Chapter Eighteen
In the dressing room before the show, Hans made sure Ornette was perfect. The woman he’d hired to do her hair was a designer who had a reputation so large, that she could have joined the show on the designer side, but she was a woman.
Goldilocks Zone was a party for boys.
In any case, she made Ornette’s hair so beautiful, it rocked the entire planet.
Hans refrained from touching Ornette inappropriately while in the dressing room and maintained his professional facade later on stage. It must have taken all his self-control to accomplish such a thing. He loved it when people watched him do inappropriate things and there was a huge audience right in front of him. His imagination must have been barely contained.
It didn’t matter to Ornette what happened on the show that night. She wasn’t competing. She had won immunity. She wasn’t getting eliminated and sold. However, she appeared to be in the highest tier of contestants. Not the highest, but a strong contender. It was all because of Hans. Whoever controlled his public image did a great job.
The surprise new businessman came out. It was Rowan Hamelton just like Desmond said it would be. Ornette didn’t know who he was before he was introduced, except what Desmond had told her. He looked ordinary. He was blond with a receding hairline of wispy hair, a sure sign that he hadn’t spent his years in cryostasis, but awake and causing trouble. Ornette pegged him as her target for the evening. Desmond wanted her to get a DNA sample from him. She would do it, and it would be fun. At least it would be more interesting than spending the night in Hans’ bedroom.
Hands… Hans had opted for the red gloves after all, and Ornette clapped her hands together as Rowan was introduced.
When it came time to announce who was being eliminated, the votes were cast as to who was least wonderful, fascinating, beautiful, sexy, marvelous, and Mikayla was eliminated. Ornette remembered her as the one who held her drink the worst, which was a pity. She was prettier than Ornette and in better condition. She just hadn’t yet learned how to lie about how much drink she consumed or maybe she liked drinking. Ornette wanted to give her tips on how to fake it, but it was already too late. She probably wouldn’t get another chance to speak to her.
Then Papa Bear, Varner, stopped the game to announce that Clandestine had been granted immunity for some incredible emergency CPR she’d performed on her designer when he floundered in a swimming pool.
It took all the control Ornette had to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head and never rolling back into place. Clandestine had saved that man from drowning as much as someone saved a duck from drowning. His primary job was designing bathing suits. But Clandestine looked pleased. That was enough for Ornette to get a grip and give a genuine smile as she clapped for Clandestine.
Then Varner brought Mikayla back up to the main stage to be auctioned off. That was when things really got interesting.
Varner explained the rules. “All right. As all of you know, if you win a bid on a model, she’s yours for the rest of the show, so you won’t be able to continue playing. You take your girl and you head home. Then we offer your spot to one of the designers or CEOs we have waiting in the wings. I want to remind you that your bid will go The Children’s Charity here on Venus. It prevents children who lose their parents from being shipped off to Ceres. Now let’s talk about Mikayla.”
He went on to give Mikayla a glowing recommendation, listing her talents, and twirling her on the stage. He even favored her with a deeply admiring look that she completely deserved, except that she had already been given something to drink that night and faltered a little in her high heels.
Ornette winced.
Venus had its own currency. It had its decimal point in three spaces over instead of two so that a dollar was a thousand cents instead of a hundred. They did it to make their fabulous sums of money sound like less because they didn’t need to make it sound like more. Not only that, but they disliked the term billionaire because everyone who owned a piece of real estate in a cloud city was one. They always tried to downplay how much money they were really hoarding. They didn’t need any of the common folks on Earth or anywhere else, realizing how deeply they were screwing over the lower classes. Calling themselves billionaires instead of trillionaires or quadrillionaires made them so much more comfortable.
Varner started the bidding. “Let’s begin at three hundred thousand.”
Ornette winced again.
That was a low bid. She wasn’t even sold for a year for that little money. Ornette hoped the men bid high and brought the number up. It would seriously damage Mikayla’s resale value at Sleeping Beauty Inc. if she was sold on the live media outlets for such a low number.
The air was quiet.
No one was bidding.
Ornette’s whole body was plunged into a hot sweat on Mikayla’s behalf as it was quiet as a church in the auditorium. Did no one want her because she was the first to go up for auction? Did they all have their eyes on the other models?
Ornette swallowed.
Finally, someone raised their paddle. “You have three hundred thousand.”
Ornette swiveled her head around. Her face pinched together on instinct when she saw who had bid.
It was Rowan.
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That was bad news. He stepped into the aisle and made sure the cameras got good shots of him. He was doing it as a PR stunt. That way, he got as much attention as possible, he participated in the show but was off as soon as possible. Regardless of his motive, it was bad news for Desmond. If Rowan won Mikayla, it would be way weirder for Ornette to get a DNA sample from him at the after-party. How could she fuss over him when there was no chance he would bid on her later? She couldn’t butter him up if he was already going to be off the show.
It was still quiet. No one else was bidding.
Desmond put his paddle in the air. “Three hundred and fifty thousand,” he bid as casually as possible. He did not stand up, but the camera that displayed him on the jumbo screen still got a beautiful shot of him in his seat with his white-trousered legs extended casually into the aisle.
Ornette felt a rush of saliva fill her mouth. He looked fantastic. She wanted him to bid on her, but she wasn’t up for auction. She suddenly wanted it badly. She hadn’t realized he was able to bid. She thought that even though he was there on the side of the businessmen, he would refrain from participating. No one had been paired up with him for a challenge. If he won Mikayla…
Ornette felt the flood of saliva in her mouth turn to ash for three seconds before she got a grip.
He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to buy Mikayla. He was doing it because he didn’t want Rowan to win her. He wanted Rowan to stay on the show, not go home that night with a little brunette wrapped up like a present. If Desmond won Mikayla… What would he do with her? He wasn’t going to win her. He was going to drive up her price.
Rowan did not want to be beaten and he stuck his paddle back in the air even though he was already standing. “Four hundred thousand,” he bid.
That was a bit better as far as Mikayla’s resale value went and Ornette felt her body temperature drop a few degrees.
“Four hundred and fifty thousand,” Desmond bid. He looked bored.
Ornette’s jaw dropped. Her mouth hung in that astonished position for a solid ten seconds before she processed her emotion. She wanted him. The feeling was not just that she wanted him to buy her, but for once in her sell-out life, she wanted to have a real romantic moment with Desmond. He looked delicious even when he looked bored. The boredom enhanced his appeal because it was obvious he understood that everything around him was stupid and it was. It was a giant peeing contest for rich men and they were all engaged with all their attention on who could pee the farthest and be the biggest man. Desmond was not. The jumbo screen showed him pick a piece of lint off his white lapel and Ornette wished she was the one to do that for him. She never wished for that sort of thing when she dealt with owners.
The screen panned back to Rowan and she realized she’d been staring with her true emotions on her face, which was something she must never do.
But no one would have noticed. No one was watching her. They were focused on Rowan, Mikayla, Varner, and Desmond.
She would see Desmond later.
He would surprise her by showing up somewhere unexpected. A helocarrier, a revolving door, the lobby of the dorms, in her room… In her bed. She wanted him to be Goldilocks for once and get in the wrong bed. Please let it be hers.
Rowan slapped his paddle against his shoulder. “Five hundred thousand.”
Mikayla blew him a kiss and a third paddle went up. Ornette didn’t know him. He was just some other guy. He was from the businessman side, but he suddenly bid five hundred and fifty thousand.
A fourth completely different man bid six hundred thousand and Desmond did not bid again.
Across the stage, across all the seats, over all the heads between them, Ornette had her eyes on Desmond. He was close to the back and most of her view of him was blocked, but she could see his white head and it looked for all the world like he was staring back at her.
Rowan lost the bidding.
Someone else took Mikayla home.
As they finished up the show Ornette fished the tube of stickum Desmond had given her out of her bodice and put it on the first two fingers and the thumb of her right-hand glove. If she ruined them, she was sure Desmond could cover for her. She stowed the tube next to the other tube in her bra and went down to the afterparty.
As usual, she was swamped by a load of new admirers. Fen, Joel, and Hans were not allowed to approach her. They’d already had their fun. It was easy to steer the crowd toward Rowan and it wasn’t long before she was meeting him.
He was more impressive up close than he had been across the auditorium. Up close, he was tall with hands like pudgy claws, but he also had very full, very messy, eyebrows.
Ornette gushed on command. She pulled him a little closer to her. “Do you have any idea how distinguished your eyes are?”
He looked surprised, almost like he’d never heard a woman compliment him before. That couldn’t be true. Venus was swarming with gorgeous women who had married unfortunate-looking men for their money and had unfortunate-looking daughters as a consequence, but they all had surgery and improved their situation. Ornette had been the daughter of just such a woman. She had just had the luck to resemble her mother instead of her father. The point was that even if the women on Venus were not born with astounding good looks, they all had them in the end. If no one had complimented him before…
That was a red flag.
Desmond had really thrown her to the lions. Provoking a man who was so icky he had never been complimented by a pretty little gold digger was a dangerous move.
Ornette didn’t trust Desmond to protect her. You didn’t buy a woman so you could protect her. You bought a woman so she could protect you.
Ornette smiled even bigger. She couldn’t help it.
Even if that was the situation, that was always the situation. She’d been selling herself for decades. She still thought Desmond was the finest man who had ever been her owner.
So she smiled at Rowan like he was Desmond and told him he had powerful eyes and then she carefully smoothed out his eyebrows with her sticky thumb on the one side.
It was dark in the reception hall. The sky must have been covered by a black cloud instead of a gold one. She couldn’t see if she’d got a hair from his eyebrow, so she let her right hand go over his shoulder and into his blond hair at the nape of his neck.
She thought he would object to her touching him like that, but if she didn’t get the hair, she’d be shoving her tongue down his throat.
She muttered things in his ear that she wanted to say to Desmond, but could not. “You looked so powerful when you were bidding on Mikayla. I thought she was so lucky.”
“But I didn’t get her,” he commented ruefully.
She was about to say more when Papa Bear himself pulled her off him. Ornette had never experienced anything so forcefully flirtatious in her entire life. Varner came up to her, pulled her hand away from Rowan, and swung her into his arms.
Their eyes met and he gave her a look that read, ‘You can’t behave like this. You’re mine.’
She was astonished and said absolutely nothing.
He didn’t wait longer than two seconds for her to respond before he threw her over his shoulder and said noisily, “This one is mine tonight.”
Over his shoulder, Ornette balled her right hand together. If she was lucky she got a hair.