Manhattan, New York
March
“Oh, my God. Look at that dress.”
“Girl. I’m looking at the jewels.”
“Ugh. If only we had the Sheridan money we could buy whatever we wanted.”
“I hear the stores come to her. She doesn’t even shop on her own.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. It went against everything she’d been taught not to show in New York society, but sometimes the only thing to do when hearing others talk about you was to give an eye roll—even if it was just to herself.
Those two women were right. Wealth did have its privileges. Every American designer wanted Alex to wear their things, she was able to give a shitload of money to charities, and she was invited to all the parties.
The downside of being wealthy was that she was invited to all the parties. Not to mention the list of charity galas and other such events she was expected to attend.
Alex had never known anything other than the Sheridan fortune, which was probably why her mother used to give one of her famous eye rolls every time Alex would say she wished for a quiet life in the country somewhere.
“If only,” Alex murmured.
But her destiny lay elsewhere. She was the sole remaining member of the Sheridan dynasty. She lived alone in a huge penthouse while overseeing the ridiculous fortune made by her great-great-great grandfather when he came over from Ireland.
She moved to the back of the stage and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. After last year’s disaster, she’d sworn never to do the auction again. But what was she about to do?
Put herself back up on that stage while smiling and flirting to get the bids higher. All in the name of charity.
Her cousin had died in some remote part of the world she couldn’t pronounce defending their country. So, no matter how degrading it felt, or how horrible the “date” was, she would never turn down the Wounded Warrior charity for veterans. Especially since she sat on the Board of Directors.
“It’s time, Alex.”
She turned at the sound of her assistant’s voice. Meg had been with her for three glorious years. It was Meg who kept her sane—as well as keeping her on a schedule that didn’t run Alex into the ground.
She smiled into Meg’s black eyes as she leaned close and grinned. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you when you walked away earlier, but the bartender totally checked out your ass. I told you that you seriously rock it in that fuchsia dress with your dark skin. You look like a goddess.”
Meg shifted and covertly glanced toward the bartender, who was even now eying her. “Then I suppose I should tell you that he asked me out when I was getting you a drink.”
“I’ve got one,” Alex said.
Meg gave her a flat look. “Of course. But I was giving studly a chance to ask me out.”
“Of course you were.”
They shared a laugh.
Alex knew it was dangerous to become friends with someone she employed, but the truth was, Meg was her only friend. Alex had learned at a very young age that people only wanted to be her friend in order to get something from her. Whether it be station, items, or money—everyone had a reason for wanting to be with her.
Consequently, she had trust issues. It also didn’t help that the few times she had attempted to trust someone, it had ended with them using her in one fashion or another. Frankly, she was tired of it.
While others coveted her wealth, Alex was jealous of their relationships, of the way they could walk along the street without paparazzi following their every move.
Which left her Meg. They had hit it off instantly. But even then, Alex tried to stay as detached as she could. Just in case.
She followed Meg to the stairs that led to the stage. No matter how many speeches she gave, she always got nervous anytime she had to stand in front of a group of people.
Because everyone was picking her apart. From her hair, makeup, jewelry, and nails to the way she stood, if it looked as if she’d gained weight, and every word she said.
Was it any wonder that between her social engagements she disappeared for weeks at a time to try and forget the spotlight that was always on her?
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!”
Alex looked up as the emcee for the event came on stage. She didn’t know the news anchor, Lori Duval, personally, but she’d suggested a female host this year, and it had been approved by the rest of the Board. By the sound of the applause, everyone else seemed pleased by the change as well.
“I’m very excited to be here,” Lori said as the overhead lights made the rhinestones in her dress glitter. “My grandfather, father, two brothers, and five cousins have or are serving this fine country of ours. I’ve long been a donor to this amazing charity. You all know the drill,” she replied with a bright smile. “Every penny earned here goes straight into the Wounded Warrior project. If there was one night for you to open those pocketbooks, it’s tonight. Now, why don’t we get this party started?”
The crowd laughed, but all Alex wanted to do was turn and run. Her stomach clutched painfully and her blood had turned to ice.
Meg physically removed the champagne flute from her fingers before Alex snapped it in two. Sadly, it had happened before.
“Breathe,” Meg urged.
Alex inhaled deeply, but before she could let it out, Lori said her name.
With no other choice, Alex placed her hand on the railing and walked up the steps on wooden legs. Her greatest fear was that she would trip and fall during one of these events.
People might talk, but she was used to that. She didn’t want them laughing at her - at least not for something as stupid as falling.
Before she knew it, she was standing next to Lori. The news anchor was talking, but Alex didn’t hear any of it. She faced the crowd and smiled. There were several whistles, which caused laughter to erupt around the room.
“Wow,” Lori said as she looked at Alex. “I guess we should’ve known that would happen. Everyone wants to date Alexandra Sheridan. Even me.”
Alex smiled and winked at Lori. Years of being in the spotlight kicked in, and she leaned into the microphone. “I go to the top bidder. If you want a chance, you know what you need to do.”
Lori acted like she was looking around for her purse. Then she said to the crowd, “You heard her, ladies and gents. Who is going to start this auction off for a date with New York’s most eligible bachelorette, Alexandra Sheridan?”
“Five thousand,” a man shouted from the back.
Alex kept a smile on her face, clapping with the others each time the amount rose. She wondered what animals at auction thought as they stood there while others bid on them. She had to keep telling herself it was for a good cause.
The bidding went on longer than it had the year before. It was up to forty thousand when a deep voice from somewhere in the middle of the room said, “A hundred thousand.”
A shiver raced through Alex at the seductive tone.
The silence that followed was deafening.
The spotlight slid across the room and came to rest on a man leaning against the bar. Their eyes met, and her heart literally skipped a beat.
He was in a tux, but only the top portion. And as she took in the kilt, she had to admit, he looked as sexy as sin.
The light above him shone on his blond hair, pulled back into a neat queue at the base of his neck. He had some ornate thing draped around his hips, but all she could think about was if he had anything on beneath the kilt.
“Sold!” Lori suddenly shouted, causing Alex to jump.
The man turned and set his glass on the bar. Alex blinked before she made her way back to the stairs and Meg.
“Might I just say holy shit,” Meg whispered with a grin.
Alex stopped, only dimly aware that the next person was up on the stage being auctioned. “What just happened?”
“Somebody bid an extreme amount for you.”
Meg was smiling, her gaze telling Alex that she wasn’t sure why Alex wasn’t thrilled. But then again, Meg hadn’t seen the man.
“What’s wrong?” her assistant asked.
“He’s...different.”
Meg raised a black brow. “Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Have you met him?”
“Well, no,” Alex began.
But Meg continued. “Then you can’t really say that he’s different.”
Alex recalled the man’s stare. It had been bold, defiant even. And determined. Yes, determined was a very good word to describe him. He’d stood alone, as if he didn’t know anyone—or care that he was by himself.
His entire appearance gave off the vibe of “fuck you, I’m going to get what I want.”
A shiver went through Alex once again. Men like that were particularly difficult to handle. They never really understood the word no.
“I’ve never seen him before,” Alex said.
Meg’s gaze was directed toward the crowd. “I think everyone is figuring that out. Oh, my,” she whispered. “Is that a kilt?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I heard an accent. Hard to tell with only three words.” Meg swallowed loudly. “You know I have a thing for Outlander. If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
“Um...”
“He’s paying for you,” Meg went on, her entire focus on the stranger.
Alex grabbed another glass of champagne from a tray and took a long drink. The bubbles did little to squash the nerves in her stomach.
The past four years she had done this auction, she’d always ended up with men that she knew. Men that had asked her out on a date and she had turned down. This was their revenge in making her go out with them.
Which was fine with her as long as the charity got its money.
“He’s got that Jamie Fraser look down pat,” Meg murmured.
Alex rolled her eyes and snagged a napkin. “Here.”
Meg reluctantly pulled her gaze from the man and frowned. “What’s that for?”
“The drool.”
Meg huffed and snatched the napkin from Alex’s fingers. Her lips curved into a grin as her gaze returned to the man.
“He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Alex shook her head. “You say that once a week.”
“This time I mean it.” Meg suddenly whirled around to Alex. “He caught me staring. Oh, and by the way, he’s coming over here.”
Unable to help herself, Alex lifted her eyes and found herself snagged by his gaze.