Belle waited for the first bid. What if no
one wanted her? Could there be anything more humiliating than being dressed up
like a damn sexy elf, put on stage and then ignored?
The
suddenly, someone shouted, “A thousand pounds.”
Belle
let out a breath but couldn’t see where the shout came from. She knew a lot of
the clients by name, having worked at the club for two years now. Some were
kind and friendly, some not so much. None would mistreat her but a lot of
business men, in her experience, expected you to be at their beck and call.
They were so used to having everything their way—and at their pace—that they
were confused by anyone who might rebel against that. And Belle couldn’t help
but feel a little rebellious at times. It was how she was. If someone pushed
her one way, she pushed the other. It wasn’t a great trait in a waitress, but
she was well liked and always put in extra hours so it hadn’t got her in trouble
yet.
To her
surprise another voice rang out. “Two thousand.”
“Three
thousand.”
“Five
K.”
Belle
darted her gaze around in surprise. Just out of the glare of the lights, a guy in
a large Santa suit had bid. She cringed inside. She didn’t know who it was, but
he had a huge belly—easily big enough to play Santa—and who knew what the bushy
beard hid? The guy could be anyone.
“Ten
thousand,” another bid came and Belle had to fight to keep the astonishment
from her face. Who would want to pay ten thousand for her?
“Fifteen
thousand.” It was the first guy.
“Twenty
thousand.” Santa again.
These
two went back and forth, and Belle kept swinging her gaze from the dark spot,
where the first voice came from and the guy in the Santa outfit. When the
bidding reached fifty thousand, she thought she’d pass out. It slowed then and
she assumed Santa had bowed out, until he shouted, “One hundred thousand!”
Her legs
juddered underneath her and she held her breath to wait for the other bidder’s
response. The room fell totally silent. All she could hear was her heart
pounding in her chest.
“Any
more bids? No? The sexy Belle is going to be sold to Santa Claus for one
hundred thousand pounds! And I think we can all agree, she’s worth everything
penny!” Lilly declared. “Going once, going twice…. Sold to Santa!”
***
Belle
straightened her red dress one more time and sucked in a deep breath. She
peeled open the note she’d been handed after the auction, skimmed over the
scrawled writing for the billionth time and nodded to herself. This was the
right place.
Dîner
Noir , a
restaurant that was at the forefront of one of the newest trends—eating in the
dark. She shuddered. Why on Earth would anyone want to eat in the dark? Maybe
Santa Claus was hideous. Maybe that was why he’d sent her a note instead of
meeting her like all the other bidders. All it said was for her to meet him
here and that was pretty much it.
Glancing
down at her dress again, she scrunched up the letter and stuffed it into her
handbag. What did it matter what she looked like if she was going to be eating
in the dark? She only hoped she didn’t spill all her dinner down herself. And
she wished she could have asked her flatmate’s opinion. He’d been out all day
but normally she trusted him with her life. He wasn’t the most fashion-forward
of men but he’d always tell her if she looked terrible.
Entering
the restaurant, Belle approached the desk and smiled at the receptionist, an attractive
middle-aged woman with slightly too much make up and black hair. “Hi, I’m here
to meet a…uh…” her cheeks warmed—she couldn’t believe she was going to say
this, “Mr. S. Nicholas. My name is Belle Winters.”
The
woman skimmed a finger down the book in front of her. “Ah, yes. Mr. Nicholas
said he was expecting a guest. What meal will you be having? We offer four
menus. The chef’s surprise , the meat menu , the fish and seafood
menu or the vegetarian ?”
“Isn’t
it all going to
one wanted her? Could there be anything more humiliating than being dressed up
like a damn sexy elf, put on stage and then ignored?
The
suddenly, someone shouted, “A thousand pounds.”
Belle
let out a breath but couldn’t see where the shout came from. She knew a lot of
the clients by name, having worked at the club for two years now. Some were
kind and friendly, some not so much. None would mistreat her but a lot of
business men, in her experience, expected you to be at their beck and call.
They were so used to having everything their way—and at their pace—that they
were confused by anyone who might rebel against that. And Belle couldn’t help
but feel a little rebellious at times. It was how she was. If someone pushed
her one way, she pushed the other. It wasn’t a great trait in a waitress, but
she was well liked and always put in extra hours so it hadn’t got her in trouble
yet.
To her
surprise another voice rang out. “Two thousand.”
“Three
thousand.”
“Five
K.”
Belle
darted her gaze around in surprise. Just out of the glare of the lights, a guy in
a large Santa suit had bid. She cringed inside. She didn’t know who it was, but
he had a huge belly—easily big enough to play Santa—and who knew what the bushy
beard hid? The guy could be anyone.
“Ten
thousand,” another bid came and Belle had to fight to keep the astonishment
from her face. Who would want to pay ten thousand for her?
“Fifteen
thousand.” It was the first guy.
“Twenty
thousand.” Santa again.
These
two went back and forth, and Belle kept swinging her gaze from the dark spot,
where the first voice came from and the guy in the Santa outfit. When the
bidding reached fifty thousand, she thought she’d pass out. It slowed then and
she assumed Santa had bowed out, until he shouted, “One hundred thousand!”
Her legs
juddered underneath her and she held her breath to wait for the other bidder’s
response. The room fell totally silent. All she could hear was her heart
pounding in her chest.
“Any
more bids? No? The sexy Belle is going to be sold to Santa Claus for one
hundred thousand pounds! And I think we can all agree, she’s worth everything
penny!” Lilly declared. “Going once, going twice…. Sold to Santa!”
***
Belle
straightened her red dress one more time and sucked in a deep breath. She
peeled open the note she’d been handed after the auction, skimmed over the
scrawled writing for the billionth time and nodded to herself. This was the
right place.
Dîner
Noir , a
restaurant that was at the forefront of one of the newest trends—eating in the
dark. She shuddered. Why on Earth would anyone want to eat in the dark? Maybe
Santa Claus was hideous. Maybe that was why he’d sent her a note instead of
meeting her like all the other bidders. All it said was for her to meet him
here and that was pretty much it.
Glancing
down at her dress again, she scrunched up the letter and stuffed it into her
handbag. What did it matter what she looked like if she was going to be eating
in the dark? She only hoped she didn’t spill all her dinner down herself. And
she wished she could have asked her flatmate’s opinion. He’d been out all day
but normally she trusted him with her life. He wasn’t the most fashion-forward
of men but he’d always tell her if she looked terrible.
Entering
the restaurant, Belle approached the desk and smiled at the receptionist, an attractive
middle-aged woman with slightly too much make up and black hair. “Hi, I’m here
to meet a…uh…” her cheeks warmed—she couldn’t believe she was going to say
this, “Mr. S. Nicholas. My name is Belle Winters.”
The
woman skimmed a finger down the book in front of her. “Ah, yes. Mr. Nicholas
said he was expecting a guest. What meal will you be having? We offer four
menus. The chef’s surprise , the meat menu , the fish and seafood
menu or the vegetarian ?”
“Isn’t
it all going to
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