Bidding War (2 page)

And with that, the decision was made.

It was a stunning dress. It fell to just below my knee in an asymmetric hemline, which I loved. The neckline plunged in front, showing some cleavage, but not outrageously so, and there were laces across the back. If I were to dance in it, my date could place his fingers on my back and feel my bare skin through the laces. I loved it.

Mom also bought the rest of the accouterments I would need. Shoes, stockings, and even matching nail polish and lipstick. I don't usually match my lipstick to my clothes, but Mom told me if I were doing this, I should go all out.

"Honey," she said. "You are going to look stunning. You will fetch a good price on the auction block." She was grinning while teasing me. "I'm so proud of you."

* * *

A week later was the day of the big event. A local limousine service had donated rides for the volunteer bachelors and bachelorettes. The cocktail party began early at 5:30. There would be a silent auction for donated items and socializing for the volunteer dates with the guests. The auction for us was to start at 7:30 with dinner immediately after. There would be dancing after dinner. I was free to leave any time after 11.

Mom came over in the afternoon and helped me get ready. I showered and she did my makeup and hair for me. Then she helped me into the dress. She didn't let me look at myself until she was done. But I trusted her.

Finally, with only minutes before the limousine was due, she pulled me to the full length mirror on the back of my door in my bedroom.

I looked amazing. I stared, stunned, looking back and forth in front of the mirror. I turned to Mom, speechless.

She was beaming at me. "Definitely all grown up," she said. "Hold your head high tonight, Pamela."

I looked back at my reflection. "Thank you, Mom."

"Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it," she said.

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
Mom answered for me, admitting a stunning looking black man. I knew immediately he was gay.

He started flirting with mom. "I am Bernard," he told her. "Oh, you are going to fetch a pretty penny
tonight."

"It's nice to meet you, Bernard, but we both know that no one is interested in a woman my age. My daughter, on the other hand." Mom turned to me.

Bernard looked me up and down. "You must be Pamela. Sam told me to take special care of you."

"Are you the limo driver?" I asked.

"No, honey," he said. "I am your attendant. If you want something, you ask me, and I fetch it for you. If you are ready, your chariot awaits." He said this with a flourish. In spite of the corny line he managed to say it with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye.

I decided I liked him.

Mom settled a purple pashmina about my shoulders and told Bernard, "You will take care of that for her, then? It ruins the lines of the dress, but she'll need it later."

"Don't you worry, Mrs. Henderson. I'll take good care of your daughter."

"I'm sure you will, Bernard."

With that, he offered me an arm. Mom stepped out of the house first
, and I locked up after her before allowing Bernard to escort me to the car. He handed me into the car, climbing in after me.

We started rolling, and Bernard and I looked at each other. "I can offer you liquid refreshments," he said. "But I will warn you. Part of my job is to manage your liquid for you."

I laughed. "You won't need to worry about that. I'd like a diet soda, Bernard, if one is available. Later, a glass of wine might be nice, but not more than one."

He smiled. "Let me rephrase that. Part of my job is to make sure you find enough liquid courage, but not to
o much." But he poured me a diet soda from a supply in a mini fridge built into the limo. I thanked him and asked about the evening.

"Until the auction starts, you should mingle," he said. "It is my responsibility to make sure you do. I'll keep you moving so no one can monopolize your time. In the past, we didn't do it this way, and we found that some of the guests were quite good at cornering the volunteers, and that just won't do."

"So I smile and nod and go where you tell me to go?"

He laughed. "Yes, honey." He patted my hand. "That's it exactly. You just let Bernard handle everything. You smile and look stunning." He looked me up and down again. "And I will say, you are doing that part exceedingly well."

I smiled, suddenly shy. "Thank you," I said.

We spent the rest of the ride with Bernard trying to put me at ease. I wasn't at all nervous. I had a guaranteed bid of two hundred dollars from Bonnie, after all. At least I'd net that much. Finally I told
him that.

"Oh honey," he said. "
You won't go for under a thousand dollars."

I stared at him. "Someone would pay a thousand dollars for a date with me?"

"It's for charity," he said. "And you won't go that cheaply."

My mind boggled at the suggestion. I thought perhaps he was trying to build my confidence, so I let it go. We talked about the other aspects of the evening.

At no point did I ask the questions I should have asked.

* * *

Promptly at 5:30, we pulled up in front of the Minneapolis Convention Center. The convention center is a huge structure on the edge of downtown. Our event was occupying two of the many convention rooms in the center. There was one large room to be used for the cocktail party, and dinner was a catered event in the room next door.

Bernard stepped out, drawing me after him. He offered my hand, and I took it, looking around.

It was fun being on Bernard's arm. He was immaculately dressed and a complete gentleman. He was also funny and extremely solicitous. I felt completely safe with him looking out for me. We took a few steps and I pulled him to a stop. "Thank you," I said. "I was a little nervous I guess, like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Will you stay with me the entire evening?"

"The first half, until the auction. After that, you'll spend the remainder of the evening with your date."

I nodded. "That's all right," I said. "The ice should be broken by then." I paused. "I hope I'm not a disappointment."

He laughed before he realized I was serious. He patted my hand soothingly and pulled me into the building.

Bernard led me through the convention center, soon taking us off the beaten path. "We'll go in the back way," he said. "Sam is waiting for us. She may have some last minute instructions for you." We took several turns before arriving at a door being guarded by a couple.

"Hello, Barry," Bernard said. He nodded at the woman. "This is Pamela Henderson, one of the dates we're auctioning tonight."

At that, the woman perked up and checked me out, smiling, and I think she wanted an introduction, but Bernard ignored her. Barry checked us off a list and let us in the door.

We were in what was basically a back stage area of the convention center. Everything was a little crazy. To the right there was a station set up with two women doing makeup. I saw Bonnie getting touched up.
As she'd told me, she was wearing a tuxedo. She looked pretty good. Over to the left, a harried-looking Suzanne was talking to someone. I didn't see Sam right away. Bernard pulled me towards the makeup station.

"Bernard, my mother did my makeup, and I'm happy with it."

"They have corsages for you," he said. He led me to a small group of people, and that was when I saw Sam.

She was talking two three guys, all dressed exceedingly well, but the moment she saw me, she stopped and stared at me. Bernard drew me straight to her.

"Pamela," she said. "You look amazing!"

"Don't act so shocked, Sam," I said quietly.

She stepped closer to me and gave me a tentative hug, careful to avoid mussing my appearance. While hugging me she whispered into my ear, "Thank you so much. I owe you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't volunteered."

"You didn't want me to do it."

"Pamela, I wanted you to do this like you couldn't believe, but I couldn't bring myself to ask. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You're my best friend, Sam. Of course I want to help you out." We separated and I looked at her. She looked more nervous than I did. What was odd was that she hadn't looked nervous when I walked in.

"Pamela," she said. "I hope you still say that after tonight."

"Don't be silly," I told her.

She smiled wanly. "Let me introduce you to some of the other bachelors." She turned to the men she'd been talking to. I realized they varied in age from upper twenties to mid-forties. "This is Billy," she said. "Brent and John." I shook hands with all of them. I was a little surprised, as I thought Brent might be gay. But if Bonnie could be auctioned off, I guess a gay man could, too. Heck, if I had the money, I'd pay for a date with Bernard. I bet he'd make sure I had a pleasant evening.

And of course, it's all for charity.

"I have a white corsage for you," Sam said. She turned to a table behind her, and I saw there were still a couple more corsages and several boutonnieres waiting to be pinned on their respective bachelors and bachelorettes. Sam picked one up and carefully pinned it into place above my left breast.

"Everyone knows that someone wearing one of these white corsages is one of the bachelors," Sam explained. "You should mingle and not spend more than a minute or two with anyone. If you're spending too much time with someone, Bernard will pull you away. You can spend a little bit longer with a group, but you need to mingle."

"Got it," I said.

"Make sure when you meet someone you offer your name. You'll get asked a lot of questions. Use your judgment in answering them, but please don't lie. It's better to refuse to answer questions that are too personal." I nodded.

"If someone gets out of hand, Bernard will deal with them."

"Right."

She smiled at me. "Thank you, Pamela. Try to have a nice time. Please don't hate me."

I patted her hand. "This will be fun, Sam."

At that point, Bonnie came over. We gave each other careful hugs, then she pulled away. "You look ravishing." She sighed. "I don't think my two hundred dollar bid is going to do me any good."

"Why would you pay for a date with me, Bonnie? We already go to the club together three times a week."

She smiled. "For the goodnight kiss."

I laughed. "You wouldn't like kissing me," I told her. "I taste like straight girl."

"I know," she said. "Straight girls taste especially sweet."

Pamela hugged Bonnie and pinned a boutonniere on her. She looked stunning. "Why a tux instead of a dress? Won't that put off the bidders?"

No one said anything right away, then Bonnie said, "Naw. There are a few gay women in the crowd. They'll bid on me." She paused. "But you'll bring in more than I do. Ready?"

"I guess."

She turned to her handler, a fabulously-dressed man whose name I hadn't caught. He looked just as delectable as Bernard. "Lead the way," she told him.

Bernard and I followed after Bonnie and her handler, stepping through
a set of double doors at the back of the convention hall.

"Showtime," Bonnie said, looking over her shoulder at me.

I was suddenly nervous. I turned to Bernard. "What am I doing?"

"Helping a friend out," he said quietly. "And helping a very good charity. Don't worry, honey, Uncle Bernard is here." He patted my hand. I smiled weakly.

I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Who was I to think anyone would want to pay money to have a date with me. I couldn't keep a guy for more than a few weeks, and while I was somewhat picky about who I'd go out with, I was usually willing to give almost anyone one date, if he asked nicely and wasn't a jerk. Why would someone pay for that when they could have it just for the asking?

I stood in the doorway, staring out at the crowd.

"Bernard-"

"Step forward now, Pamela," he said. "Don't think about that. Mingle. Meet people. Say hello."

"I'm going to feel like a piece of meat."

"I was one of the bachelors last year," he said. "And I'd never had more fun. Try to enjoy it."

And then he pulled me deeper into the room, and I got a chance to look around.

We had entered in the back of the room near the corner. To our left was the stage where, I presumed, the auction would be held. They didn't have a sign that said "auction block" but they may as well have. I looked around for the slave cells, but I didn't see those, either. I commented on that to Bernard. He laughed.

Along the long wall to the right of us, heading from the back corner next to us almost all the way to the front corner were tables, and on the tables were the items available for the silent auction.

The rest of the room was filled with people milling about.

This wasn't the largest room at the convention center, but it wasn't small. "How many people are here?" I asked Bernard.

"Several hundred," he said. "We sold a total of five hundred tickets, plus figure another 35 or 40 helping to host the event, if you count the bachelors and their handlers.
Not everyone is here yet."