Scratching Her Vinyl (Billionaire Auctions in Bloom) Read online

  I'm still on the fence about the whole thing.

  I'm kind of tired of that whole scene, but a night away from work would be nice. Just as I'm about to answer him, my work phone rings at my desk. Finally. I'm a little annoyed by the sudden interruption to my thoughts, but glad this guy is finally getting around to it.

  "So what do you think?" Kevin asks again.

  I need to hurry up and get him off the phone so I can get back to work. "Yeah, yeah, sure, that sounds fine," I agree hastily.

  My hand reaches for the other phone and I hold it in my other hand.

  "Really? You're serious?" He asks excitedly.

  "Yes, yes," I agree again, eager to get off the phone.

  "Great I'll call you once I have an exact date." He says before hanging up.

  "Yeah fine, I gotta go, ok, bye!" I say hanging up quickly and answering the other phone before I miss the call. "This is Dominic," I say smoothly, switching back into business mode.

  I pull out some papers and start taking notes of what is being asked. "Yes, we can definitely help you with that," I say, talking to the client on the phone, "If you like, we can have you come in for a meeting to discuss what kind of services you are looking for. I can switch you over to my secretary and we can pick a date that works for you." I say politely.

  I'm usually as charming as possible with the customers, especially on business calls, and this is no exception. Though I'm focused on work right now, a part of me is thinking about the auction. I can't believe I accepted his invitation. Well, hopefully he's right and things will be different this time, though I highly doubt it.

  It always seems to be the same crowd of people at these events, and that gets old really fast. It will be nice to have some guy time though. He's right, I have been working a lot lately. But that's the way I’ve always been.

  After I transfer the client over to my secretary, I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair with a sigh.

  I let myself think about my hopes for the auction a little bit longer, realizing that I’m not even sure what I’m looking for anymore. Maybe that’s why they feel so stale to me now. But I don’t have time to worry about it now. I tuck the thoughts aside, then get back to work. Compartmentalization is something I excel at.

  I think about the type of software this client is asking us to create. It's going to take a lot of work and planning. I start coming up with the team of people I'd like to be involved with on this project, jotting down notes and thinking about who I’ll assign as a project manager.

  I'll make more final decisions after I meet with the client and learn more about what they want, but I’ve already got a crew in mind. I check through my company emails, I find one from a previous client thanking us for our services. I don't smile, but I do feel a sense of pride that my company was able to do a satisfactory job. I send a standard company reply to them before closing my computer.

  I turn my attention back to the new project and start coming up with ways that it can be done. It's nice to never stop working and to always be needed, I suppose. The more jobs we get, the more money will roll in, and the happier my people will be.

  And by the time my day is over, the auction is long forgotten, tucked neatly in the back of my mind. It’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.

  Chapter 4 - Juliette

  I open the door to the shop and take a step inside. I flip the switch to turn on the lights and set my purse down behind the register.

  Everything is as I left it, pristine and untouched, and all I need to do is flip the sign to open. I do that before taking my usual spot by the register. Everything is as it should be, but it feels dimmer somehow.

  I can’t stand the silence, so I hasten to find something to put on the record player. I could really use the pick-me-up right now. I'm opening a little later than usual today, but I had a good reason.

  I just came from the bank. I spent all morning there trying to get a loan, and while the woman who helped me was kind and apologetic, I was unsuccessful. A lump forms in my throat and I fight back tears as the disappointing news crashes into me all over again.

  That was the last thing I could think of to try and save the store. Now…Now I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm right back where I started, just without the hope. I try to think of happier times, anything to keep me from just dissolving into a puddle on the floor.

  All that comes to mind is the grand opening, the day when Florian and I first opened the shop. That day was one of the best of my life, we’d both been so full of hope and excitement, and the joy in the air was palpable. It had been packed that day, and it had set the bar for a great start.

  When we worked together, this place was home, both to us, and to the customers, and that atmosphere kept people coming back. It was why the shop was always filled with customers. As I look around at it now, I can feel the sadness building up again. I don't want to cry. I can't give into my emotions right now or I might not be strong enough to get back up.

  On legs that feel like lead, I get up and start alphabetizing different sections of albums. I try and adjust the displays, showing off some of the more popular selections closer to the front window to try and get more people to notice the shop. Because maybe, just maybe, if I can retrieve some scrap of the old magic, maybe I can keep our dream alive.

  Ok, the truth is that I'm trying to keep myself busy once again so I don't think about what's going on. I take a deep breath and fix the scarf holding my dark curls back from my face, then go to the back of the store and grab some window spray, surface cleanser, and paper towels. I take my time carefully cleaning every nook and cranny.

  The store wasn't really dirty, I just needed something to do Anything to keep the sorrow at bay.

  That kills almost an hour and a half. I mop, I dust, I clean the store within an inch of its life, but there’s not really much to be cleaned, so once it’s spotless, I still have a long afternoon stretched out ahead of me.

  After putting away all of the cleaning supplies in the back room, I grab a stool and sit behind the register. I try to lose myself in the music, but it's no use. There’s no running anymore.

  All I can think about are my fears and worries about the store. I have nothing left to keep me busy. The helpless feeling of my situation overwhelms me and I feel like I’m drowning. I don't know what I'm going to do. I start to take panicked breaths. Tears fill my eyes. I feel like I'm on the verge of a breakdown.

  I don't see any way out of this situation. I’m out of options; there’s no one to help me, no miraculous fund that’ll magically appear to save my store.

  I'm about to fully lose it and start crying when two men suddenly burst through the front door. They are struggling with several large boxes. Alarmed and confused, my tears and worries are momentarily forgotten.

  "Where do you want these at?" One of the guys asks me.

  I just stare at them in confusion. He repeats his question, and I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about?" I respond.

  They both look at each other, then back at me. "Which suite number is this?" The guy asks.

  "This is suite B." I respond.

  The other guy gives him an almost comical look of frustration.

  "Oh, shit-I mean, shoot, I’m sorry about that. Can you tell us where suite D is? We're sorry to bother you,” the first guy stammers, flustered.

  I point to the right.

  "No worries. It's down that way, not the next one, but the one just around the corner on the back side." I explain.

  "Thanks. Again, sorry to bother you, Miss," The guy says.

  They carry their boxes out the door. I remain seated and watch them as long as they remain in eyesight. Even after they’ve disappeared from my view, I'm still thinking how odd the encounter was.

  Mr. Stevens had said the entire strip was being sold, so why would someone be moving stuff in? Unless maybe it’s someone who has some kind of arrangement with Courtney or something, but it’s hard for me to imagine
Courtney leaving this place as it is. From what I’ve seen, she basically takes a place, razes it to the ground, and starts fresh with something “modern” and dull.

  But in my curiosity, I’m distracted from my emotional turmoil, and I wonder what that was all about. I can't seem to come up with any logical explanation for it. I get up from my seat and peer out the window, wondering if I’ll be able to see anything.

  Despite my best efforts, however, since it’s all around the corner, there’s really nothing for me to see. I turn and start to walk away. I pause and look at the door. A good person would let this go, but I just can't.

  That situation didn't make any sense to me, but the only way to get any answers about it is to go down there and see for myself.

  For a moment, I’m nervous, fussing about what might happen if I get caught, but then I have to remind myself that I’m not really doing anything wrong, I’m just taking a little walk down there to see what’s up. It’s nosy, not criminal.

  After a few moments of deliberation I decide this is the only way I am going to get any answers, and I just know the mystery will bug me if I don’t find out. I put my ‘Back in 5’ sign up in the window and grab my phone and keys.

  I lock the store and look around the area. The strip seems deserted, which is pretty typical throughout the whole day. No cars in the lot, and the only other person I see around is a woman on the other side of the road, walking her dog.

  I casually make my way to Suite D and see the guys walking back toward me, talking. Nervously, I duck out of sight. I don’t know why I’m being such a weirdo, but I’m a little ashamed to admit that I’m just snooping. They move past me, unnoticing, and once they’ve passed, I continue towards the other suite. The door is propped open, presumably so they can continue loading stuff in, and I slowly creep inside.

  There’s not much to see, just boxes, but there are drop cloths covering some furniture, giving the place a spooky appearance. But they’re definitely moving stuff in. Maybe it’s tools and they’re working on a remodel?

  The more I look around, the more questions I have.

  Chapter 5 - Juliette

  "You're too early,” a woman’s voice says, startling me, “You'll have to come back later," She says.

  She steps out of some back room, and immediately, I’m struck. She’s lovely, tall and blonde, with an air of confidence I could only dream of possessing.

  "Um, I'm not here about that," I say nervously as she strides over to a stack of boxes and deftly rips one open, unfolding the flaps and assessing the contents.

  Wondering what exactly it is that I’m “too early” for, I go on: "I actually own the record store a few spaces over. I was just curious about what was going on over here and decided to be nosy and check it out," I admit sheepishly, a nervous little laugh bubbling from my lips.

  I avert my gaze to the ground. It was probably a little rude of me to be over here at all, let alone to just march right in. The woman is preoccupied with her task, however, and hardly seems to notice that I’ve opened my mouth.

  I take advantage of the moment to look around the space once more. "Are you opening a new shop here?" I ask, trying to keep the hope from creeping both into my voice and into my heart.

  "Goodness no,” the woman shakes her head and laughs, “We just rented the space for a one-night event." She explains.

  “Oh,” I mumble in disappointment.

  Something in my tone apparently draws her attention, she looks away from her boxes and throws a quick glance in my direction. She studies my appearance, looking me up and down, and I feel heat rising into my face at her intense stare.

  "Are you single?" She asks after a few more seconds of eyeing me.

  I blush crimson and am shocked into silence. After a few seconds I manage to stammer a response. "Uh, well, uh….you are lovely and all, don't get me wrong, but I'm straight,” I can't meet her gaze out of embarrassment.

  I don't want to offend her either with my response. To my surprise, she laughs and holds up her hand, showing me the wedding ring on her finger. "I am, too. Allow me to explain, I’m not hitting on you, the reason I was asking is because you’re really pretty and you’ve got a great look. I thought you might be interested in the event we are hosting tonight. " she replies.

  I look up at her with wide eyes. She definitely has my curiosity. "What do you mean? Is it like some kind of a fashion event?" I ask.

  No one has ever really complimented my looks or style before, although I know some of the stuff I like to wear is becoming trendy again. She shakes her head and laughs. "No, not exactly. Though the right outfit can certainly help you at this event," She says.

  Now I'm even more curious to know what she's talking about. She moves away from the boxes and we stand in front of each other talking. I listen as she explains what tonight is all about.

  "So I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of an auction, right?” she asks.

  I nod, curious. An auction sounds like the last thing I need right now, unless I’m contributing lots or something.

  “Well, this event is an auction, but rather than selling antiques or cars…we sell people’s time. Our patrons are mostly wealthy men, and our auction participants are offering everything from a simple date to more.”

  I’m puzzled for a moment, but then it clicks. “You mean, like…someone could sell…” I struggle to think of a polite way to word it, “A night in bed?”

  She chuckles. “Something like that, if they want to, yes.”

  My mouth hangs open in a mixture of shock and horror. I can't even imagine doing something like that. Subjecting myself to the pleasures of some stranger to make a quick buck. The woman laughs a little at my response. "Are you sure you wouldn't be interested in attending or participating? You have a lovely figure and I’m sure you would do quite well," She asks again.

  "No, thank you," I reply quickly.

  Suddenly I want to get back to the safety of my own store as soon as possible. "Well in case you change your mind, here's a business card. My number is on the back,” the woman says, handing the card to me.

  As I take the card from her I give her an awkward "thanks," stumbling backwards toward the door.

  She smiles and goes back to unpacking the boxes. I take that as my cue to exit and quickly walk back to my own store. I remove the sign from the front window and am once again open for business. I prop the business card on the register and start alphabetizing another section of the store.

  I try to think about other stuff, but everything that woman said stays with me. I just can't picture doing something like that. Plus there's no way making money could be as easy as she said. There has to be some kind of catch. Nobody gets paid just to have a good time.

  "Stop thinking about it. You are not that type of person," I scold myself.

  Still, I need to make some kind of an effort to raise money. My time here is quickly running out and so far I've got nothing to help me keep this store.

  I try unsuccessfully for several more minutes to stop thinking about my earlier conversation before finally, I give up on work and close the store again. I walk back to the suite where the woman is. Her door is still open, so I walk inside.

  Curiosity really is going to be the death of me.

  "Um. Excuse me," I say hesitantly as I approach.

  She turns around to look at me, "Yes?" She asks curiously.

  I step inside and hesitate a few more seconds. "How much can I make at this thing?" I ask bluntly.

  I need to stop beating around the bush when it comes to important things. But at the same time, that might have been a little too blunt.

  "Honestly?" the woman asks.

  I nod my head, butterflies churning in my gut.

  "You could make enough to set you up for life. I’ve seen girls walk away with thousands just for a date, and millions for more. It depends on you." She answers.

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head. This is like the answer to my prayers.

&nbs
p; I tell myself to calm down and not be too hasty about anything. I still need more information and I'm finding it very hard to believe what this woman is saying. I mean, honestly, millions? That doesn’t even sound real. It feels too good to be true, too easy.

  I walk over to her and continue the conversation. Skepticism is evident in my voice as I say, "I'm finding this all very hard to believe. It can't really be this simple to make that much money. It sounds too good to be true."

  She smiles good-naturedly as I voice my doubts.

  "Look, your doubts are understandable, but before you judge, why don't you come down and see for yourself?" She suggests.

  She can see the hesitation on my face. Before I can reject her offer she says, "You don't have to participate. Just come down, watch the first couple of auctions and see how it's done. If you like what you see, then we have a process for you to sign up and join on the spot. There's no harm in looking, and you'll meet a lot of people in case you want other opinions on it," She explains.

  I'm still unsure, but she does sound pretty convincing. She's probably right, it can't hurt to just observe. Plus I like that she isn't pressuring me to commit to being a part of it right now. She waits in silence as I weigh my options in my head. "What should I wear?" I ask after all my hesitation.

  She smiles, "I can definitely help with that…" she replies.

  After our conversation I bid her goodbye and head back to my store. I finish alphabetically organizing that section. I spend the rest of the day standing by the register and mulling over the information she gave me. Around closing time I give a last look around the store before locking up and heading home.

  I still have a few hours before the event and I spend that time making myself presentable, as well as preparing myself emotionally. I keep reminding myself that I don’t have to do anything, I’m just going to look. And if I participate, I could save my store. I remind myself that there's no pressure and I don't have to participate if I don't want to. That helps me breathe a little easier.