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The woman is wildly intelligent. Watching her bring a boardroom of men to their knees is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. She’s curious and confident yet humble and kind. And she doesn’t give a damn about what she should and shouldn’t do. She does what she wants.

Unfortunately, that can’t be me.

Bianca looks up. Her green eyes shine when they connect with mine.

Shit.

“ Hey ,” she says, mouthing the word from across the room.

I struggle to remain unaffected, but the corners of my lips lift. She notices. She always finds the chink in my armor. A smile creeps over her pink pout, hitting me directly in the cock.

Get yourself together, Carmichael.

“Going once, going twice—a date with Miguel is sold to Mrs. Daniels for twelve hundred dollars!” Gloria announces.

My brows pull together as Jason, Bianca’s brother and my best friend—my only friend—enters the building. His solemn expression is replaced with amusement as he realizes what he’s about to witness.

I flash him a pointed look to watch himself. It only makes him laugh.

Maybe I don’t like him either .

“Next up is Colin,” Gloria says. “Let’s start the bidding at five hundred. Do I see six?”

Jason and Bianca take a seat in the back row. He folds his hands on his lap like he’s settling in for a show. She takes a bid paddle from the raffle ticket lady.

This is the nail in Banksy’s coffin.

“I have six,” Gloria says. “Do I see seven?”

Bianca’s eyes find mine again.

“There’s seven. Do I have eight?” Gloria asks.

Bianca lifts a brow, pressing her lips together.

What does that mean? Do you want a date with Colin?

As if she reads my mind, she raises her paddle.

I raise a brow back.

“There’s eight. Do I have nine?” Gloria asks the room.

Bianca shrugs innocently, daring me to react. But I don’t. And I won’t.

She might get under my skin like no one I’ve met before, but I refuse to cross that line.

I was the lead on her security detail for two and a half years, and for two and a half years the woman whittled away at my restraint.

It’s impossible to resist her. Her little smile and the way her nose wrinkles when she’s being cheeky.

Her penchant for burgers and vanilla shakes.

Her perfume and her ability to wear a T-shirt and cocktail dress with the same understated elegance.

The way she says my name .

Our relationship shifted over time. It began strictly professionally before transitioning to more of a friendship. And then, during the past six months, we were toeing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Conversations weren’t strictly business. Smiles were exchanged when no one was looking. Our touches lingered long after contact should’ve been broken.

I wasn’t thinking of her as my boss. I was thinking about her bent over her desk. I was imagining her in my bed wearing my T-shirt. I had visions of her in my truck, her hand in mine, doing mundane tasks like running errands.

But it was harmless. It was simply a war inside me that I was winning.

And then one night changed everything. That’s the night six months ago that I asked for an immediate transfer … and I haven’t seen her privately since.

“Sold! A date with Colin to Mrs. Breckenridge for one thousand one hundred dollars.” Gloria peeks around the others and smiles at me. “I’m starting the bid on our final bachelor with a bid of my own at five hundred dollars. Do I have six hundred for Foxx?”

All eyes land on me. I’m not sure where to look.

I don’t want to see my family laughing; I want to like them tomorrow.

I can’t look at Banks because I’ll be tempted to leap off the stage and beat his ass right here.

I don’t want to look at anyone bidding, lest they think I want them to spend their hard-earned dollars on a date with me.

And I sure as hell don’t want to make eye contact with Bianca.

“Six hundred from Marla in the front,” Gloria says. “Do I have seven?”

Various paddles shoot to the ceiling. And they stay there .

Gloria laughs. “I see. Let’s go to eight hundred?” The paddles remain in the air. “Nine? One thousand? One thousand one hundred?”

What the hell is happening ?

“Fifteen hundred!” Marla grabs her walker to brace herself. “I bid fifteen hundred.”

“Okay. Sixteen hundred, anyone?” Gloria asks. “Yes! I have sixteen hundred from the lady in the back.”

Heads turn to the back of the room. Bianca sits tall in her seat, proudly waving her paddle.

I look at Jason in surprise. He shrugs as if there’s nothing he can do. I send him a silent message to stop her. But instead of intervening like I’ve seen him do countless times in both private and combat situations, he defers.

He’s helpless and at the mercy of his baby sister.

“Seventeen hundred!” Marla shouts, her voice wavering from the force of her words.

“Eighteen hundred,” Bianca fires back.

“Two thousand,” Marla says, her hands shaking. She narrows her eyes at Bianca.

Out of my periphery, I notice Banks snickering.

“Two thousand, two hundred.” Bianca’s voice is edgier than before as she stares Marla down. “I bid two thousand, two hundred dollars.”

Jason gets up and stands behind her, holding his forehead.

“Two thousand, three hundred,” Marla says.

“Twenty-five hundred.”

Heads swing from one side of the room to the other as bids volley back and forth.

Marla scoots her walker around so she’s face-to-face with Bianca. “Twenty-seven hundred.”

“Twenty-eight,” Bianca says easily.

Marla’s finger shakes as she points at her adversary. “Respect your elders, missy!” Her gaze whips to Gloria. “ Three thousand .”

“Someone stop this,” I mumble.

Bianca stands, holding her paddle in the air, and levels her gaze at Marla. “Ten thousand dollars.”

What did she just say ?

Gasps echo through the room.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Gloria says, the microphone squealing. “Did you just bid ten thousand dollars ?”

Bianca smiles sheepishly. “It’s for charity, right?”

Marla flops in her chair, defeated.

Applause breaks out as Gloria struggles through her shock, her gaze switching between Bianca and me. I feel like Gloria expects me to say something, but I have nothing to say other than what the fuck just happened ?

My head spins.

I exit the stage, ignoring curious looks from the audience as everyone gets up to leave.

I came for pie.

Pie.

What went so wrong?

My feet falter, and I stop just short of where my brother and I stood only minutes ago.

Banks.

Banks is what went wrong.

I growl into the air.

Today can’t possibly get any worse.

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