“Good, Roger,” he said with a smile. “Enjoying the party?”
I had no idea who the handsome stranger was, but he had rattled the fat man for some reason. The Russian, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed.
The fat man blinked as if he had something in his eye and said, “Uh, yes, we are.”
“Good, now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to the young lady.” The smiled slowly faded from his lips. He set his eyes on the Russian. “You boys go find someone else to bother.”
“Uh, sure thing, Nicky,” the fat man said, forcing a nervous chuckle. “Good to see you. Dimitri, let’s check out the other girls.”
I couldn’t see the Russian’s face when he was told to go bother someone else, but I noticed his head twitch just a little to the side. He glanced back at me, like a wolf watching a fawn get away, then followed his fat friend to the next girl in line.
“I can never decide who are bigger pricks; lawyers or their Russian clients,” my savior said with a smile, the first one I’d seen all evening that didn’t look as if it had an agenda behind it. He held out one of the champagne glasses to me. “Thirsty?”
“We’re not supposed to drink,” I said. I folded my arms over my breasts, then quickly dropped them to my sides and balled my hands into fists to keep them there. “We’re supposed to be sober for the auction. Even though it would be much easier if we were drunk. At least for me.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he said, pulling his arm back. He gazed into my eyes and let his eyebrows go up. “I’m Nicky D’Angelo. And you are?”
“Katrina,” I said, my cheeks flushing like a school girl being asked to dance by the most handsome boy in class. Even though I was naked and didn’t know him from Adam, I found myself not wanting to cover up in front of him. I wanted him to look at my breasts and my hard nipples and my neatly-trimmed bush and my tight ass and my toned legs. I wanted him to take in every inch of me with his eyes, then explore every inch with his hands and mouth. I felt a moist heat growing between my legs.
“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to talk about,” he said, giving me a playful frown. “I mean, am I supposed to ask you about your hobbies or your favorite movies or how you plan to spend the money or?”
“I’m not sure either,” I said, smiling genuinely for the first time since I’d arrived at the mansion earlier in the day. I glanced around the room and shook my head. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Neither have I,” he said with the champagne glass at his lips. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you doing it now?”
“I need the money for college,” I said. “And to pay off some family debts.”
“Ah, cool, what are you going to study?”
“I want to do cancer research,” I said. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was standing with my hands behind my back, rotating my hips from side to side like a little girl talking about what she wanted to be when she grew up. When I realized what I was doing, I crossed my hands in front of me and told myself to stand still.
“That’s great,” he said, toasting me with the glass. “I have great respect for people like you.”
“What kind of people is that?” I asked. I gazed deeply into his eyes and felt the world around me collapse into darkness. It was as if I had tunnel vision. Even though the room was filled with noise and activity, he was the only thing I could see.
“People who care about other people,” he said with a thoughtful frown. “Nurses, doctors, social workers, teachers... I have great respect for people who do that sort of thing.”
“What do you do?” I asked.
“Not that,” he said flatly. He stared at me for a moment, as if he couldn’t think of anything more to say. Then he cleared his throat and gave me a nod. “Well, good luck, Katrina. It was nice to meet you. I hope you get everything out of life that you deserve.”
“Thanks,” I said, thinking it was an odd thing for him to say given the circumstances. Maybe he was as nervous as I was. “It was nice to meet you, too.”
I wanted to add, “And please buy me. Please, please, please buy me!”
A moment later, the woman running the auction came by to tell me that things were about to start and I should follow her. I carefully stepped off the podium and along with the other eleven girls, followed the woman to the front of the room and lined up side by side. I was number four in line, just like my bio in the brochure.
“Okay, girls,” she said, directing us with her bony hands. “Lose the nighties and line up. The auction is about to begin.”
CHAPTER EIGHT: Nicky
“The fun begins,” Tony said with a devilish glee to his voice. The girls had taken off the transparent nighties and lined up side by side like contestants in a beauty pageant. Some of them were striking sexy poses (or trying to), some looked a little uncomfortable, and Katrina, the gorgeous girl with the pleading smile that I couldn’t take my eyes off of looked like she literally wanted to run screaming. I could tell she was doing her best to hold it together, but she kept bringing her arms up to cover herself then forcing them down, fidgeting from one foot to the other, and tugging at the long blonde hair draped over her left shoulder, as if she thought she could cover herself with it.
I recognized the woman who ran the auction. Her name was Lois Perkins, a former stripper from back in Uncle Gino’s day. She was giving them instructions and talking with her hands, like a quarterback in a huddle.
I sipped a fresh glass of champagne and glanced around the room. There were probably thirty or forty men there now, eyeing the women and grinning like wolves before a slaughter. The big Russian prick and his fat fuck of a lawyer were standing on the other side of the room, eyeing me and whispering. When the Russian caught my eye, he gave me a grin and held up his middle finger.
“Who is that?” I asked Tony, nodding in the Russian’s direction.