At a Charity Auction, My Husband Sold My Best Friend the Seven Days He Promised Me novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Number Three-Seventeen
Shelby buys the seven days Neil promised Bethany, he walks onstage with his packed bag, and Bethany leaves to find her walnut wall already parked at Shelby's house.
My best friend Shelby, who had spent the whole dinner refilling my water glass, raised her gold paddle and bought seven days of my husband for twenty-five thousand dollars.
"Twenty-five thousand!" she called across the ballroom, laughing, and blew me a kiss.
Applause rolled through the tables.
Neil sat beside me, clapped twice, and smiled across the room at her.
Five minutes earlier, he had sat in that same chair with his arm along the back of mine and told me the auction item was nothing.
"It's a volunteer thing, Beth," he had said. "Somebody wins, I fix a few things at their house. It won't touch the store move."
I had believed him, because the move was Monday.
Loom & Lantern was leaving the narrow storefront I had rented for seven years and opening in a real studio with north windows.
Neil had promised to bring a company truck at seven, carry in the walnut display wall and hang the lights himself.
Every day from moving day to opening day already had a job on the calendar on our refrigerator, in his handwriting.
The auctioneer held up a card. "Now the details on tonight's most unusual lot. The Seven-Day Home Reset, donated by Neil Holbrook of Holbrook Homeworks."
A photo filled the screen over the stage.
Neil stood outside a finished house with his sleeves rolled up and a tape measure in his hand.
Someone whistled.
"The winner gets seven straight days of work on her home," the auctioneer said, "and Mr. Holbrook stays at the house until the final reveal party on Sunday."
I turned to look at my husband.
"Stays?" I said.
"That's just the wording." He patted my knee. "The crew does the work. I'll be home every night."
His gym bag was on the floor by his shoe.
He had zipped it that morning and told me it was for the gym.
In my purse, under my lipstick, was a pregnancy test with two pink lines.
I had waited four years to hold one.
I had taken it that morning, and I planned to tell Neil in the car on the way home.
Only one person knew.
Shelby had waited in the car outside the pharmacy on Thursday while I bought it.
At nine that morning I had texted her a photo of the test with six exclamation points, and she had sent back a row of hearts.
She had been my best friend since our first week of college.
She had carried boxes for me all Thursday afternoon, and she had given me a label maker for the new studio.
Now she stood by her table holding up the paddle, and her grandmother's plain gold ring flashed on her right hand under the chandelier.
"Sold," said the auctioneer, "to number three-seventeen!"
Neil stood up and slung the gym bag onto his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Up there for the photo. Two minutes."
He walked to the stage.
Shelby met him at the steps, and he hugged her in front of every donor in the room and held on.
The camera over the stage put them on the big screen, his hand spread across her back.
A woman at the next table leaned toward me. "Your husband is so generous. You must be so proud."
My phone buzzed in my hand.
It was the evening summary from the Holbrook Homeworks fleet app, which I had on my phone because my name was on the company papers.
Truck 4, Monday, 7:00 a.m. Reservation changed by Neil Holbrook at 6:12 p.m.
New destination: 212 Larch Street.
Load: walnut display wall, studio lighting, sample racks.
I had drawn that wall myself, on the back of a takeout menu, nine months ago.
He had told me it was for my studio.
On the screen over the stage, Shelby laughed and laid her cheek on his shoulder.
Neil did not look at the table where I sat.
So I picked up my purse, got up, and walked out of the ballroom while they were still taking photos.
In the parking lot I opened the fleet app and tapped Truck 4.
The map showed a blue dot on Larch Street.
It had been parked there since six o'clock.
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