The Bachelor Bid

“Someone like you?” he asked as they stepped onto the elevator.

“Hardly.”

“You are going to attend the auction, aren’t you?”

“Sure. But I’ll be there to work, not to bid.”

“You don’t know what you’ll be missing. It’ll be a memorable date. Dinner at Commander’s Palace, a cruise on the Mississippi by moonlight. Sure you don’t want to make an offer?”

“Is this more retaliation—making me spell it out in black and white? For your information I could no more compete in that auction than I could buy out General Motors.”

“Jeez, you’re a sorehead when you’re hungry.” Wyatt took her arm as they reached the ground floor. “Let’s get some lunch.”

“You had lunch.”

“I’ll have dessert.”

“You had that, too. I ordered from Marcel’s, remember?”

“I could squeeze in another one. An extra lap at Town Lake will work it off.”

“Look, I know I should be grateful you’re doing the auction—and I am. But I don’t want to have lunch with you. OK?”

“OK,” he said agreeably. “I’ll give you a reprieve—this time. See you at the auction.”

“You are stunning,” Meg pronounced. It was the night of the auction, and she was fluttering around Cara, admiring her own handiwork. Meg had insisted Cara wear one of the cocktail dresses she’d designed for a recent competition.

Even if her oldest sibling couldn’t afford the valet parking at the hotel, much less a thousand-plus dollars bid on one of the bachelors, she’d easily blend in with the horde of dressed-to-kill women scheduled to attend. “Good advertising for me,” Meg said, but Cara intuited another motive—proving that Big Sis could indeed look like date bait.

The black halter-style bodice bared both Cara’s shoulders and almost all of her spine inasmuch as it plunged to the waist at the back. The gown’s red skirt flared out in tiered ruffles, giving the costume a Spanish look. For a finishing touch Meg pinned her sister’s blond hair up and fashioned a small Spanish fan at the crown.

“There,” Meg said. “Fantastic!”

Cara studied her reflection. “It’s sorta far out, don’t you think? All that’s missing is a rose between my teeth.”

“Get real, Cara. For once you’re showing the world what a real glamour gal you can be. That clotheshorse Brooke will be so jealous.”

“Brooke has other things on her mind. She’ll be too preoccupied with her quarry to pay notice to anyone else.”

“How much moolah do you think she’ll ante up to ensure Wyatt leaves on her arm?”

“Whatever it takes. She will not be denied this opportunity. She’s been lusting after him for eons.”

Meg sat on the side of the bed. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have money enough to buy a fancy date like that?”

“Actually it’d be nice to have money enough for new tires.” Money. It had defined much of their existence the past seven years. “One of these days,” Cara assured Meg, “when you’re a famous designer and I’m a senior executive...maybe I’ll buy myself a man, too. After the new tires, of course.”