We stood by the steps of the auction stage. Over a hundred VIPs filled the Beverly Hills Four Seasons’ Culina Caffè, a sea of pre-auction buzz surrounding us.

Diya searched the crowd for the sixty-something ex-wrestler who owned a string of luxury car dealerships in Cali. “Anastasia?”

“New one.” The night was looking better by the minute, and I focused on that. I couldn’t think about my deal with Trey and Diya to buy them out, or I’d panic. Further discussion, and saner numbers, would have to wait until we were at home tonight. A whole other battle for which I had to gird myself.

Diya finally found Zigler’s table. “You think someday he’ll graduate to women old enough so they don’t have to buy their drinks with a fake ID?”

“I’m just glad he brought her.” Zigler always bid more when he had a mistress on his arm. And he bid the most when the mistress was new. “Maybe he’s a Charlie Chaplin fan and he’ll go for the set of original movie reels.”

“Remember when he dropped a hundred grand on that guillotine?”

A working guillotine, from the set of a surprisingly popular French arthouse film. “I almost fell off the stage.”

I signaled to our sound guy, and he switched the music from sedate jazz to a brain-pounding rendition of Start Me Up from the Rolling Stones. Everyone fell silent, simply because they couldn’t talk over the beat.

I conquered the steps.

This is my auction.

I am in control of my room.

I strode forward.

The stage, my red auction hammer, and the five-inch heels on my red pumps lent me authority. At five-five, I wasn’t given an imposing stature, but I had excellent balance. I could have walked across those planks in stilts. The universe giveth, and the universe taketh away.

Another discreet hand signal, and the music faded. Into the sudden silence, I said, “Welcome, distinguished ladies and gentlemen. We’re all here today to support Senator Rutger’s campaign. Bid early, bid often. Don’t be shy.”

Most of our guests put down their glasses. They were ready to roll. I could deal with the few who weren’t. We always had a certain percentage who only came for the entertainment—nobody liked freebies more than the rich. The auction was of the champagne-and-canapés format. I didn’t do elaborate dinners where participants focused too much on their food. I didn’t like having to fight for their attention.

“I’m sure you already have your favorites picked out in today’s catalogue.” I zipped along before anyone could become distracted. “But I’m happy to announce that we have a handful of surprise items that will make you giddy. So let’s start with one of those.”