good, because I certainly had plenty of other things. Like Maddie.
It was her turn next. She walked out, face grim and set for battle. She looked both terrified and terrifying. In spite of that hard countenance, I still saw a few interested faces in the audience.
"Smile, smile," I muttered to no one in particular.
"Maddie Sato," said Nick cheerily. "You write magazine articles. Anything I'd know?"
"Probably not," she said, still wearing that grimace. "Not unless you read feminist publications."
"Feminist," he said, clearly amused. "Next you'll be telling us you hate men."
She gave him a blank look. "I only hate stupid men who don't actually understand what 'feminist' means."
He laughed. "You run into a lot of men like that?"
"All the time."
"Really?"
"Even as we speak, Nick."
"Oh no she didn't," said Peter. I groaned.
It took Nick a full ten seconds to realize he had just been insulted. Then, for the first time that night, he stopped smiling. Turning to the crowd, he said flatly, "Okay, let's start the bidding at fifty."
Silence met him. The interested faces no longer looked so interested. I swallowed a scream. No, this couldn't be happening. I'd promised her a date. This would destroy her. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard a voice in the back of the room.
"Fifty."
Relieved, I craned my head and looked. The guy who had bid was about fifty years old and looked exactly like this pedophile I'd once seen on a news special.
"Fifty," said Nick. "Do I hear seventy-five?"
Silence. I turned to Seth.
"Do something!" I hissed.
He flinched. "What?"
"Going once..."
I elbowed him, and his hand shot up. "Seventy-five."
There was a collective "ooh' in the room. Apparently no one, including Maddie, had expected a bidding war for the belligerent man-hater. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"One hundred," said the pedophile look-alike.
Then, either to end this quickly or because he felt sorry for Maddie, Seth said, "Three hundred."
More sounds of astonishment followed. The other bidder couldn't compete; he must have spent all his money on bail.
"Sold to the gentleman in the Welcome Back, Kotter T-shirt."
"Nice," said Cody, as Maddie exited the stage.
I reached out and squeezed Seth's hand. "Thank you."
He gave me his half-smile. "Anything for the kids."
Nick flipped to his next card. "And now we have...Georgina Kincaid."
My head shot up. Across the room, I saw Hugh's smirking face.
"Oh no he didn't," I said through gritted teeth.
Nick, puzzled, glanced toward where the other auctionees were. "Georgina Kincaid?"
"No avoiding it," Peter told me. "Might as well go up there. Otherwise people'll think you hate kids."
"That joke is getting old," I hissed.
Vowing to slap Hugh later, I reluctantly rose from my chair. Upon seeing me, Nick turned on the supernova smile. "Ah, there she is. Fashionably late."
On the subject of fashion, I wished I'd worn something as nice as Maddie's dress. I might have just gotten tricked into this thing, but now I wished I could do it right. I still looked good; my normal sense of aesthetics would allow for nothing less. I had on a black skirt and a purple cashmere sweater, my hair in a ponytail. In tiny increments - too slow and small for anyone to notice - I tightened the sweater around my figure and made the neckline bigger. I put a saunter into my hips and pulled out my ponytail tie, shaking out my hair. It had worked for Maddie and countless nerdy movie girls. It would work for me because I suddenly had a serious issue at stake here.
There was no way on God's green earth that I was going for less than Tawny.
"Georgina," said Nick, helping me onto the stage. "My notes say you prefer Georgie." Yeah, Hugh was definitely getting slapped. "And that you run a bookstore."
If I'd taken a victim recently and had succubus glamour on me, I wouldn't have to do a single thing except stand there. I wouldn't even have to smile. Now I'd have to work a little. Quickly, I assessed this crowd. The kinds of guys who came to events like this tended to be white-collar professionals with disposable income. Some would be here simply because philanthropy was trendy and good for the image, and this was a stylish way to do it. Others, while perhaps not desperate, were nonetheless intellects and introverts who found this a good opportunity to meet women. These men all wanted smart, competent women - women who were also pretty, of course. And wit...wit always went over well.
I gave Nick, then the audience, a heart-stopping smile. "That's right. I organize