He should have been happy about it – flattered, really. But when the evening of his company was sold to the highest bidder in a room full of rich (and crazy – who would spend that much money on a book, or him?) women (and one man), Richard Castle could not have been less excited. Whoever won would have to be a raving lunatic-fan, and that sort of socializing was only tolerable to him in minimal doses.
It was a silent auction, but his mother made sure to appropriate his time, introducing him to many wealthy couples, prospective valuable connections, and squealing women so that he didn't have a spare moment to check the list for his item or to even glance over to see who stopped by. He was hopeful that, because his date was rarely in his company for the duration of the evening, she might have stolen a moment to put in an offer.
The winning bid of twenty-four thousand dollars went to a Louise Marsh.
She was attractive – very attractive, actually – but Castle couldn't bring himself to offer her more than a smile and a "Would you please excuse me for one moment?"
He zigzagged through the mass of bodies laughing and swirling around champagne, grabbed his mother by the elbow and pulled her away from the crowd.
"Hello, darling," she said mystically. "How are you and your top bidder getting along?"
"Oh, just great," Castle said grandly. "I really owe you one for this."
"Oh, it was my pleasure," Martha hummed under her breath, nudging her son in the ribs gently with her elbow.
"No, I will get you back for this," Castle promised quietly. He paused. "Listen, I wanted to ask you."
"What's that, dear?"
"Did... well... I mean... you know, was there a certain detective on the list of bidders?"
Martha smiled kindly, patting her son sympathetically on the shoulder. "No dear," she said, "there was no Kate Beckett anywhere on the list."
Castle sighed. "I hardly thought so." He looked over his shoulder at his new date, who flashed him a fingertip wave and a tantalizing smile. He nodded back and began to return to her company. After a few steps, he whirled back around to face his mother. "Just out of curiosity," he asked quickly, "who was the second runner-up to Ms. Marsh?"
"Oh, gosh, what was her name?" Martha whispered. "Nikki Heat?"
