Page 2 of Singled Out

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Page 2 of Singled Out

“I guess that would depend on how many secret babies you have running around in the world.”

Normally that would make me laugh, but tonight it caused a shudder. I held in a growl, closed my eyes, and shook my head.

“Max.” My sister’s tone was suddenly serious. “This is supposed to be a fun night out for you, but look at you. You’re a stressy mess. Daniel’s in good hands.”

I nodded, knowing she was right and wishing I could snap out of it. “Yeah. Okay. I need to get in there. I think I hear them rounding up the cattle.”

“I think bulls is a better word here,” Dakota said. “Work on that smile so you aren’t the lowest bid of the evening.”

Hell. I hadn’t had a chance to worry about superficial shit like that. “You think I’ll go for less than Sergio Vega?”

My sister scoffed. “Shut up, golden boy.” With a roll of her eyes and a smile, she pivoted and clacked off in her ridiculous heels toward the ladies’ room.

Nothing left to do but get in there and get this over with so I could go check on my boy.

I smoothed the front of my button-down shirt and braced myself as I opened the door to the noisy holding area backstage.

“Hell, I was hoping you’d gone home,” Kemp Essex said, clapping me on the back as I joined him, Cade McNamara, and Anton White in one of the multiple clusters of men decked out in a mix of dressy-casual and casual clothes. “Thin out the competition.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be more bachelors, more money for the cause?” I asked dryly.

“Sure, but I’d prefer to get the highest bid,” Kemp said.

“Wouldn’t happen even if Max stepped aside,” Cade said.

“Sure wouldn’t be you either, bro,” Anton said.

“I guess we’ll see what the ladies think,” Kemp said as Talia Latimer, one of the organizers, whistled for everyone’s attention.

She went over the same info she’d given us earlier, about the cause, about what we were supposed to do when it was our turn on stage, what was appropriate and what was inappropriate. Stuff she shouldn’t have to go over, but with this group, it was a good idea.

The cause was one I was happy to support—art in education. As a math teacher myself, I valued education to the highest degree. Our small town had suffered multiple cuts to non-STEM programs like art and music.

What was more, I couldn’t help but wonder if people like my sister would be more productive and successful in life if our high school had an art department. Dakota had drifted through school, uninterested in all of it. As a full-time bartender at Henry’s, she did okay, but I couldn’t help but wonder when she’d start wanting more for herself. For fun, Dakota created hand-thrown mugs and other ceramics. She turned out some impressive pieces. If she’d found her art interest sooner, where would she be today?

Most importantly, though, I was a parent now. I had a kid who would grow up in the Dragonfly Lake school system. I sure as hell wanted him to have every opportunity in the world to explore his interests and become a well-rounded human.

At the thought of Daniel, that general pang of worry twisted my gut, so I pulled out my phone. Nothing from my mom. Fuck it. I typed in a message.

Her reply came right away.

Danny’s sleeping soundly. Cough medicine is doing its job, and his fever went down with Tylenol. I’ve got this, Max. Relax and have fun! That’s an order.

Easier said than done.

I thanked my mom yet again for being there for my boy, then put my phone away and tried to do what she’d suggested.

As Talia sent the first of the twenty bachelors, Elijah Watt, toward the stage like a prime piece of twenty-two-year-old meat, I wasn’t really feeling it, but I was determined not to let it show. Time for public Max to do his thing.

Chapter Two

Harper

I stepped away from the bar with my vodka cranberry and took in the room at large.

The ballroom of the Marks Hotel was decorated elegantly with colored fairy lights against a midnight blue backdrop, silver accents that picked up the array of colors, and centerpieces made of unique-shaped bottles with more fairy lights inside, arranged on a splash of silver confetti. The sum of it all illustrated the “Art Lights Up Lives” theme perfectly.

The townspeople of Dragonfly Lake had embraced the event and sold out the three-hundred-ticket fundraiser to benefit arts in education. They’d shown up in summery cocktail dresses for the women, a wide range of attire for the men, and good spirits. I’d finally settled on a short sequined fuchsia dress with a halter-style neckline, because I couldn’t wear a boring black dress to an event celebrating color.




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