As Taylor Hathaway stood in the small salon off the ballroom in the upscale Georgetown hotel, she wanted to smack her fellow volunteer across his drunken, masked face. An hour ago, he’d arrived sober. Now, he was totally inebriated and completely incapable of emceeing the event.

“I kin totally do this, Tayyy-lor-r-r.” Spencer swayed and snickered. “No prob.”

Taylor grabbed the microphone, made sure it was switched off, and pointed. “Sit in that chair. Do not move.”

For the past several months, Taylor had poured every free moment into this fundraiser. As a volunteer for Walk a Mile in My Shoes, she wanted the evening to garner as much money as possible for the DC-based charity.

Melissa Rodriguez, Walk a Mile’s executive director, lined up the auction participants before bee-lining over. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s shit-faced.” Taylor bit back a scream. “There’s no way he can stand up in front of an audience and manage to say anything coherent.”

“Can he read the index cards?” Melissa asked.

The two women eyed Spencer. He sat on the floor, propped against the wall, laughing hysterically.

“Does that answer your question?” Taylor said. “Ohmygod, this is bad. What are we going to do?”

Melissa peeked into the ballroom. “The good news is that we’re standing-room only. The bad is that we don’t have a plan B.” With her hands on her hips, she eyed Taylor. “I’ve got it. You’re going to emcee.”

Adrenaline spiked through her. “What? No way. I can’t get up in front of those people.” Taylor thrust the mic at Melissa. “You’re cool, calm, and the executive director. You do it.”

Refusing to take the microphone, Melissa crossed her arms. “I have to manage everything else. That includes making sure our bachelors and bachelorettes don’t get drunk while they’re waiting to go onstage.”

Taylor’s hands grew clammy while her heart hammered in her chest. “I…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

With a scowl, the director surveyed the other volunteers. “I don’t trust anyone else like I trust you. We don’t have a choice.” She stepped close and put her arm around Taylor. “Sweetie, the guests will be focused on our bachelors and bachelorettes. And they’ve been tossing back a few.” She shot Spencer a dirty look. “Hopefully, not that much, but maybe enough to be generous with their bids. We set a goal to raise twenty-five thousand dollars in one night. That money can help a lot of people. You can help a lot of people, Taylor.”

Taylor didn’t want to let anyone down, but Melissa was asking the impossible. “I cannot—as in, no way—stand in front of that crowd, let alone speak to them. I’m a nervous wreck just thinking about it.” She shoved her shaking hand in Melissa’s face.

“You look phenomenal.” Melissa stepped back to examine Taylor. “All glammed up is definitely your thing. Your updo is stunning. Who’s going to recognize you in that mask, anyway? Pretend you’re someone else.”

“Melissa, I can’t do this.”

“You’re poised.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re fierce, like a lioness.”

“Hardly. I’m a mouse.”

Melissa adjusted her own mask before grasping Taylor’s arm. “This is your opportunity to do something really wonderful for a group of individuals who are counting on us. All you have to do is read what’s on these cards. Please, Taylor, I’m begging you.”

Peering through the door at the audience, Taylor murmured, “I’m going to pass out.” She sucked in a shaky breath, unable to stop trembling.

“Taylor, look at me.” Melissa squeezed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Life is all about making bold choices. Make this moment bold.”

Before Taylor had a chance to dig her stilettos into the carpet, Melissa walked her into the ballroom and up on stage. Forcing herself to peek at the audience, Taylor grew rigid. Row after row of guests filled the ballroom. Most wore masquerade masks and everyone was dressed to impress. Ohmygod, ohmygod. Breathe.

Melissa grasped Taylor’s hand, still cemented around the mic, raised it to her mouth, and flipped the switch. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Melissa grinned at the waiting crowd. “I’m Melissa Rodriguez, executive director for Walk a Mile in My Shoes, and this is my gorgeous cohost—”

“Raven,” Taylor blurted into the mic. Her heart thundered so hard she couldn’t hear anything else. “W-w-we’re all here because we—” Her mind blanked.

“Yes, that’s right, Raven. Homelessness affects more than just those in need of a jumpstart. Tonight, your generosity will make a positive difference by helping them get back on their feet. We have gorgeous bachelors and bachelorettes who are generously auctioning themselves for a date with you.” Melissa grinned at the audience. “Bid a lot and bid big. Are you ready to get this party started?”

“Yes!” the group shouted, applauding enthusiastically.

“Then, let’s do this.” Melissa let go of Taylor’s hand, and the mic clunked onto the stage.

Mortified, Taylor snatched it up. Melissa handed her the stack of index cards before hurrying offstage.

Gaping at the audience, she struggled for words. Two hundred guests packed the room. All eyes on her. The cards. Use the cards. She shifted her gaze to the short stack in her unsteady hand and willed herself to speak.

“First up is…” Her upper lip quivered. She took a few steps and her ankle wobbled in the stiletto. She stumbled, but kept herself from falling flat on her face. Several in the audience laughed. This is beyond humiliating. Then, Taylor thought of her Auntie Patty and how proud she’d be. If only she could push past her fear. Do this for her. Do this for Patty.

The cards shook in her quaking hand, but she forced herself to read the words printed on them. “Our first bachelor is sure to be a hit.”

The cued music began while a handsome man in a dark suit emerged onstage and struck a model’s pose.

“Trevor is all muscle and no fat,” Taylor continued reading. “He’s ready to talk about scuba diving or take you on a mountain hike. And if your muscles are sore at the end of the day, he’s more than happy to rub the tension away—Oh my, who can resist that?—Bidding starts at five hundred dollars, but this fine man is worth much more than that.”

Though she sounded stilted and she still hadn’t smiled, her trembling had subsided a little. The focus of attention had shifted to Trevor, who strutted across the stage like he owned it.

A woman seated in the second row, wearing a feathered masquerade mask, raised her hand. “Five hundred.”

Muscles running down Taylor’s shoulders loosened. “Thank you. How about six hundred?”

Another hand shot up. “Six.”

“Thank you. Do I hear seven-fifty?”

Trevor removed his suit jacket, draped it over his shoulder, and struck a different pose. Hoots and hollers filled the room.

Bidding for this bachelor stopped at one thousand. They’d never reach their goal at this rate, but the event had just started. Trevor left the stage as the first bachelorette strolled on. Taylor envied her confident smile and sexy catwalk.

I’m Raven. No one knows me. Taylor forced a smile before reading the card. “Delaney is a pediatrician by day, but if you play your date right, she’ll play doctor with you at night. Let’s start the bidding at eight hundred.”

* * *

Jagger didn’t want to take his eyes off the pretty emcee, but he had to make sure someone could cover for him when his guests arrived. After receiving confirmation that his VP of global sales was waiting in Jagger’s suite, he replied that he’d been detained.

Initially, he’d wanted to jump onstage and hold Raven’s hand, put his arm around her—anything—to help calm her down. Current bidding on the first bachelorette had reached two thousand dollars. That seemed to bolster Raven’s confidence. Her tight shoulders relaxed and her quivering voice subsided.

Though in heels, she appeared about average height. But there was nothing else average about her. Even from the back of the room, he liked what he saw. Dark bangs covered her forehead and an ornate masquerade mask framed her eyes. He appreciated her elegant neck and bare shoulders. Her black gown hugged her figure and he wanted a closer look. As an avid runner, he was a sucker for a lean, muscular woman, and the lovely Raven fit the bill to a T.

“She’s lovely,” he murmured under his breath.

“Throw out a bid,” Maverick said as he leaned against the back wall.

“I’m talking about the emcee.”

“Hmm, I figured you’d go for the one parading around on stage.”

“No. There’s something about Raven…” With a smile, Jagger shrugged.

“Be right back.” After punching Jagger’s shoulder, Maverick left the ballroom.

Several minutes later, Maverick returned. Jagger tossed his friend a nod, but his attention was diverted when Raven squealed. A round of chuckles floated through the audience. The current bachelor, wearing tuxedo pants and suspenders over his bare chest, had whisked her into his arms.

“Thank you, Sven,” Raven said. “Why don’t you show off those big muscles for the ladies, but put me down first.”

Another wave of laughter filled the room.

As the bachelor flexed and posed like Mr. Universe, Raven read his stats from the card. When the bidding stopped at twenty-nine hundred, her smile lit up her face.

A wave of heat infused Jagger’s chest. She’s adorable.

The next bachelorette moseyed onto the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mattie is open to an evening with either gender. So, if a beautiful blonde with a passion for dogs is something you’re interested in, I urge you to raise your hand and be generous with your bid.”

“I like doggie style.” Maverick’s booming voice filled the ballroom. He stepped up behind the last row and threw up his arm. “Three thousand.”

Raven’s jubilant grin sent adrenaline shooting through Jagger. Damn, she’s hot.

The intense bidding continued, until a masked woman won with a bid of forty-five hundred. Maverick returned to his spot against the wall beside Jagger.

“Why didn’t you bid to win?” Jagger whispered.

With a casual shrug, Maverick said, “Didn’t want her that badly. Thought it would be fun to up the bidding, though.”

Over the next thirty minutes, Jagger stayed focused on Raven. She’d calmed down enough to lend her personality to the auction. In addition to making the audience laugh, she kept the event moving along.

After the show, he wanted to introduce himself, but he had to get upstairs. According to a recent text from his VP, several guests were anxious to see him. Jagger could only make them wait so long before they’d leave, taking their valuable business with them.

“Congratulations to the winners and let’s put our hands together for our amazing bachelors and bachelorettes,” Raven said. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your generosity. For everyone at Walk a Mile, we are so grateful. Homelessness is a problem that we can solve together. You’re welcome to stay in the ballroom or continue your party at the hotel bar. Would the winners please rendezvous in the salon behind me? You can meet your date and exchange contact information.”

“Wait!” Melissa hurried onstage and snatched the mic. “Someone was added with a starting bid of five thousand!”

“Great,” Raven exclaimed. “Could that person join us on stage?”

“It’s you.” With an exuberant smile, Melissa addressed the audience. “Before we start the bidding, please help me thank Raven for emceeing. Didn’t she do a fantastic job?”

While Melissa led the audience in applause, Jagger pushed off the wall.

“Gentlemen, this is your opportunity to spend time with one of the sweetest, smartest and most generous women I know,” Melissa continued. “And she’s beautiful, too. Take off your mask so our audience can see who they’re bidding on.”

“My mask?” Taylor squeaked out.

Melissa nodded.

As Taylor removed her mask, her confidence fizzled. She hadn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she had no interest in going on one with a stranger.

“Do I hear a bid of fifty-one hundred?” Melissa began.

“Happy birthday, Jagger.” Maverick nudged him. “Place your bid or you’ll lose her.”

“Fifty-one,” yelled a masked man seated near the front.

“Six thousand,” called another.

“Jesus, do I have to bid for you?” Maverick thrust Jagger forward.

Now standing behind the last row, Jagger raised his hand. “Sixty-five.”

“Seven,” hollered the first man.

“Seventy-eight,” Jagger replied.

“Eight,” said the first man.

“Nine,” Jagger shouted.

“Ten,” the other bidder yelled.

Jagger had had enough. Time to shut down this bidding war. “Twenty.”

The room went silent. Everyone spun in their seats. Jagger’s smile was more reactionary than sincere. He’d stunned himself. It’s not like he didn’t have the money, it was more about the fact that he wasn’t about to let Raven get away.

“Great Zeus!” Melissa exclaimed.

Raven’s mouth dropped open.

“Going once,” Melissa said. “Going twice.” She paused. “Going thrice to the handsome gentleman standing in the back.”

“Ohmygod,” Raven murmured, the mic catching her shock.

“That was one hell of a finale, wouldn’t you agree?” Melissa asked, and the audience broke into laughter and applause.

When the room quieted down, Melissa continued. “On behalf of Walk a Mile in My Shoes, we are extremely thankful. One hundred percent of tonight’s proceeds are earmarked for the homeless. Please check our website to track where your donation goes and for those who would like to pledge a donation, we welcome any and all contributions. No amount is too small. Again, for those who’ve won, please join us in the salon. Thank you, safe travels, and good night.” And with that, Melissa switched off the mic.

Maverick slapped Jagger on the back. “I’m happy to split this with you. I didn’t think that guy would push you like that.”

“It’s not about the money,” Jagger said. “What in the hell possessed you to do that?”

“After listening to you at dinner, I wanted to get you something special for your birthday. Happy birthday, brother. Let’s go meet Raven.”