Page 103 of Breakaway Bet

I bring the drink back to my wife while West and Kellan head off to do their part, and I have literally no idea why I agreed to this stupid plan other than my two best friends were taunting me, and I’m not about to let those two idiots think they’re getting the better of me.

“Want to look at the auctions?” Ivy asks.

“Do you remember your paddle number in case you want to bid on anything?” I ask.

She nods. “Three twenty-five.”

“I’m three twenty-six,” I say.

We make our way over toward the silent auction table, where we see West and Kellan perusing. Or at least pretending to peruse when they’re really taking a photo of the bid sheet so they can make a duplicate.

We scan through the items, and there are several items donated by Vegas Aces players, but not by Dex. There are game tickets, suite experiences, all sorts of things. The baseball team in town donated some items as well, and I spot several items from the Vegas Vengeance. The big-ticket item is four tickets against the glass and a jersey signed by the entire team at the end of last season.

It wouldn’t be that far-fetched to see the one I proposed for Dex over here, though inviting a stranger into his home is probably a bad idea.

I let it fly anyway.

We head to our table to sit, and luckily the two women sit between Dex and me. It’s a round table with ten place settings, and on my right are two empty seats with paddles there, clearly reserving the spots. Asher Nash, tight end for the Aces, sits with his wife next to the empty seats by me, and as I look around the table, I spot Everleigh and Maverick as they take the seats beside Dex.

We all seem to know one another from events just like this and from playing pro sports in the same town, and I can’t decide if the organizers mixed me with these football players to help drum up some cross-promotional opportunities or if I’m sitting here because my wife is related to more than half the people at this table.

West slides into the chair beside me, and Kellan is on his other side, just before the dinner service begins.

The organizers get on the mic as the first course is served, and West leans over toward me.

“It’s done.” His voice is low enough that only I can hear.

“How?”

He holds up both hands. “Magic.”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my whiskey, and I feel Ivy’s hand find its way to my thigh. I lean a little closer to West so she can’t hear as he gives me the details.

“I told the front desk there was a last-minute addition to the silent auction, and they let me print right from my phone. Found a clipboard just sitting on a table waiting for me, and the rest is history.”

“He’s going to kill me,” I murmur.

West laughs—loudly—garnering a few glares from nearby since the organizer is still speaking.

“What are you two laughing about?” Ivy whispers to me.

“Nothing,” I murmur, and I focus on listening to the speech while enjoying my butter lettuce with champagne vinaigrette.

We make it through all the dinner courses, and when we’re on our dessert course, the emcee announces that there are only fifteen minutes left to bid on the silent auction. During dinner, I happen to commit Dex’s paddle number to memory. I’m not sure why I do it. It’s not like I’m going to bid on something in his name. Maybe I’ll bid on something in West’s name, though. Seems like something that fucker would do.

I meander over to the silent auction table. There was a nice weekend getaway for two to Lake Tahoe that I might surprise my wife with at some point, and when I check the bid sheet, I see Dex’s number next to the most recent bid.

The competitor in me isn’t going to let that happen. Even if I didn’t want the trip, I don’t want Dex to win it.

His bid is twelve thousand. The trip is valued at nine thousand.

I bid thirteen.

It’s a pissing contest, and I’m well aware of that.

Or maybe I just want to drive up his bid a little more. Make him spend a bit more than he planned to as I slide in here at the last minute.

Maybe I’ll do it during the live bidding, too. It’s just a friendly little competition between brothers-in-law, after all.