Read Online You Don't Know Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance by Georgia le Carre - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Georgia le Carre
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everything they touch. The green carpets look sea blue, and the canopy ceiling is full of little light reflections that create the stunning effect of stars glittering in a summer night sky. The tall candelabras on every table hold aloft orangey red cups of light.
Our table is close to the stage and midway between the entrance and the dance area. We take our seats and the Queen caviar is brought to the table on dry ice. I throw back the Vodka and let the salty bubbles explode on my tongue as we listen to the speeches from the patron of the charity thanking the sponsors of the evening.
My father didn’t come, but he is one of them, and since I am his representative, I smile and nod when his name is mentioned and the camera pans on me. After a slideshow depicting the different projects the charity has undertaken to help the disadvantaged children of Russia, it is time for the highlight of the evening.
The curtain draws open and the spotlight falls on Alexander Malenkov, the object of Lina’s unrequited lust. I have never heard him play, but the moment he touches the keys the entire audience falls so silent you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. He plays with great passion and true skill and I must admit I am awed by his performance. When he plays his last note and stands to take a bow, all of us spontaneously give him a standing ovation.
The curtains close on him and food is served. The food is delicious of course, but I find myself pushing the food around my plate and pretending to eat. I keep thinking that this is what my life is going to be after I marry Oliver. An endless string of the same type of empty functions with the kind of people I have nothing in common with. After I have play-acted consuming the dessert, the last event of the night begins.
The Precious Items Auction is where the guests take off their jewelry or personal items like watches and wallets, and give them up to be auctioned. The items are not collected beforehand, but donated on the spot together with the little receipts that have been left on each table describing the item in as much detail as possible for the auctioneer together with a suggested starting price.
One of the ladies at our table bequeaths her pearl necklace, another offers her rose-gold bracelet, and I take off my emerald and platinum earrings and place them on the platter.
The auction starts with Lady Schloss’s Cartier watch. On the screen behind the podium, a blown-up 36 0 image of the watch is shown. The starting price is £2,000.00. After a lively bidding it goes to her husband for £5,700.00. The same process is more or less repeated for nearly every woman who gives up her jewelry for auction. Her husband or fiancé ends up winning it back for her. It is all good-natured fun and a bit of charity included.
Then it is my earrings.
‘Kindly donated by Miss Tasha Evanoff,’ the auctioneer announces. ‘A pair of perfectly cut, flawless Brazilian emeralds set in platinum. Each perfect emerald is 4.5 carats.’
He lifts his hand.
‘Let’s start the bidding of at £5,000. Do I hear any takers? Yes, we have. To the gentleman at the back. At the side here. £5,500. Do I hear £6,000. Yes, we have £6,000. £6,500. £7,000 to the gentleman at the back. £7,500 to the gentleman in the red tie over at the side. £8,000. We have £8,500. This is a rare opportunity to buy a truly exquisite pair of earrings. £9,000. £9,500. £10,000. £10,500. Come on ladies and gentlemen. This is all for a good cause. Well done, we have £11,000 in the front. Anymore bids?’
He looks around hopefully.
‘Going once. Going twice.’ He nods at Oliver who has just raised his hand. ‘Thank you, Sir. We have £11,500.’
I smile sweetly at Oliver. All eyes are on us and we are both playing the part of a couple deeply in love.
‘Any more bids for this rare and magnificent pair of earrings?’ The auctioneer raises his hammer. ‘Oh, looks like a new bidder has entered the fray.
Our table is close to the stage and midway between the entrance and the dance area. We take our seats and the Queen caviar is brought to the table on dry ice. I throw back the Vodka and let the salty bubbles explode on my tongue as we listen to the speeches from the patron of the charity thanking the sponsors of the evening.
My father didn’t come, but he is one of them, and since I am his representative, I smile and nod when his name is mentioned and the camera pans on me. After a slideshow depicting the different projects the charity has undertaken to help the disadvantaged children of Russia, it is time for the highlight of the evening.
The curtain draws open and the spotlight falls on Alexander Malenkov, the object of Lina’s unrequited lust. I have never heard him play, but the moment he touches the keys the entire audience falls so silent you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. He plays with great passion and true skill and I must admit I am awed by his performance. When he plays his last note and stands to take a bow, all of us spontaneously give him a standing ovation.
The curtains close on him and food is served. The food is delicious of course, but I find myself pushing the food around my plate and pretending to eat. I keep thinking that this is what my life is going to be after I marry Oliver. An endless string of the same type of empty functions with the kind of people I have nothing in common with. After I have play-acted consuming the dessert, the last event of the night begins.
The Precious Items Auction is where the guests take off their jewelry or personal items like watches and wallets, and give them up to be auctioned. The items are not collected beforehand, but donated on the spot together with the little receipts that have been left on each table describing the item in as much detail as possible for the auctioneer together with a suggested starting price.
One of the ladies at our table bequeaths her pearl necklace, another offers her rose-gold bracelet, and I take off my emerald and platinum earrings and place them on the platter.
The auction starts with Lady Schloss’s Cartier watch. On the screen behind the podium, a blown-up 36 0 image of the watch is shown. The starting price is £2,000.00. After a lively bidding it goes to her husband for £5,700.00. The same process is more or less repeated for nearly every woman who gives up her jewelry for auction. Her husband or fiancé ends up winning it back for her. It is all good-natured fun and a bit of charity included.
Then it is my earrings.
‘Kindly donated by Miss Tasha Evanoff,’ the auctioneer announces. ‘A pair of perfectly cut, flawless Brazilian emeralds set in platinum. Each perfect emerald is 4.5 carats.’
He lifts his hand.
‘Let’s start the bidding of at £5,000. Do I hear any takers? Yes, we have. To the gentleman at the back. At the side here. £5,500. Do I hear £6,000. Yes, we have £6,000. £6,500. £7,000 to the gentleman at the back. £7,500 to the gentleman in the red tie over at the side. £8,000. We have £8,500. This is a rare opportunity to buy a truly exquisite pair of earrings. £9,000. £9,500. £10,000. £10,500. Come on ladies and gentlemen. This is all for a good cause. Well done, we have £11,000 in the front. Anymore bids?’
He looks around hopefully.
‘Going once. Going twice.’ He nods at Oliver who has just raised his hand. ‘Thank you, Sir. We have £11,500.’
I smile sweetly at Oliver. All eyes are on us and we are both playing the part of a couple deeply in love.
‘Any more bids for this rare and magnificent pair of earrings?’ The auctioneer raises his hammer. ‘Oh, looks like a new bidder has entered the fray.
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