Bidding War Read online

  The applause was thunderous.

  In a daze, I stepped past Sam and descended the stairs. I walked up to Moira and hugged her. "You're crazy," I said into her ear. "Please tell me you aren't expecting sex."

  "I am expecting a nice time," she said. "It's for charity. I won't abuse your trust. I'll call you to set up our first date."

  Then I stepped to Gwendolyn and hugged her as well. "Were you as terrified as you looked?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  She hugged me a little tighter. "You are wondering if I expect to bed you."

  "Yes."

  "I will treat you very well, you will do your best to have a nice time, and you will offer to me no more than you are willing. I have no expectations beyond that."

  Then she released me but took my arm.

  Sam was thanking everyone, and when she was done, she turned the microphone to Suzanne. Suzanne thanked everyone as well, said the silent auction would be open for another hour, and invited us next door to eat.

  I felt better about everything, but I still was upset with Sam, Suzanne and Bonnie. I'd get over it. Or so I hoped, anyway.

  I glanced over at Gwendolyn. She was smiling at me. I judged her to be upper thirties. She had a firm grip, but when I looked at her hands, they were delicate. I took one. "Surgeon's hands?"

  "Vascular surgeon," she said.

  "I'm impressed," I told her. She shrugged.

  She took my arm again and led me into the next room. Two long tables were reserved for the bachelors and bid winners. Dinner was buffet style with two separate sets of tables set up for the buffet. Gwendolyn and I were ushered towards one set of tables, and when I looked, Moira had been assigned an escort for the evening. I was happy to see she wasn't being neglected.

  "Gwendolyn," I said. "I have no idea how I am to behave tonight. Or on our dates. Am I expected to wait on you tonight? You're paying so much money. Is that part of it?"

  "No," she said. She paused. "I can see how you might be unsure. Perhaps you should behave like you would on a date with a gentleman. If you can be relaxed, it would make me happy." Then she smiled. "Will it frighten you if I flirt?"

  I thought about how to respond. Her smile began to fade.

  "Wait," I said. "I wanted to find the right words. The simple answer is no, flirting won't frighten me, and I will return it. There is probably a long answer, but I am not sure what it is."

  At that point, I was saved any further thought, as we had reached the food. Gwendolyn stepped in front of me and handed me a plate before taking one for herself. Then as we moved down the line of tables, she dished onto my plate the tidbits I asked for. No man had ever treated me that way, and I decided I liked it. We reached the end, and I followed her to a place at one of the two head tables.

  We both sat down with Gwendolyn holding my chair for me before seating herself. A waiter came by offering wine. I whispered to Gwendolyn, "Red would be lovely," and she procured two glasses for us.

  Then I stared at her. She caught me staring. "Did I do something wrong?"

  "No. You did something right. You're treating me better than I've ever been treated on a date."

  She smiled broadly. "Good. Do you enjoy it?"

  "Yes. Thank you."

  We spent the next minute or two eating our salads, looking over at each other periodically. "Gwendolyn," I said. "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Are you being coy?"

  "Why am I being coy?" she asked, grinning.

  I sighed. "Why did you just offer a very large amount of money for a few dates with me? I imagine any of the other women would have been far more fun. Bonnie, for instance, is at least as attractive as I am, and probably knows how to behave."

  She took a sip of her wine before answering with a smile. "First, I came with the intention of donating to the charity. I greatly prefer doing my donations through the local LGBT group this way, as I believe it gives our community good press it desperately needs."

  "And you're a surgeon, so this much money probably means a lot less to you than to me. But you still would have had more fun with Bonnie."

  She smiled. "First, at least the way you are dressed, you represent my type far more than Bonnie does. Pamela, you are absolutely stunning."

  "Thank you." I paused. "This is my only gown of this nature. And my mother paid for it as her way of donating to Wishes For Kids. Otherwise I would have been in the runner up gown. The closest I have after this is an LBD."

  "Perhaps for one of our dates, we will do something sufficiently formal you can wear this gown again." I nodded. "But I haven't answered your question completely," she said. "If I were to ask you out in a more normal fashion, what would your response have been?"

  "I would tell you I was straight."

  "Right. So this is the only way I could get you to go out with me."

  "But-"

  "I know. Wait." She paused. "I have a hectic schedule, so it would be wrong to say I date a lot. But in my way, I date a lot. I've dated Bonnie. I don't need to make a large donation to charity to go out with her. And there are a lot of gay women who are happy to be my date. You, however, are unique. That makes you a prize."

  "Dating a straight girl is going to be just as awkward for you as it will be for me." I looked around. The other bachelors and bachelorettes were all focused on their new dates, and I saw a lot of flirting. Bonnie was practically hanging on her date, who seemed exceedingly happy with the attention. "Everyone else is touching their dates. You're not touching me because you're afraid it will frighten me. Don't you feel cheated?"

  "No, I don't." She paused. "Would it frighten you if I touched you?"

  "It would depend upon the touch." Gwendolyn was sitting to my left, and my left hand was in my lap. I raised it and brushed the skin of her arm briefly with the back of a finger.

  She smiled. "You're being a very good scout for having been set up this way."

  I looked away for a minute.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have reminded you."

  I drank a little of my wine then looked back at her and smiled. "I'm still angry at Sam. I'm more angry with Bonnie and somewhat unhappy with Suzanne. They should have told me. But I've calmed down about it."

  "I thought you forgave her while on stage."

  "She was crying. It broke my heart. I forgave her enough that I won't let it destroy the friendship, but when I figured everything out, that's what I thought had happened. I thought she put this event in front of our friendship. I still feel that way. I honestly don't know how to get past that."

  It was Gwendolyn's chance to turn away. I reached over with my hand and clutched her arm. "Hey," I said quietly. "I am happy to be here with you."

  "You don't want to be here," she said, turning back. "And then we made you accept not one date, but six."

  "First, I could have said no," I told her.

  "If you had any heart at all, you had to say 'yes'," she said. "The donations were too high. Moira and I are no better than your friends."

  "Gwendolyn, please do not go down this path." I paused. "Are you planning anything nefarious with me?"

  "Of course not," she said.

  "I am happy to be here with you," I said again. "I am looking forward to our dates. I am deeply curious where you will take me. I am equally curious how you will treat me. I am scared I won't measure up, or that you expect more than I can offer."

  She looked down at me. "When you figured out what was going on, why did you stay? I think I would have been very angry myself."

  "I was going to leave, right after screaming at Sam. I felt deeply betrayed." I thought about it. "I still do. But Bernard slowed me down and asked the right questions."

  "Like what?"

  "How bad could it be? I'd have a nice time, if perhaps somewhat awkward. That was the big question. He also asked what would I have been willing to do to help out Sam."

  "But you're still angry."

  "Yes, but I'll get past it. I'll get past it faster if
Sam grovels sufficiently. If she doesn't, I imagine this will put a permanent strain in our relationship. I feel like she used me to get out of a problem, and she was dishonest about it. That makes me very sad." I paused. "It would have been difficult, but the three of them could have talked me into this honestly." I paused again. "I could have stormed out. I don't know what that would have done to the event tonight. I was given to believe that people would have felt cheated being short one bachelorette."

  "No one would have demanded her ticket price back," Gwendolyn said. "I think people would have been disappointed. It wouldn't have been the end of the world." She paused. "Sam probably wouldn't be invited to help in the future. She may not anyway. Tricking you was poorly done."

  We ate quietly for a minute. I finished as much as I wanted and sipped more of my wine.

  Our body language was such it was clear we both felt awkward. My touching her arm hadn't been enough. "If I flirt with you, will it frighten you?" I asked.

  She laughed, looking at me. "No."

  "Good." Then I laid my head on her shoulder. If I was going to do this, then I was going to do it properly, which meant making sure she had a nice time. Within reason.

  She stiffened for a moment, then she relaxed and slid her arm around me so her fingers were touching my back through the laces of my gown.

  We sat quietly like that for a minute or two before I lifted my head. I felt I'd gotten my message across. I looked up at Gwendolyn. "So, all better?"

  She smiled. "What do you do for a living?"

  I sighed. "I work in a bank. I have an MBA in finance, and I work as a loan officer in a bank."

  "Why the sigh?"

  "I had higher hopes. They ran smack dab into the brick wall that is the current economy."

  "You don't like working at the bank?"

  "It's okay," I said. "But it doesn't exactly have the sort of potential that a proper corporate finance job would have. My MBA was a complete waste, at least so far. I am still looking for finance positions, but I think I'm going to be stuck at the bank for the rest of my life."

  "I imagine that's frustrating," she said.

  "You clearly worked very hard to get where you are," I told her. "I'd be happy to work just as hard, but it seems pointless right now." I paused. "I'm sorry, I'm coming across as very negative, but that's not really me. Please, tell me about being a vascular surgeon."

  She smiled. "You were right. It was a lot of work." She paused. "It takes a very long time, and residency is hell. I don't understand that aspect of our medical system. Who thinks they want surgeons working twenty-four hour shifts? I know the last person I want approaching me with sharp instruments is someone suffering from sleep deprivation."

  "Do you like being a surgeon?"

  "There's an occupational hazard," she explained. "It's easy to feel we're gods. I fight that, but it can be very difficult. Every time I open someone up, it's a head rush. I absolutely love surgery. I can't imagine doing something else."

  "Do you save a lot of lives?"

  She paused. "It depends upon what you mean by save. Clients often become clients for life. The things we do extend their lives. But once someone has the sort of problems that requires my expertise, they are probably going to need me again in the future."

  "Is it like what you see on TV?"

  "Sometimes," she said, laughing. "But not usually."

  "It sounds fascinating."

  "It's a lot of long days," she said. "That is getting better. I actually am starting to have time to enjoy myself more often. I find I don't have a clue how."

  I laughed lightly but could tell she was serious. "So you don't know what you like to do?"

  "No. For so long, all I was focused on was my career. Now that I am established and could do other things with my life, I don't know what I want to do with it."

  I thought about it. "Do you know where you're going to take me?"

  "Well, I thought," she said. She paused. "Dinner?"

  "That's a good start," I said. "Then what?"

  "I don't know," she admitted.

  "Do you dance?"

  "Not well. But dinner and dancing might be nice."

  I looked at her. "You don't sound convinced." I paused. "What do you normally do with your dates?"

  "Buy them a drink then take them back to my apartment."

  I gulped. "Oh."

  "We could go to a play at the Guthrie."

  "Do you enjoy live theater?" I asked her.

  "Do you?" she countered.

  "It depends upon the show." I paused. "Other than taking me to your apartment, what do you really want to do?"

  She looked away. I reached over and grabbed her chin, pulling her back to face me. "I don't need anything fancy to enjoy myself, Gwendolyn." I paused.

  "I don't want you to be bored," she said. "And I don't have much to talk about except work."

  "Would you like me to plan the dates?" I asked her. "I know exactly what I'd like to do."

  "What?"

  "Dinner and dancing."

  She looked away again. I pulled her back to me. "You don't like to dance?"

  "I'm not very good."

  "So?"

  She stared into my eyes. "I am a surgeon."

  "Yes?"

  "A very good surgeon."

  "You don't like doing something you're not good at?"

  "I want you to be impressed."

  "So you want to take me to things neither of us will really enjoy in an attempt to convince me you enjoy art forms you don't really care that much about?"

  I let her look away that time.

  "Would you have fun dancing with me? If not, I'll come up with other ideas."

  "Of course I would," she said. "But-"

  "But what? You're a vascular surgeon. You just paid a very large amount of money for three dates with me. Do you realize how many months I would have to work to earn that much money? Other than my retirement fund, which is doing okay, my bank accounts have about two thousand dollars total. I won't be impressed if you start throwing money around. I'll just feel inadequate. Is that what you want?"

  She turned back to me. "Of course not."

  "So, dinner and dancing." I paused. "When is the last time you've been to the north shore of Lake Superior?"

  "I've never been there."

  "So, a day trip to Gooseberry Falls. If it's nice, we can go hiking. It's a long drive. You'd have to talk to me for hours. Would you enjoy that?"

  "Yes, but I don't know what we'd talk about."

  "We'd find something. Then, hmm." I thought about it. "Dinner at my place. I'll cook. I'll have a variety of entertainment choices for after dinner." I paused. "None of them involve me getting naked though, all right?"

  She smiled. "Those all sound wonderful."

  "Excellent."

  We finished our dinner, then got up. When we roamed into the first room, we discovered there was music being played by a DJ and a few people were dancing. I looked over at Gwendolyn and smiled.

  "Would you care to dance, Pamela?" she asked me.

  "I would love to."

  Making Sam GrovelBy the time Bernard escorted me home, I was exhausted, but I had a nice time. Gwendolyn treated me very well. I could tell she wanted to kiss me good night. I almost let her, but then she shook my hand and turned away. I was actually a little disappointed. How silly.

  I liked her. She was brilliant, of course, and she was more capable of a conversationalist than she thought. I just had to ask the right questions.

  In the car, Bernard asked me if I was still angry with Sam.

  "Yes," I told him. "I can forgive her, after a fashion, but this has caused a rift, and that hurts quite a lot."

  "You seemed to be having a nice time with Gwendolyn," he pointed out.

  "Yes," I admitted. "But I was still tricked and feel deeply betrayed. She had plenty of opportunity to tell me. I don't understand why she would let me find out that way." I paused. "I don't know how to get past that. I don't k
now how this isn't going to damage our friendship."

  He didn't have anything else to say about it. "You were very elegant tonight," he said instead. "And you set a record."

  "That wasn't me," I said. "That was Moira and Gwendolyn. I still don't understand. Gwendolyn tried to explain, but her explanation doesn't make sense."

  "Well, you are being gracious."

  I inclined my head in recognition of the praise.

  "I have a hard time believing neither of them is expecting sex, for the amount they are paying."

  "They might be hoping. That's not the same as expecting."

  "I'm going to disappoint them. I feel badly about that. I'll do my best, but I'm sure they're both going to be disappointed." Then I told him about my dates with Gwendolyn. "Should I have come up with better ideas?"

  "No," he said, smiling. "Those are actually nice. You're really going to cook for her?"

  "Yes. Is that a secret signal I should know about?"

  He laughed. "No. Unless she starts talking about toaster ovens."

  "Oh, I've already heard about that one," I said. "Convert a straight girl to gay and the lesbian headquarters sends you a toaster oven." I laughed. "So silly."

  We arrived home with the conversation remaining light. Bernard walked me to the front door and waited for me to unlock it. We hugged and I kissed him on the cheek before he saw me into the house.

  "Thank you, Bernard. You were great tonight."

  "You're welcome, Pamela. Thank you for helping make our event such a success." He paused. "I know it was difficult. Try to forgive your friends."

  "I'm trying, but there is a rift." I sighed. "Good night."

  I closed the door behind him and leaned against it. My home was small: three bedrooms, one and a half baths in a first ring suburb. My parents had helped with the purchase like they'd helped with so much else in my life. I could barely afford the payments, but it was home. I kept no animals, but I loved house plants.

  I set my small purse down and walked into the bedroom. I carefully slithered out of the gown and hung it up in the closet, then removed the rest of the clothing before slipping on a boring pair of undies and a bathrobe. I moved to the bathroom and began removing makeup.

  That's when I heard my front door open. I hadn't locked it.