If The Shoe Fits (Some Girls Do It #8) - May Sage Page 0,11

time to read, he caught up with his favorite thriller and science-fiction authors.

"I can't say I've read any of them, yet, but Cassie's lovely." He'd only seen her once or twice in passing, but she'd seemed lively and charming enough. Besides, there wasn't anything else to say about socialites these days. They were all perfectly lovely. Beautiful, worldly, agreeable to talk to, and positively boring.

"Finally, our hostess and a few of our charming ladies will be auctioning their first dance. I present to you Cassandra Harris."

Speak of the devil. Wrapped in a red dress, the blonde advanced on the dais with all the aplomb of a catwalk model. Someone started to clap, and they all joined politely. Encouraged, Cassie spun on her heels, and grinned, waving her hand.

"We'll start at ten thousand. Ten thousand to Mr. Harris. Do I hear fifteen? Fifteen thousand to Mr. Slade."

Cade glanced at Liam, who grinned. "Don't mind me. I enjoy ruffling Carter's feathers."

He wasn't the only one. Several others bid, higher and higher. In no time, Cassie's first dance was worth two hundred thousand dollars. Undeterred, Slade raised his paddle again.

Carter Harris lifted his, and yelled, "One million!"

The rest of the room erupted in claps, and chuckles. "Aren't you getting it for free, these days?" Liam called back. "Let the rest of us enjoy your wife, for once."

"Only if you're willing to share yours, fucker," Carter shot back.

Liam seemed to find that joke far less funny.

"One million going once. Going twice…"

"One million, one hundred thousand, dammit."

Carter shot Liam the middle finger, but let him win Cassie's dance, to the cheers of the crowd.

Cade was surprised to realize he was enjoying himself more than he would have thought he would tonight. While the usual crowd was certainly as tedious as ever, there were also a few younger businessmen in attendance. He knew most in passing, but Liam had been right: Cade didn't make a habit of socializing if he could help it. They seemed nice enough though.

"Next up, a late entry: our hostess's sister, Helene Franklin."

Cade was certain that the room kept chattering, clapping, or laughing, but he didn't hear a thing or see a thing other than the woman advancing on the platform, as her sister left it. Cassie took her hand in passing and squeezed it. They exchanged a sweet, secretive smile, before Helene joined the auctioneer.

Taller than Cassie, and with soft dark waves rather than a sleek platinum bob, the two women looked nothing alike. Hell, Helene didn't look like anyone else here. Her beauty was unadorned, too natural for the rest of this crowd. She was dressed in a long blue gown that gave a glimpse of her endless leg with each of her steps. There were no diamonds at her throat or ears, and her face wasn't painted in layers of makeup—that he could tell. Cade realized men knew nothing about matters such as make up—but hers, if she had any on, complemented her, rather than turning her into something else. No distraction deterred from her raw beauty.

It took him several moments to realize she was the girl—the one he'd met Monday, the one he'd thought about for most of the week. What were the chances that he'd see her again without purposely seeking her out, and here, of all places?

Cade had to admit, he'd considered returning to Vandorf, Inc. Find some excuse, and ask her out if he bumped into her again. She'd had that much of an impact on him, in one short moment at the elevator. Seeing her now, he was stunned into stillness, incapable of moving, speaking, or thinking.

"One hundred and seventy thousand, to Mr. Thwayn, do I hear one eighty?"

The auction had already started by the time he finally regained some awareness of his surroundings. Numb, he lifted his paddle.

"One hundred and eighty thousand, to Mr. Lawson, do I hear One ninety? One ninety to Ms. Glenn. Two hundred thousand? Two hundred for Mr. Lawson. Do I hear—"

Cade kept raising his arm, his eyes remaining on the woman. Helene Franklin. She looked ahead, far in the distance, not catching anyone's eyes, as if she were too good for the rest of them.

Fuck this.

He might have been too quick to mock Carter, after all.

"One million."

Helene

She was going to faint. Or throw up. Either option struck her as particularly dramatic, but in her opinion, they were appropriate reactions. One million dollars. Some guy wanted to spend one million dollars to dance with her for five minutes. Had