close to him was too stifling. “I would have to be stupid to decline a date with you.”

“I was afraid you didn't like me.”

“Of course I like you. And it's still raining, by the way.”

“Think it's ever going to let up?”

“Not in the foreseeable future. Oh... I should get your clothes.” Eva rushed off to retrieve them as quickly as she could.

When she returned with his t-shirt and jeans, he said, “Halfway through the movie, I was wondering why you hadn't gotten my clothes out of the dryer. I assumed it was because you liked my naked body.”

Even though it was true, she retorted, “Har har. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“I think I'd like the sight of
your
naked body better.”

Eva tossed his clothes at him and crossed her arms. “You better behave yourself, Jamie. I was going to ask you to spend the night, but I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Is it the wrong idea? That's a shame.” Jamie sighed.

“You can spend the night here, if you'd like, and sleep on the couch,” Eva continued. “I can get you a blanket and a pillow. Now that your clothes are dry, it would be a shame to send you off in the rain.”

“I couldn't agree with you more.” Jamie tossed his clothes on the floor and laid across the couch. Still half-naked. “Will you tuck me in?”

“Sure, little boy,” Eva snickered. She grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, tossed it over his body, and tucked the excess material under his legs. Sliding a pillow under his head, she asked, “Are you comfy?”

“A kiss would be nice.”

So she kissed his forehead. “Anything else? I'll have you know, I draw the line at wiping your butt.”

Jamie chuckled at her quick retort. “Thanks for letting me stay here, Eva.”

“No problem.” She stepped back and stared at him, as if to admire her work. “Seriously, though, is there anything else I can get for you before I go?”

“Nope.”

“The bathroom's right over there, if you need it.” She pointed to an adjacent door. “So, um... goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said again, then hurried to her bedroom as quickly as she could. As she collapsed on her bed, Eva heaved a sigh. It was hard to believe such a gorgeous creature was lying half-naked in the next room. Only a handful of women would ever be so lucky.

One thing was for certain: now
she
wouldn't be getting any sleep.

Chapter Eight

Cora sat in front of her computer for several seconds, staring at her Harry Shaw folder. There were over two hundred pictures in that folder, divided into six different sub-categories, including: Candid Photos, Magazine Scans and Professional Photos. There was even a folder for Harry's Twitter pics. He had joined Twitter a little over a month ago, at which time Cora had become his ardent Twitter follower. He had uploaded three pictures of himself, and she had right clicked + saved them all.

Back then, she never would have imagined she would actually go on a date with him, let alone, have his phone number listed in her “Contacts.” She picked up her cell phone and heaved a long, high-pitched sigh. She wanted to call him, but she didn't know if he would be happy to hear from her. Her gut told her he wouldn't be.

“You're acting insane, Cora,” she chided herself. “If he knew how much time you spent thinking about him, he wouldn't be able to get away from you fast enough.”

She had already changed her computer's backdrop. Her computer's wallpaper used to be a picture of Harry in a white button-down shirt, except the buttons had been left unbuttoned, much to her delight. Half-shirtless Harry had been replaced by an innocent waterfall. Now that she knew him in real life, it felt awkward to stare at his bare chest on her laptop. Not to mention, staring at a hot actor all day hardly seemed like an appropriate thing for a twenty-eight-year-old to do.

Cora logged on to Facebook and started to send a message to her friend Mandy Houston, who happened to love Harry Shaw as much as Cora did. Mandy and Cora's acquaintance was limited to brief chats via the internet, but she was the only person who could possibly relate to Cora's excitement. Someone needed to know about her date with Harry Shaw. She typed a 200-word message to Mandy, but she ended up deleting the whole thing before hitting “send.” She didn't think Mandy would believe her story anyway.

Cora shut down her computer and went to watch a movie—one with Harry, of course. It was the latest BBC adaptation of Jane Austen's
Sense & Sensibility
, in which Harry Shaw played the dastardly John Willoughby. The sight of him in period clothes reminded her why she liked him so much. He was perfection from head to toe.

To anyone else, Cora knew she would look obsessed. She didn't care. Being a fan of Harry Shaw had gotten her through some tough times, particularly her father's death. When he died two years ago, her love for Harry had been her solace, her only comfort. His movies were the only thing that made her forget her pain, if only for a little while.

When
Sense and Sensibility
was over, Cora reached for her phone, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. She was on the verge of calling his number when she changed her mind. It felt wrong to bother him. It wasn't as if he would actually want to hear from her—she knew that. But it was hard to resist the temptation to force her way into his life.

With her phone in her hand, Cora rose from the couch and crossed the room. She stood in front of her full-length mirror and frowned. The longer she stared at herself, the more she realized she was no match for a beautiful man like Harry Shaw. Her strawberry blonde hair had been pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was wearing an XL polo shirt from the men's department, which was quite baggy on her. That was more than she could say for XL shirts from the woman's department, which seemed to be a perfect fit. She was chubby, of course, but she didn't think she was entirely hopeless. Apart from her slight double chin and plain brown eyes, she actually liked her face.

But she wasn't in the same league as Harry Shaw, and it was obvious.

“Cora, Cora, Cora...” She shook her head at her reflection. “You spend way too much time thinking about him. You need to get a life.”

She needed a life, and she needed some balls. Before she could change her mind, she turned her attention back to her phone and called him.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Her stomach was clenching as she waited to hear his voice.

“
Hello
?”

“Um... hi...” Her free hand was trembling, so she stuffed it in her pocket. “It's Cora.”

“
Oh. Hi
.” He didn't sound particularly amused, nor did he pretend to be happy to hear from her again.

“I was just wondering...” she hesitated. “Would you want to go out for coffee sometime or... or something like that?”