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Face-off

Conor sat back, tossed the bid card onto the table. Someone in the audience let out a disappointed ‘Aw.’ ‘A hundred million dollars. One hundred. Going once.’ The auctioneer dragged out the words, scanning the crowd. I regretted letting Kieran talk me into coming here. I could take the humiliation, the pointed looks, the jeers. But I couldn’t take tossing a hundred million dollars over a necklace. For that kind of money, I could be living in a house built out of caviar and swimming in a river of champagne. ‘Going twice.’ The hammer was raised. ‘Two hundred.’ I almost leapt up from my seat when I heard the unfamiliar voice. Kieran frowned. We both turned, located the new bidder seated two tables behind us. The man in a midnight blue tux looked to be in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven, hair slicked back and meticulously combed. But it was the man next to him that drew my attention. The sexagenarian’s ebony suit contrasted sharply against his snow-white hair. He sat ramrod straight, hands

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