The Seven Day Switch by Chronis Meg

Author:Chronis, Meg [Chronis, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780639758008
Publisher: Meg Chronis
Published: 2023-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

18

#It'sRainingMen

“What say we kick off the bidding for our next bachelor at five hundred rand?” The livestock auctioneer roped in by Mrs Abrams for the bachelor auction pointed his gavel at the crowd. There had to be a good two hundred women squeezed in around the tables in the church hall at St Matthew’s, all knocking back tea and champagne and nibbling on baked goods.

An auction paddle shot up at the back and the auctioneer gave his lectern positioned on the stage a mighty rap. “Now do I hear one thousand? Imagine a morning of all-inclusive pampering at the luxurious Brookdale Health Hydro, followed by lunch with our muscled young rugby full-back here. I’m sure our gorgeous MC is itching to put in her own bid, aren’t you, Gem? We all know you can’t resist a rugby player.” The auctioneer winked so hard at Becca it was a wonder his cheek didn’t go into a spasm.

Becca lifted her microphone, with only the faintest tremor to give away how nervous she was. “You got me there, Jeff!” Bit heavy on the enthusiastic game show host. “I’m a sucker for a guy who knows how to handle his—” She snapped her mouth shut, before her babbling tongue could form the last word. Balls? Really, Becca? At a church auction? Did you learn nothing? She left her sentence unfinished and smiled inanely at the audience, attracting a bemused look from the auctioneer.

“Do I hear one thousand five hundred? Remember, we have to hit that target so the underprivileged kiddies get their amazing new playground equipment, so dig deep, ladies.”

The audience was going to have to dig very deep indeed, now that two of the ten bachelors had rushed off to battle a veld fire. At such short notice, Mrs Abrams had insisted it was impossible to find replacements, a word that had rankled the concierge in Becca. But impossible or not, she was not going to get involved. No more well-meaning helping that ended up landing her in ever-deeper piles of crap.

She would just keep her head down and get through this auction. Do not engage concierge mode. After all, she didn’t have any contacts here. Didn’t know anyone. If this was London, she’d simply have consulted her long lists of contacts made over the years, called in some favours and poof, two more bachelors waiting in the wings. But this was not London.

Out in the middle of the stage, the rugby player had his white dress shirt off and was swinging it about by one sleeve over his head like it was a lasso.

“Yee haaaa,” somebody called from the audience, promptly followed by a “Ride ’em, cowboy” that dissolved into giggles.

Cowboy.

Becca twitched as an idea sparked. That was it. The Dallas Cowboy. She did know where they could get a couple of stand-in bachelors after all. But she’d promised herself no more well-intentioned helping. Though what could a phone call hurt? She back-stepped into the wings, leaving the auctioneer to chase up the bids for the preening rugby jock.

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