Bidding War (3 page)

I looked at the people. Attire was all over the board. I saw other people dressed exceedingly well, including some older women wearing very expensive jewelry and gowns. At the other end of the spectrum were people dressed in faded jeans. I didn't see any tee-shirts, so at least it wasn't off the deep end of casual. Still, I was surprised.

Everyone was carrying a little magazine that I discovered was the program for the night. In the section for the bachelor auction, there were photos and bios of all the bachelors and bachelorettes. Sam had used a photo she already had of me and had written my bio.

Bonnie's
attendant drew her in one direction, and she disappeared into a small crowd of people. Bernard drew me in the opposite direction, bringing me straight to the two old ladies who were dressed to the nines.

"Agnes," he said. "Jean. I'd like to present bachelorette number six, Pamela Henderson."

"Oh, aren't you ravishing," said Jean. "You're Sam's straight friend, aren't you?"

I thought that was an odd way to put it, but I said I was.

"You're going to be very popular," said Jean. "If I were a few years younger, I'd bid on you myself."

"Over my dead body," Agnes said. "Thank you for supporting our event this year."

We chatted briefly before Bernard pulled me away.

"Those two ladies were totally flirting with me," I told Bernard. He didn't say anything. Before he could pull me to another group I asked, "Could we look at some of the auction items? There might be something I want to bid on."

He frowned.

"Am I not
allowed to bid on them?"

"Honey," he said. "You need to mingle. Please."

I sighed. "All right." I let him pull me to a small group of women where I met Victoria, Wendy, Shane and Veronica. All four of them were stunning. Victoria and Wendy looked to be in their fifties. Veronica appeared to be mid-thirties and Shane was younger than I was. We didn't stay for more than a minute.

Before we could reach the next group, we w
ere intercepted by a stunningly dressed, forty-year-old woman. "I'm Tara," she said. "And you are?"

"Pamela Henderson," I told her. "Bachelorette number six."

"Sam's straight friend?" she asked me. I nodded. I guessed that people were keeping track of Bonnie as Sam's gay friend and me as Sam's straight friend. It seemed odd.

"It's so good of you to donate yourself for this," Tara said. "It's a wonderful charity." She paused. "You'll really give your date a good evening?"

"I'm not offering sex, if that's what you're asking," I said.

"No, no," she said. "Of course not. But a proper date, with, well, flirting?"

"And a good night kiss, assuming my date is a proper gentleman."

She smiled, looked me down once more, then made notes in her program. "It was good to meet you. Perhaps we'll meet again."

Bernard slowly had me work the room, traveling counterclockwise. Sometimes he pulled me to a group of people. Other times someone saw my corsage and introduced herself. He introduced me to woman after woman. I was often referred to as Sam's straight friend, and several women asked whether I would really be providing a proper date or if it were just a token date. I assured them I'd give it my all, but that I wasn't offering sex in the mix.

Finally w
e had been there for forty minutes, and I still hadn't been introduced to a single man.

After having just talked to Cynthia, and a third Jean, I pulled Bernard to a stop. "When are you going to introduce me to potential bidders? Bernard, I do not want to go for an embarrassingly low price."

He looked at me in confusion. "Honey, you don't need to worry about that. And I have been. Haven't you been noticing? The ladies are all taking notes in their programs."

I stared at him, then looked around. I looked at the people. To my right I saw two women holding hands. Directly in front of me, four men were talking, all of them impeccably dressed, and one of the guys was leaning with his hand on the shoulder of the guy next to him.

I looked at Bernard. It was obvious he was gay. Sam, Suzanne and Bonnie were all gay. The first two women I'd been introduced to were obviously a couple.

"Bernard," I asked very quietly. "Is everyone here gay?"

"Of course not," he said. "Sam said you're straight."

"Who else?"

He looked around. "Maybe some of the wait staff." He said it with a very tentative tone as if he wasn't sure.

I stared at him before asking my next question. "What group is hosting this charity event?"

"The local LGBT group, honey. You knew that, right?"

"That bitch!" I said. "I'm going to kill her!"

His eyes grew wide. "You didn't know that?"

"Where is she?" I said, looking around. I didn't see Sam. I immediately began heading towards the back of the hall
and towards the doors we had come in, looking for Sam. Bernard hurried to catch up to me, catching my arm.

"Pamela," he said. "Honey."

"Don't honey me," I told him. "I'm going to kill her. This is why she told me not to hate her."

"She should have told you," he said.

"Damned right she should have told me!" I was seeing red. Bernard had my arm in his hand and was trying to drag me to a stop, but I pulled him along, and he had the choice of making a scene or following along.

I didn't see Sam or Suzanne, but I saw Bonnie and altered course to intercept her. I got about six feet away before she noticed me. I stopped and glared at her. She offered a tentative smile, then closed the distance to us. Bernard had grown quiet.

"You bitch," I told her quietly. Her attendant looked shocked. "How could you? I thought we were friends."

"Shhh," she said. "Pamela, we are."

"You bitch. Find a new workout partner."

I turned my back on her and stormed off, Bernard hurrying to catch up to me.

"Honey," he said. "Pamela, calm down. You can do this."

"I am letting my best friend know she needs a new best friend, and then I am calling a cab."

"Are you that big a homophobe?" he asked me quietly.

I stopped in my tracks. "Up until this event," I told him, hissing, "My three best friends were, in order, Sam, Bonnie and lately Suzanne. Do not judge me. They did this on purpose, and it's not funny. Not a single one told me."

I turned and got five more steps before he ran past me and blocked my path. "Do you think they did this to be mean?"

I stared at him. "You know, Bernard, I don't know why my former best friend would set me up like this, and I'm not sure I care. I can't imagine a good enough reason."

I tried to step past him, but he blocked me. "Why is it so bad?"

I stared at him. "Because I'm straight, and they want me to go on a date with a woman."

"So? I'm gay, and I don't die if I go out with a woman. Why would this be any different?"

I was still seeing red, but Bernard had been nice, and I thought about what he said.

"Pamela, honey," he said. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be mad. You should be. But are you going to burn bridges over this? These are your best friends. Is it that bad?"

I deflated a little. "Why, Bernard? Why wouldn't they tell me?"

"Honey," he said. "I don't know. It's a shitty trick. But I know that there were two cancellations. We'd already sold our tickets based on having six men and six women, and we desperately needed someone as big a draw as you would be. Sam was desperate. She couldn't take just anyone, she needed someone stunning, someone near your age, someone to make up for who had cancelled."

"She should have told me," I said quietly.

"Maybe she was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Damned
right I wouldn't have come!"

"Why not? Don't you support the charity?"

"Of course I do," I said.

"Wouldn't you help your best friend out of a jam?"

"Of course I would."

"Pamela, tell me what you wouldn't do for Sam."

I thought about it and didn't have an answer.

"If she were in trouble, would you kill for her?" he asked me.

"That's ridiculous," I said.

"Would you? If that was the only way to save her?"

"Of course I would, but-"

"Would going out with the women you've met tonight be as bad as killing someone?"

"Of course not, but-" I didn't have anything to add after the but. "I'm still mad," I said finally.

"I don't blame you," he said. "But put it in perspective. Do you want to lose your three best friends over this?"

I looked away. "Damn it, Bernard, you're taking my anger away, and I haven't bitched out Sam yet."

"We'll go bitch her out, but please don't burn bridges. And Pamela, as much as you want to, you have to stay. You have to. It won't be that bad. You'll have fun. I promise you, you'll have fun."

I let him take my arm, and he led me into the back area, deflecting several women who wanted to meet me. "We'll be back out shortly," he told them.

When we got in back, I didn't see Sam right away, but I saw Suzanne. She saw us coming and shooed away the people she was talking to. I walked up to her and put my hands on my hips. "Where is she?" I asked in a very low voice. "Where is the woman who I thought was my best friend?"

"Pamela," Suzanne said. "Please calm down. She's afraid you'll hate her."

"Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you? All three of you sat there, and not one of you told me. Why?"

"We were desperate."

"Not good enough!
" I bellowed, not caring who heard me. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here, Pamela," Sam said
in a quiet voice from behind me. I turned around and glared at her. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I was afraid you would say 'no'."

"You have to do it," Suzanne said. "Pamela, please. We sold tickets. Very expensive tickets. We had backups, but our two best women cancelled."

"And you replaced them with me?" I asked, turning to face her. "You couldn't do better? You know, maybe find a gay girl instead?"

Sam stepped around me to stand next to Suzanne. "I called everyone I knew," she said. "Everyone Suzanne knew. And they all called the people they knew. And it kept coming back to, 'if only Pamela were gay, she'd be perfect'."

"Yes, but I'm not gay," I said.

"It's one date," Sam said. "And you told Bonnie if she won, you'd kiss her. Were you teasing?"

I looked away.

"Were you lying when you said she'd get a goodnight kiss?" Sam asked again.

I turned back to her. "No, but-"

"If you hadn't said that," Sam said, "I was going to tell you the rest. I was about to, then you said that, and I thought, if I tell you, you won't
help. But it won't be that bad. I've kissed guys. We all have. You could flirt for an evening and kiss one woman, one little goodnight kiss, and you'll make a lot of money for the foundation and save the entire event."

"You're being overly dramatic."

"No, she's not," Suzanne said. "People come for the auction. We needed you, Pamela."

"Completely ridiculous. In a town full of gay women, you couldn't find someone?"

"No, I couldn't, and I was out of time," Sam said. "Pamela, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tricked you. I understand if you never want to see me again. But you have to do this. Please."

"I am mad at all three of you," I said. "And I intend to stay that way. Perhaps for a very long time. But fine. I'll do it. Under protest. But this may have cost you a friend, so you damned well better not look happy about it."

I turned to Bernard. "I need a drink, and I bet I need fresh makeup."

He nodded and took my arm, drawing me to the makeup station. I sat down and fumed, ignoring Bernard's attempts to lighten my mood. An artfully dressed women walked over and looked at me.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "Who is this?" She looked at me critically.

"This is Pamela," he said.

"Ah. Sam's straight friend," she said. She looked at me. "Are you okay?"

"No. I just lost three friends. Now I need to put my game face on. Do what you need to do. Bernard, I promise I won't flee if you go find me a glass of red wine."

"Promise?"

I sighed. "Promise."  I sighed again. "I'm going to need more than one, but don't let me get drunk."

"I'll take care of you honey," he said. "Thank you." He paused. "Think about forgiving them."

"Please, Bernard, I think my staying is all anyone can expect right now."

The makeup woman watched all this in puzzlement. Bernard said to her, "Sam didn't tell her who would be bidding on her." Then he left my side. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"Ohhh," she said. "That was kind of shitty."

"Yeah," I said. Tears started escaping my eyes.

"Oh, Pamela, it's not that bad."