Auction House

I woke up at six-thirty, and the boat was quiet.

Dressing in my workout clothes, I headed to the upper-level deck and the exercise machines next to the outdoor dining room. I started on the treadmill, stretching out at a slower pace for five minutes before beginning my interval training routine. By the time another forty-five minutes was up, I was glistening and panting for breath.

I rolled out the pad and started my yoga routine, stretching out sore muscles as I watched the sun rising over the mountains. The marina was quiet, the parties from last night over. I waved back at an older gentleman who was sitting on his yacht drinking coffee with his morning paper. I had time, so I pulled the cover back on the two-person hot tub and lowered myself in. I left my bike shorts and top on, as the marina was too exposed to go nude. I’d already seen photos of us taken from the parking lot or other boats, and there was no screening around the hot tub.

I pulled out my phone and started looking through messages; there weren’t many. One of the first things I did after getting a publicist was to get a new phone number, linked to her account. Anything sent to me that wasn’t from one of my approved contact numbers went to her first and was forwarded if I needed to see it. The Three Sisters werewolf with the job was good at her work; she would send responses to fan letters, handle press inquiries, and pass security threats to Fiona from the comfort of her home office. Mercedes offset part of her expense, while I picked up the rest.

Linda had worked with Mercedes to firm up our travel schedule and sent me the dates and places where we would be able to shoot our diving spots during the tour. I’d befriended dozens of scientists and shark researchers through aquarium visits, charitable work, and the two documentaries, so I started with that list of people and composed an email. After a brief introduction to our all-female concept, I got to the meat of the letter.

“I’ve formed a new company, Sharkbait Productions, Inc, and will be filming segments at different stops during our Bodyglove modeling tour for a shark-diving-based reality show. I’m looking for local female shark experts in these areas who would be willing to host the four of us for a day of diving at a local shark hotspot. We would bring the film crew, including underwater camera operators, and we would hire the boat and crew or pay for expenses that day. Either scuba or free-diving would be welcomed based on local conditions. The expert featured on each episode, along with any boat crew shown, would be paid for their appearance and would be provided with Bodyglove line clothing for the shoot. Please pass this email on if you know of someone who can help, and we will contact them directly. Thank you, Vicki Lawrence, Producer.” Below the letter was the list of locations and dates.

I sent the email from the Sharkbait Productions account that Linda and I used. I figured it might take a while, as almost all of my contacts were in the United States and Hawaii, but I was wrong. I had the first response before I got out of the hot tub.

“Got room in there for another,” Kai asked as he came up the stairs.

“Sure. Where’s Amy?”

“Sleeping.” Kai pulled off his shirt and lowered himself in wearing his board shorts. The water level rose to the top, some sloshing over with the jets. “Damn, that feels good.”

I couldn’t help noticing his body; he was in great shape when they mated, but SEAL training had it at another level. He wasn’t bulky, as they didn’t build muscles that way, he was strong, with incredible endurance. I could see the various cuts, abrasions, and bruises he’d picked up during the week. “How is training going?”

“The only easy day was yesterday,” he said as he closed his eyes. “It never lets up. It was a good week; nobody injured, and nobody rang out.” They made it easy to quit, a bell in the courtyard was in view for most training. Ring the bell, and you’d get a hot meal, a cot, and a ticket to do something else in the Fleet. Out of a class of a hundred and forty-six, only twenty-six remained, and they were a little over halfway through the first phase of their training. In a few weeks, they’d be training full-time with no days off for two months.

“How are you handling your sisters finding their mates?”

“I’m better about it this morning,” he said. “Amy and I had a long talk. The girls already knew them, and their human sides liked them a lot, which is better than most mates get. I barely knew Amy before our wolves bonded. It also helps that I know the guys, and I know they’ll treat them right.”

“Did you talk to your parents?”

“Yeah, we called last night after you went to bed. They were surprised but happy. After they didn’t find their mates in the Pack, they were sure they were going to be moving out of the region to be with whoever their new mates were. The two could even get split up for the first time in their lives. Having human mates adds some different problems, but they will stay with Three Sisters and stay home.”

“You guys could get assigned to Little Creek in Virginia, on the other side of the country.”

“True, or we could be here. It’s also likely we end up on different teams in different places, with different deployment and training schedules. We’ll work it out. Mom understands that when the guys deploy their mates can return home. She’ll see the girls more this way than if they mated into another Pack.”

“And Amy?”

“That depends on what happens with her Mom and Hammer. If everyone stays here, Amy will stay with you or her Mom when I’m gone. She could also go back to Three Sisters or Miesville.”

I saw Amy come up in her exercise clothes, and she kissed her mate before heading to the treadmill for her workout. “What are you guys planning today,” I asked.

“The girls want to go shopping,” he said. “Susan is coming, so Hammer will be along.”

“Go early, so the crowds aren’t as bad,” I said. “I’ll have the Tank and both of my bodyguards, so hire a limo and security if you need it. I’ll cover it.” Amy wasn’t as high-profile as I was, and there would be four SEALS with them, but a driver would be worth it. “Talk to Mall security, or better yet, avoid the malls and go to individual stores. A quick call and you can arrange to shop while the store is closed to the public. Linda has contacts at the stores we normally use.” After-hours shopping was the best, and I spent enough to make it worthwhile.

“Good idea,” he said.

“I’ll be back late tonight, and you guys can come to the Sunday buffet at the Hotel del Coronado tomorrow if you want.” The spread there was fantastic, one of the best I’d ever seen. “Admiral Kirk invited me, Hammer, Commander Prentice, and his daughter Jessica out on his dive boat for the afternoon.” I’d never turn down a diving trip, and Jessica reminded me of myself when I was twelve. I’d make her day by diving with her.

“You should see if you can bring a camera operator, plus a few Go-Pros,” Amy said. I looked up, shocked to think about it. “Why not? There’s no starting time, and it would be great for the show. Hell, you should have a camera following you around tonight.”

“The auction isn’t part of the show,” I said.

“It could be. You’re going to be there with the rich and famous, and you’ll be wearing something hot. You can’t use the film you don’t make,” Amy said.

She was right. “The invitation allows me to bring a guest, and it didn’t ban cameras,” I thought out loud. I made a quick call to Linda and asked her about it. “I can’t distract my security, so whoever it is will have to go as my date,” I told her.

“It’s kind of late, but let me see what I can do,” she said.

While I was waiting, I called up Admiral Kirk. If he wasn’t willing to have a camera aboard, there was no point in calling Mark Prentice. “Admiral Kirk, it’s Vicki Lawrence. I have a favor to ask for our dive trip tomorrow.” I quickly explained how I’d like to take the chance to get some film of me diving with Jessica and the guys tomorrow.

“I don’t mind at all. It gives you something to do while waiting for official permission to film on the base. Last I heard, your request was approved through the Navy and is with the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs.”

“I only have a few weeks before we leave, but I’d love to get something arranged for after the New Year,” I said. “A day or two of filming should give us plenty of material for a show.”

“Well, Mykayla decided not to go, so I’ve got room for two photographers on this trip if you can make it happen.”

“Thank you, Thomas. I’ll talk to Mark and make sure he’s all right with it. I’ll see you at the dock in La Jolla at noon tomorrow, and I’m buying dinner.”

“I won’t turn down a free dinner,” he said. “Have a good auction.”

My next call was to Commander Prentice, the SEAL Team CO I’d met at the party right before James got run off the road. The phone was answered by Jessica, who squealed in happiness when she heard me say who was calling. “Jessica, can you get your Dad for me?”

“Sure, he’s in his Man Cave,” she said.

I heard her going down the hall before the phone got handed off. “Vicki?”

“Hi Mark, sorry to bother you, but I have a question for the two of you about tomorrow. You know I’m going to be filming a reality show about modeling and diving?”

“The Admiral talked about it, said you were going to be filming next year,” he said.

“Well, I’m getting ready for production, and Amy asked me why I wasn’t filming our dive tomorrow. I don’t need permission since the dive is on personal time, but I will need yours.” A few minutes later, we had it all figured out. He and the Admiral would sign film releases, but Jessica would get paid for her appearance, the money going towards her college fund.

By the time I was showered and dressed, Linda had arranged camera operators for the auction and the dive tomorrow. My ‘date’ for tonight was Bill Carson, who would meet me there.

I got in the Tank with Fiona when Carly drove to the Marina gate. I traveled in shorts and a T-shirt, working on my laptop during the two-hour drive north on Interstate Five to Los Angeles. The tinted glass allowed me to change along the way, and I put on my minimal makeup when we stopped at traffic lights. When we pulled up to the auction house off Santa Monica Boulevard in Beverly Hills, the media was waiting for us.

I’d texted Bill when we were a few blocks away, and I could see him on the stairs with his camera. “I’ll get out first, and you follow me in,” Fiona said. “Don’t worry about Bill; he is just here to film. Keep your eyes open, smile, and if anything happens?”

“Get back to the Tank,” I said.

“Exactly.” She and Carly got out first, on the street side, walking around the back where she met Sotheby’s security. A brief conversation later, and she was opening the door.

I put a leg out, showing a mile of tanned skin as I carefully moved so I wouldn’t flash my underwear to the dozens of cameras outside. My dress was tight, hugging my curves as Mr. Ferguson helped me exit. Carly stayed with the car, Fiona moved to the side, and I smiled and posed for the photographers before walking inside with the Director of the Los Angeles Office.

I toured the exhibition briefly, then went to his office to sign some paperwork before the viewing started at noon. The collection had been available on the web for weeks, and on display for the last three days. “Excitement is building about the collection,” he said. “The details we’ve found and verified since you consigned the pieces have pushed up the estimates.”

“Are there any expected to reach seven figures,” I asked.

He indicated five. I picked one, a classic tiger-maple clawfoot highboy and lowboy set. “This one is for charity, to the Shark Conservation Fund,” I said.

The viewing was like nothing I’d ever attended; the Hollywood elite and California wealthy were out in force. Everyone wanted a moment of my time, and some of the men wanted more than that. I was young, rich, and beautiful in a place that wanted all three. I received numerous invitations to parties, most of which I declined due to my work schedule. I couldn’t drink the champagne, and I wanted to chow down on the appetizers, but I didn’t. I had to focus on the sale and the cameras.

I sat off to the side as the sale began, Fiona standing against the wall behind me. There were fifty-two items in the sale catalog I had in my hand. The first painting sold at twice the auction estimate, and it just went from there. Bidders on phones kept raising their paddles, eager to purchase items that had never publicly sold until now. When the Goddard and Townsend highboy/lowboy auction came up, I spoke briefly about the proceeds going towards shark conservation. It didn’t matter; the previously unknown set was in perfect condition after over two centuries, and the price quickly climbed past a million. It finally sold for 1.45 million dollars.

I was keeping a rough count in my head two hours later, and the numbers far exceeded my dreams. I accepted congratulations and thanked many of the guests as they left, finally ending up back in the office. “What is my total takehome,” I asked Mr. Ferguson.

“First off, Sotheby’s is pleased to waive our premium for the charitable sale. The foundation will receive the full amount in your name by next week.”

“That’s very generous, thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, that was one of the most exciting sales in memory,” he said. Looking at his computer, he showed me the screen total. “Total sales excluding the donated items were $19.28 million, less the 13.8% sale premium, is $16.62 million to you.” Even with the State and Federal taxes, I’d clear nine million dollars for myself, bumping my net worth up over twenty-four million.

I was going to need a bigger accountant.