Webs

Chapter 4: Don't Be Late

SOPHIA P.O.V

I sunk into my chair, at the top of the table, reserved for Diane and myself. A couple sat across our table. Diane being Diane, got acquainted with them. That should be my job, I know, but I couldn’t shake off Alex from my mind. It didn’t help that his face stood out from the crowd. Phew…

“Your work is impressive, although I’m not sure I approve of the open bar.” His words played in my head.

Who the hell did he think he was? Talking about my work like that. And on top of it all, he acted as if he hadn’t met me before. I was fuming all over.

“How did you get to know him?” I asked Diane, who was caught off guard. “Sorry,” I apologized to the couple who seemed taken aback. Well, it’s to be expected, that wasn’t polite of me. “I am so sorry, but this is very important.”

It was. To me.

“How do you know him?”

“Know who, Soph?” She looked oblivious.

Who else could I be referring to? She was up to one of her games, for sure.

“What? I really don’t know who you are talking about. If you are talking about Mr. Fields, I didn’t know him before we sat together at this table. Maybe a ‘thank you for helping me do my job, you are the best friend I could ever wish for’ would be nice rather than ‘Why are you helping me save my ass’ mm?”

Ugh.

“I don’t care about any stupid Mr. Fields!”

Oh, oh. My face was soaked in pink, embarrassed by the words I blurted out. I sucked my lips in, almost an inaudible way of apologizing while refusing to spare anyone else a glance. Could today be any worse? God!

I rolled my pupils. The ache didn’t matter, I had to catch a glimpse of the couple’s thoughts. Okayyy… maybe my luck had just turned around.

“You are an i***t, you know that right?” Diane cut through my thoughts. “You are lucky they are engrossed in whatever has caught their attention. What is wrong with you? This is unlike you. First, your finger. Which you have refus…” I cut in immediately, “The car jerk.”

She didn’t need to ask me the question, her face wrote the word boldly.

“The guy you introduced me to. Alex Murphy? He is responsible for that. He is such an ass.” I looked down at my phone carefully placed on the table. It looked ugly. Another wave of anger surged through me.

“How?”

“Um… he opened his car door.”

Diane squinted at me, urging me on. “That can’t be the whole thing, Soph, or is it?”

“I was scared. I mean…”

“Come on, Soph. How can a man opening his car door cause your finger to bleed? Usually, I am the one coming up with excuses. And not even me would be this silly.”

“That was what he said! Why are you taking his side? He caused it and he told me to my face that I was stupid after laughing at me.” I tried my hardest to lower my voice.

What? Why was she laughing?

“Come on, Soph, we have to listen now. The auction has started.”

“…can I get two thousand dollars?” That was all I could hear. I guess the rich did speak another language to us all.

As the evening progressed, I found myself increasingly drawn to Alex. Each second after another, I glanced in his direction. He seemed to be invested in the auctions.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now offering a rare and exquisite antique Persian rug. The hand-knotted masterpiece dates back centuries and features intricate designs in vibrant hues. It is a true collector’s item. Starting bid: five thousand dollars.”

“I see seven thousand dollars, do I hear eight thousand?”

Wow. A billionaire’s kid indeed. Alex raised a bid of eight thousand. For a rug.

“Come on folks, this rug is a steal at that price!”

What! I should have charged more for this event. I turned around and Alex again upped his bid to eight thousand, five hundred.

“Eight thousand, five hundred dollars. Thank you, sir. Anyone? Nine thousand? Nine thousand is the offer. Do I hear ten thousand?”

My eyes darted to see if he raised his tablet again, but he didn’t. I sighed.

“Ten thousand. I have ten thousand dollars. Going once… going twice… Sold! Congratulations to bidder three. This beautiful Persian rug is yours.”

The blonde, elderly woman smiled as the crowd applauded. Maybe I was right after all… Nothing like an open bar in an auction!

“Next up, we have a stunning diamond necklace. This necklace features a flawless three-carat diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds. It’s a piece of jewellery that will be the envy of all your friends...” The auctioneer’s voice faded. I was lost in the beauty of the jewellery. This is what ten thousand should get you. “Starting bid: twenty thousand dollars.”

Twenty?!

Alex’s hand went up.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars. Do I hear thirty? Come on ladies, this necklace is a must-have.”

A must-have indeed. I raised my tablet.

“Thirty-two thousand…”

“What the hell are you doing?” Diane dragged my hand down. “Thirty-two grand!”

“I love it, Di.”

“We have thirty-five thousand. Anyone? Forty? Forty thousand is the offer. Good. Thank you, sir.” Alex again!

“Forty-two thousand.” Mrs. Fields joined in.

“Fifty-five. Wow. Thank you, sir.”

What was he doing?! He didn’t have to raise the bar so high! I scribbled furiously on my tab.

“What are you doing, Soph? Soph!”

I may not have the money, but I was not going to back down. Especially, not against him.

“Fifty-one thousand. Do I hear fifty-five thousand?”

Alex shot a glare at me. It was my turn to smirk, and I couldn’t be more satisfied about it. Good for you, jerk!

“Sixty thousand. Bidder five.” I forgot I wasn’t alone against him. I felt distraught. Could I go any higher? Maybe I could negotiate a truce with Mrs. Fields?

“One hundred and fifty thousand U.S dollars!” Gaps echoed around the hall, and rightfully so. Mine was the loudest. Who went up from fifty thousand to one-fifty? I knew he was a jerk, I guess now I know he is also crazy.

“Any better offer? Anyone?”

Come on Mrs. Fields, do this for us. Girl power. I made my best you-cannot-reject-me face.

“One-fifty thousand dollars. Going once…” the bagel was close to being hit. You could see the excitement on the auctioneer’s face. “Sold!”

Damn. Car jerk, three – Sophia, nil. I felt sick.

“Maybe Alex was right,” Diane whispered in my ears. I looked over to his table. I had never been more disgusted by a smirk. He was the star of the evening, and he knew it.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere in the room became more relaxed. People began to dance, and the laughter grew louder. I was alone, watching the crowd, and enjoying the sight of people enjoying themselves.

Mr. Ford was a touching distance away, I needed to make an impression. I extended my arm, using it as a blotting paper for my breath. “Hmm, not bad.”

“Congratulations on a successful event.”

Mr. Ford turned around to face me. “Uh, thank you. And you are?”

“Um, my name is Sophia Thompson. Your team reached out to me to handle this event.” I hope I wasn’t smiling like a creep. “Hmm,” he responded. He looked uninterested in pursuing the topic further, and in the nick of time, the star of the evening stepped in.

“Hello, Mr. Ford…” Alex swooped in, reveling in the opportunity to have one over me… again. Car jerk, four – Sophia, nil. I looked stupid, watching on, and forcing a smile whenever either spared me a glance. I stood – frozen to the spot – for what looked like the whole evening. Thank God for the glass of champagne in my hand.

“You seem… lost.” Alex said. I looked behind him, Mr. Ford had left. Many guests to appreciate I guess.

“It’s my event. Why are you here?” I asked curtly, my heart pounding in my chest. “I see you don’t take kindly to criticism. Isn’t that bad for someone in your field? Or you are just not used to being corrected?”

I stared blankly ahead, his words reminded me of my mom. It was a dark place I buried. “Congratulations on flaunting your wealth. You seemed very, very insistent on securing the jewelry. Now I know for sure you are a billionaire’s kid. But isn’t that too much showmanship for some necklace?”

He blinked rapidly almost like he was stung by the subject. Wow. The invincible Alex Murphy wasn’t so invincible after all.

He scoffed, his smile patronizing. “Seems you are a girl easily impressed by showmanship. If you had a better head on your shoulders, maybe I would take you home.”

The corners of my eyes stung. My legs rooted to the spot. The room once filled with loud chatter and laughter, faded into a distant, hollow echo as I watched his retreating figure disappear from my sight. My phone buzzed with an incoming text: “Meet me at the Rooftop bar on Friday by 8:00 PM. Don’t be late.”