CW: D/s, bondage, spanking, toys.
***
The champagne had gone straight to Mia's head as she waited for her turn to be called to the auction block. She had expected that by going last, enough of the audience would have bled off to the terrace to smoke or to the quieter side rooms to talk business with whoever they bought for the weekend. Instead they'd hung around near the stage to see what the next bid went for and to which charity.
The practice of only including men in the charity auction was demeaning and outdated to Mia and she had had to point out to the board and the organizers that it was nowhere in the official rules of the charity auction that the services had to be auctioned off by man. They conceded her point and Mia had put a weekend of her marketing consultation services up for auction for the new shelter for Street Youth. Only now had it occurred to her how disheartening it would be to walk out and have no one bid.
A man nearly a foot taller than Mia adjusted his chef's whites in the mirror backstage. "What did you say you did? Are you a coach?" He asked her.
Mia couldn't remember the name of the chef, only that he owned Saffron, a new farm to table in the rapidly gentrifying east end. He might have thought coach if he'd seen her last presentation at the networking event last month about the importance of mentorship in the workplace, though she couldn't imagine him sitting through her whole talk, if any.
"Marketing actually," Mia told him, emptying her third glass.
"Brave of you with that," said the chef, picking a tiny black thread from his shoulders.
Mia frowned. "And why is it brave?"
"What I do for people has an indisputable value. Ingredients. My time. My skill. No debating it. Marketing's not really like that. Give someone all the help in the world polishing a turd and it's still a turd and your skills are worthless. Only as good as the client, see, and you don't pick the client here. They pick you, spend money before they see results, see? Brave if you ask me."
The MC called Leigh Boback and the chef left Mia alone backstage to second guess herself yet again. Chef Boback was collecting a charity that taught inner city kids culinary skills and he quickly raised a few hundred dollars.
Mia had spent the previous night at the networking event stumping for her charity but now felt convinced she would be humiliated on stage. Boback was right, what she did didn't necessarily have any meaningful ROI if the product was terrible. Or if the client was too stubborn to listen. It was too late to jam out now. She heard applause. Boback would have left the stage with his buyer.
Mia caught a quick glance of herself in the mirror. Long flowing brown hair, full face of makeup without any crazy colors or lipstick on her teeth. Bottle green wrap dress that cinched at the waist. Three inch nude pumps. Simple but put together.
The MC announced her name and the name of her marketing agency, Signet. That she was raising money for the Street Youth shelter and that she was offering two days of full service, personalized branding consultation and strategy development.
The stage lights were hot and blinding and from the stage Mia could only see a crowd of more than a hundred gathered around the stage. The opening bids were small but at least they came. Twenty dollars. Forty. Up to sixty. And all women from the voices in the crowd but Mia couldn't see them clearly either from the brightness of the stage.
The figures climbed slowly past the one hundred dollar mark and Mia felt herself start to relax. No matter what happened now she was safe. She'd raised some money for something important and the money spent was reasonable, appropriate for her services.
Then Mia heard a voice, deep and resonant, say something from the crowd that she couldn't quite understand until the MC repeated it. A figure. Five thousand. The MC actually laughed and some of the audience clapped, presumably because of the large donation. The MC asks for other bidders but of course there's no one. The Entrepreneur's Starlight Auction draws some wealthier and better established business owners, but is primarily for new business owners in need of financing and networking. To pay so much for a single service was hardly typical. Mia heard the rustle of a few dozen whispers exchanged from the audience but she couldn't see the bidder.
"Five thousand dollars, sold to the Shane Helm, owner of Verve Nutrition."
Shane Helm. Mia had spoken to him a handful of times at different association events in the past year. She let the MC usher her off stage and down to the crowds watching. She scanned the crowd and saw him, a spit polished version of the man she'd encountered a few times before. He was tall with broad shoulders and long limbs. His navy suit was tailored to fit him perfectly. His piercing blue eyes were visible from across the room as he watched her walk to him, still dazzled by the spotlights.
"Good evening, Mia," he greeted her as the MC made the final remarks and the crowd applauded. "You look lovely in green."
Mia smiled and hugged Shane, breathing him in as she held him close. She smelled the soap on his skin, some other fragrance as well, whether it was cologne or aftershave or something else. When she released him she squeezed his arm gently. She could hide her attraction with a blander, friendlier type of flirtation.
"I can't thank you enough for your generosity, Shane," said Mia. "I'm so flattered you were willing to make such a contribution to the shelter tonight."
Shane put his hand on Mia's back and led her slowly, away from the crowd and towards the terrace overlooking the glittering moonlit bay. "It's such a worthy cause."
They chatted lightly for nearly a half hour. Apparently Shane's company, Verve Nutrition, had just acquired three large and key clients out east and the company would have to expand more rapidly than anticipated to keep up with demand. Mia remembered from a meet and greet months back that Shane was unmarried, no kids. Initially she wondered if he was gay and discrete but Mia dismissed that now. The way he steered her slowly along the terrace didn't feel companionate. It felt...possessive. Why would man like Shane Helm want possess her she wondered. Still, Mia reveled in his seemingly casual touches.
"Still with what's his name?" Shane asked, stealing a glance at Mia's left hand. Her engagement ring was gone and Shane found himself remembering her presumably ex-fiance's name. "Dan?"
"Dan? Nope, he's dead now." Mia deadpanned long enough for Shane's smirk start to transform into a look of confusion. It impressed her that he remembered her fiance's name from just a few conversations. She saved him with a smile. "He wanted more attention than I could give him."
Shane was quiet for a moment. "Sorry," he said finally. "I shouldn't joke. It's really unfortunate."
Mia smiled awkwardly. "Better before the expensive party then after."
"Oh, agreed. I just meant it's unfortunate that he would want to marry someone hoping they'd change their life and priorities for him."
Mia stared at Shane, wishing she could taste his mouth on hers. "Maybe. Marriage is compromise. I'm probably too selfish."
Shane eyed her and Mia couldn't tell is Shane was undressing her with his eyes or not. She hoped so. "There are other kinds of meaningful partnerships," he told her. "Do you want to get out of here?"
"Now?" Mia checked her phone. It was just after nine. That left way too many hours out for a drink or alone back at home with Shane. He could be an ax murderer for all she knew, but for more likely she'd just try to make sex happen, get awkward, and need an uber back from snob hill at two in the morning.
"Yes now," Shane said. "I got what I came here for."
Arousal so strong it felt like a punch in the gut hit Mia and she stared past Shane, trying to keep her expression neutral. It didn't sound like he was after her services.
"If I go with you, where are we going?"
Shane smirked again. "When you come with me, we're going back to my place."
Mia would be lying if she said she didn't like Shane's insistence. On another man she would have gone and found security. With Shane she felt challenged rather than threatened. "What makes you so sure of yourself?"
"Because, Mia, I think you want the Street Youth shelter to receive my donation. And the weekend with you is the cost of that donation. You don't have to get in the car with me but if you don't, there are other worthy causes."
His words hit Mia like a slap in the face. "You're leveraging homeless street kids at me? That's pretty barbaric."
"I'm not leveraging anything. I donated plenty already tonight, mostly to the women's shelter on 51st Avenue. No one has to know you backed out of it, apart from the organizers. If you're not comfortable with my offer, that's okay Mia. I understand."
He did sound understanding, Mia thought, though she was crestfallen. She didn't even really know why she was saying no. It wasn't like she didn't want him. And she wanted to help the street kids as well. There was no reason to be reluctant apart from fear of inadequacy.
Shane leaned forward to kiss her cheek, his lips lingering a moment longer than they might otherwise have done. "I'm going to do a round before I go. I'll be about twenty minutes. If you change your mind before I leave, come find me."
He left Mia alone on the terrace and returned to the gala to make his excuses.
Mia waited a moment for him to enter and tehn headed back in as well, except this time to the bathroom. The stalls were oversized and luxurious. She splashed some cold water on her wrists and checked her phone out of nervous habit. A message from a kinky dating app from someone she didn't know.
"I've changed my mind, Mia. I want seven days, not a weekend. Only come to me if you think you can handle that."
