“Come on out here, Xander, baby. Don’t be shy…”
One of the volunteers pulled the curtain open for me and I sauntered through, as casually as I could. I wasn’t gonna strut around like a peacock and I was no model. I just walked out into the center of the stage and stuck my hands in the pockets of my stupidly expensive new dress pants, because I wasn’t sure what else to do with them.
The lights stung my eyes for a moment, but I heard the crowd’s reaction. Whistles. Screams. Catcalls—from both women and men.
I chuckled a little, nervously. I’d been onstage a million times. But never like this.
I was pretty sure I blushed for the first time in my adult life.
“And there he is.” The MC sucked back a noisy breath and blew it out again into the mic. I glanced over and saw a curvy dude in a hot-pink sequined dress and big black wig. “Oh, my. Will you just take a look at that for a minute. Mm-mm-mmmmmm. Doesn’thelook pretty in pink.”
Laughter. Applause. More whistles.
Yup. This was embarrassing.
I’d worn a pink button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and I was pretty sure the whole room could see my nipples poking through it. I’d always looked weirdly good in pink, and it was tight. Jo picked it out, and she told me to leave it unbuttoned low and roll up the sleeves so the rich ladies could see my tattoos.
Now I felt weirdly like a whore show dog.
On the dance floor in front of the stage, the guests who’d purchased tables were all clapping and smiling at me. There was Trey, sitting at one of them. I didn’t recognize most of the people in front, but I did recognize a lot of faces farther back.
And at a table tucked off to the right side, second row, I could see Brody and his wife, Jessa. I looked around their table; they were sitting with Ashley and Danica, Elle, Summer… and right next to Summer, there was fucking Courteney.
The smile fell off my face.
She was wearing that damn white dress she wore the night I took her virginity. With way too much cleavage.
“Sweetie? Xander, hon.” The MC’s voice jolted me back. He—shewas talking and I didn’t hear what she’d said. “Can you just do a little spin for us? Turn around, baby.”
I tried to squeeze out a smile, and turned in a slow circle as the crowd whistled and applauded.
What the fuck was she doing here?
I’d put money on Summer inviting her—or her reaching out to Summer and wrangling herself an invite?
Did no one realize or care that the girl was underage and not supposed to be here?
Apparently not.
As I finished my three-sixty, I tried to keep smiling. I also tried to make eye contact with Trey and somehow tell him telepathically that his little sister’s underage friend was here—and that he needed to kick her ass out. Larissa was sitting with him at his table in front, and when I glared at her, she just smiled at me.
Trey didn’t seem to get the message. He caught my eye but just sat there, grinning up at me as the MC worked the crowd.Shit.Had someone bid on me already?
I should really be paying attention to this.
“… for a rocking night out on the town withthisman, you won’t regret a single penny,” the MC was saying, and every word dripped with innuendo. She circled around me with her wireless mic in hand, checking me out. “Can I see ten—Ah. A generous starting bid from the delectable diva at table seven, for ten-thousand dollars.”
I looked around at the table numbers, which were on big cards in the centers of the tables—and found Jessa holding up her paddle at table seven. My manager’s wife had gotten the bidding started with a pity bid.
So at least if no one else bid on me, I had that.
I nodded my thanks at her and Brody grinned at me. I was pretty fucking sure if his wife won me tonight, he was coming with us on that dinner date.
“Can I get fifteen—Oh! A bid from the lovely lady in the red dress at table three.”
A middle-aged blonde woman in the front row of tables, one of the serious VIP tables, had her paddle up. I smiled at her politely, and she grinned at me. The well-dressed ladies at her table, who were probably all closer to my mom’s age than mine, were all smiling.
“But let’s not stop there,” the MC said. “How about twenty-thousand—Yes! A bid from thefine-ass gentleman at table twelve.”