Smiling, she said, “My women’s club is holding a bachelor auction to raise money for an addition to the enlisted widows’ home, and I was hoping that you’d agree to be one of the bachelors we could auction off.”
“Excuse me?”
He could not have heard her right. She wanted him to be auctioned off? No, that was not possible. Why would anyone want to spend good money on him? Even for charity. He was, now, and always had been, a quiet, smart guy. Not quite a geek, but close enough. Hell, he even wore glasses. He’d heard about the kinds of guys they used for those charity things. They were celebrities, hunks. Hell, they knew the right things to say in those kinds of situations. They knew how to talk to women. He was more comfortable programming a computer.
“You heard me, Radar. I want you to be one of our eligible bachelors. You are eligible, aren’t you? You haven’t gotten engaged or married since we chatted at the Christmas party last year, have you? You aren’t going out with anyone special?”
“No, ma’am,” Ray said, still shocked by the woman’s request. “Are you sure you want me?” There had been quite a marriage boom in his squadron recently, and Ray supposed that Mrs. Harbeson had been forced to scrape pretty close to the bottom of the proverbial barrel. Why else would she be asking him to participate?
Mrs. Harbeson’s request had him sweating suddenly, and Ray wiped his damp hands on the legs of his BDU—his battle dress uniform. He was sweating because he was actually seriously considering accepting. Maybe the shot he’d had earlier had affected his brain.
“Yes, Radar,” Mrs. Harbeson said. “I think you’d be perfect for this assignment.”
Considering that a request from his commander’s wife was as good as an order from her husband, he’d best accept, he thought. Even if it was against his better judgment. Besides, he might actually meet someone interesting.
Yeah, right.
“All right, ma’am. You’ve got your bachelor.” Ray turned to the colonel who had been strangely silent during this weird conversation. “Do you need me for anything else, sir?”
The colonel grinned. “Nothing, Ray. Marianne will fill you in on the details later. Thanks.”
Ray stepped out of the office.
“Oh, and Radar,” the colonel called. “Send Sergeant Murphey in to see me.”
“Yes, sir,” Ray said. And he promptly hurried out to find his buddy Danny Murphey, who, apparently, was about to get pressed into service as well.
“I DON’T CARE if you do have two tickets, Aunt Myrt. I will not participate in that disgusting example of sexism,” Patsy Pritchard told her aunt emphatically as she watched Myrtle primp for the Women’s Auxiliary Bachelor Auction and Dinner.
Patsy knew exactly what her Aunt Myrtle was up to, and she wasn’t about to encourage her in any way. “If, or when, I decide to start dating again, I’ll do it on my own terms, not because I had to buy someone to take me out.”
“But, Patricia, it’s been years since your husband died. A beautiful young woman like you shouldn’t be sitting at home alone at night with her cats. You need to be out having fun, seeing people.”
Not that again, Patsy protested to herself. Why couldn’t Aunt Myrtle understand that she was perfectly happy with the way things were? “I am not a hermit. I see plenty of people every day.” She paused, then went on when it looked as if Aunt Myrtle was going to object. “And I know perfectly well that when you say people, you mean men. I have a job where I see men daily. If I wanted to go out, I would not have any problems getting a date,” she said archly.
Not that she wanted any. Now that men had pretty much given up asking, she was perfectly happy with the status quo. Most of the time.
She’d had a man. She’d had a husband and a family. She wasn’t ready to replace them. She and Ace had been head over heels in love, and it had been too hard to lose him. She’d become a widow at twenty-one when Ace and the kids had been killed in a traffic accident. It had been a blow she’d very nearly not gotten over. “Besides, they’re your cats. I have a dog.”
Myrtle positioned her red pillbox hat over her gray-and-white streaked Gibson-girl upswept bun and secured it with a hat pin. Setting the scarlet-colored ostrich plume at a jaunty angle, she glanced in the oval mirror above the table by the front door and fussed with the ruffle of her purple silk blouse. She pinched her cheeks and smacked her lips to spread her fire engine red lipstick. “I’m ready.” She turned to Patsy and posed. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
“Not a chance. You give that other ticket to someone else.”
“DAMN, I FEEL LIKE a gorilla in this monkey suit,” Ray grumbled as he and Danny made last-minute adjustments to their formal “dress-mess” uniforms backstage before the auction. Thank goodness they’d been permitted to wear those rather than the tuxedos he’d heard some of the other bachelors were wearing. At least, he and Danny wouldn’t look like penguins.
While Ray viewed the event as nothing short of torture, Murph actually seemed to be looking forward to it. Of course, Danny’s prowess with women was legendary, and he’d even lived with a woman for a while. Ray hadn’t had any such experience to fall back on. As far as he was concerned, this was worse than any military inspection he’d ever endured.
He stuck a finger under the collar of his uniform and tried to loosen it. He had opted for the clip-on version of the regulation black bow tie, but his shirt collar was still tight against his Adam’s apple.
“Stop fidgeting,” Mrs. Harbeson said, appearing suddenly, and Ray snapped to attention. “You look very handsome, Radar. I am so glad you wore your good glasses.”
“I only wear the B.C. glasses on duty,” he said.
Mrs. Harbeson smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. Now relax. Have a good time. I expect you to bring the Auxiliary a good price.”
“I’ll do the best I can, Mrs. H.” Ray had finally relaxed enough to begin calling Mrs. Harbeson that, which she seemed to prefer to ma’am.
She turned to Danny. “You look handsome as ever tonight, Danny. Will you try to get Radar to loosen up for me, though?”
Danny grinned. “Doing my best, Marianne. But you have to know that I’m going to bring in the most money. Can’t let Ray Darling outdo the Irish Don Juan.”
Someone called to Mrs. Harbeson. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. Chuckling to herself, she hurried away to see what the other woman wanted.
“What say, Radar? You think you’ll do better than me in this auction?”
“Don’t know, but are you interested in making a friendly little bet?” One that Ray was certain to lose. Murph was known for his way with women.
“You got it in one, my man,” Danny said, his green Irish eyes smiling. “Loser has to spring for a case for the team.”
“You’re on. Just bear in mind that I get to pick the brew if I win.” Ray grinned. “And I go for the imported stuff.”
“Yeah, right,” Danny snorted. “You
