I don’t know why I let Ashlynn talk me into attending this benefit tonight with her. I know it’s for a great cause, but my mind is everywhere but on tonight. Let’s be honest, all I can think about is that precious little boy who is so scared about his surgery on Monday. Bethany Eastwick called me earlier today to let me know that her son was so very scared about going to the hospital. I tried to reassure Jefferson's mom that she and Jefferson had nothing to be worried about and that I’d make sure Jefferson will feel at ease before his surgery.

Open heart surgery isn’t any easier for an adult, but at least they understand what you’re telling them and can make informed decisions based on the information provided. But for a child, no matter how simply you put it, there is no way they will ever grasp the severity of what is to come for them, and that breaks my heart. The only thing that eases my conscience is that I know I’m saving his life and providing the pathway for a long and healthy life. It’s why I chose childhood cardiac care as my specialty.

I stand inside my open closet and scan over the items hanging on the rack. I’m not sure what I want to wear to this event since I know it will be a blend of all social statuses. Do I feel like dressing up or just finding something simple and comfortable to wear? After what feels like forever, I select a sleek LBD and a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos. When I feel like I've mastered my makeup and spritzed myself with a light honeysuckle spray, I’m ready to go.

The parking lot for the Mermaid Winery is full already. Out front of the building stands a man with his clipboard, checking in guests and collecting tickets. When Ashlynn talked me into attending tonight, she had already bought my ticket, and how could I turn her down knowing that she’d be out the money if I did? I walk slowly toward the door, careful not to catch my heel in one of the cracks or crevices of the parking lot. “Good evening, ladies. May I have your tickets?” the mammoth mountain of man asks when we reach the front door. After a quick look at our tickets, we’re allowed to enter.

Ashlynn squeals with excitement when she sees the raffle items available and rushes over to purchase tickets for those items. Just as I’m about to follow behind her, I’m stopped by a very tall waiter holding a mixed hors d'oeuvre tray of gravlax on caraway with a mustard-dill sauce, caviar blinis with crème fraiche, and thinly-sliced salmon. My mouth begins to water just looking at them. “May I interest you in either a blinis or caraway, ma’am?” His voice is smooth and sultry.

“Do you mind if I just take the tray and go hide in a corner” The titter in my voice doesn’t seem to have the impact I was hoping for. “I guess that’s a no then,” I say as I reach for one of each of the tasteful delights as I step around the lanky gentleman and head toward the petite woman holding a tray of champagne.

I find Ashlynn standing in front of the list of bachelor auctions. Each bachelor will be supplying one date; a dossier is on full display of what the date will entail. The names of the bachelors are not disclosed for specific reasons. The dates range everywhere from a trip to Colorado, an exploration of a new amusement park, parasailing, and one that catches my eye called Pamper Me. It’s everything a girl could want but definitely seems too good to be true.

Ashlynn grabs my arm. “Hey, did you see the bachelor who’s offering a pampering date? You could totally use a Pamper Me day. You work way too hard and never do anything for yourself.”

Just as Ashlynn opens her mouth again, I stuff one of the caviar blinis in it, so I don’t have to hear her preach once again about how too much work and no play makes me a stick in the mud most of the time. “I saw the date package, Ash, but I told you, I’m only here for you. I don’t plan on bidding on any of the packages.” Ashlynn rolls her eyes at me, and I poke her in the tit, causing her to cry out. I cringe slightly, realizing that I poked her harder than I meant to. “You know I’m too busy with work to worry about dating right now. Besides, I’m sure that someone will bid an enormous amount for that package. Plus, shopping on Fifth Avenue and a private jet to NY… The guy would have to be completely loaded to afford something like that, which means he’s either old and fat or an arrogant prick. Neither of which I’d want to spend any time with.” Not to mention I have no desire to be in New York.

Ashlynn pokes me back, right square on the nipple. “None of the bachelors will be old and fat, I promise you. Nadine wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

Ashlynn has always been the more optimistic one of the two of us. We both grew up in the Bronx, our families closer than most and hiding more secrets than one could imagine. Whereas Ashlynn is outgoing and strong-willed, I tend to be more introverted and easily persuaded. When we graduated from high school, I picked a college as far away from home as possible, not wanting to be anywhere near my family. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them. No, I cherish them. I just wanted out of the inner circle that came with being the daughter of a mob boss. It wasn’t until my Nonno and Nonna became ill that I moved closer to home. I’d never move back to the city, but being in Virginia gives me easy access if I need to go home but is still far enough away to have my own life. I’m pulled from my reverie by the sound of the master of ceremonies speaking. “Can I get everyone to take their seats, please? The auction will begin in ten minutes.”

“Come on.” Ashlynn grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of the seating. “We want to be in the front row.” That causes me to stop in my tracks, causing Ashlynn to stumble backward. “What, don’t you want to sit in the front, so you can see all the goods these guys have to offer?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine sitting in the middle. You can sit up front if you want. I don’t need to see ‘the goods.’” I make air quotes as I say the last two words.

“Oh, stop being a stick in the mud. Let’s compromise and sit in the third row.”

I shake my head knowing that I’m fighting a losing battle with her. “Fine, third row, but nothing closer.”