Layla bit back a snicker and cleared her throat. “You know, Miss Cora, we can check in after the auction and see if the dog is available to adopt. That’s supposed to be the point of this whole thing—to find homes for stray animals that need some love.”
Cora brightened. “Do you think so, dear? I’ve been saving all month and I’d love a companion.” She fingered her two wrinkled dollars that she kept bidding over and over again.
Layla’s heart broke a little. Was that all that Cora had as her savings or was this just more of her confusion? Or her trolling? Either way, she vowed that she would make sure that Cora had a dog in her arms by the time she left, even if Layla had to pay for it. She glanced over at Amy, but Amy was chewing on her lip, writing numbers down on a napkin and desperately trying to do the math as the next bachelor came out onstage. Layla had done the numbers in her head, and they were still close to three thousand dollars short of the goal. That had to be disappointing for her friends, who’d worked so hard to pull this together. There were still two bachelors left, with the second to last being bid on right now. He had a pit bull puppy in his arms and his girlfriend was bidding on him . . . but it wouldn’t be enough money. Even if Layla bought the last bachelor due to lack of bids (which didn’t look as if it’d be the case given how the other auctions had gone), it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe Layla could do some research, look up some tax incentives for the city that might make up the difference—
Amy grabbed her arm as the bidding continued. “Don’t look now,” she hissed. “But your mother is here.”
Every bit of Layla went cold. Janet Schmidt was here? At the auction? This day was going from bad to much, much worse. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“She’s near the door. Looking for you.” Amy patted her arm. “I’d tell you to hide in the bathroom but we both know she’d probably find you.”
She would. Janet had been known to peek under stall doors looking for Layla in the past. “She thinks I’m here to bid on a boyfriend,” Layla whispered as her mother caught sight of her and waved.
“Lucky for you Jack is up next,” Amy said, patting her hand.
Oh lord. And all the “bachelors” so far were more Janet’s age than Layla’s. Her mother would sense a plot for sure, and then she’d get bombarded with all kinds of nagging and guilt and her weekend would be ruined. Layla glanced over and Janet raised a hand, waving.
“Are you bidding, ma’am?” Sage asked from the podium.
“I’m just here to see my daughter. She’s going to bid on a man,” Janet called out loudly, trotting over to Layla’s table in ridiculously high heels.
Cringe. Cringe twice. Layla kept smiling even though the urge to flee was running rampant through her system. Why did Janet always do this to her? Janet was the mom that showed up in the low-cut bandage dress at Layla’s school dances. She was the mom that flirted with the teachers. The mom that always made sure the attention was on Janet and not Layla.
Of course she’d show up to a bachelor auction to try and nose in and see what her daughter was up to. Part of it was Janet being an overbearing mom. Part of it was Janet being bored. And part of it was Janet wanting a slice of the action. Her mom would absolutely not be above flirting with a guy that Layla was interested in. She’d done it in the past. Was it shitty? Yes. Was it something Layla expected at this point? Also yes.
So she shouldn’t have been surprised to see her mother. Yet somehow, Layla always was. She always expected Janet to be a bit more . . . mom-like. Never happened.
“There you are,” Janet cooed. She thumped into the empty chair next to Layla and set her Chanel bag on the table, blocking Layla’s view of Cora entirely. “How goes the bachelor hunting, Layla-belle?”
“It’s just fine, Mom. What are you doing here?” God, even her tone sounded sulky and petulant, like she was fourteen again.
Janet licked her thumb and tsked, reaching forward and smoothing a flyaway hair at Layla’s temples. “Honey, did you even fix your hair this morning? I