Highest Bidder

2. Hunter

2

HUNTER

The exit door of the building slams, distancing myself from this jerk of a man as frustration vibrates through me. Some welcome. When Griffin brought me up in front of a room full of men, my sights zeroed in on Myles. I didn’t know who he was, but he stood out. He towered over everyone and pierced me with those eyes. I couldn’t stop myself from looking him over. His defined muscles in his arms and shoulders were pronounced in his long sleeve button-up shirt. Wearing a worn hat on top of his short brown hair, his chiseled jaw dusted with facial hair. I thought it was my lucky day when Griffin introduced him as my ringman. But then he opened his big mouth, proving not all men are gentlemen. It’s too much to hope for the whole package—someone good-looking and nice. Now I want to smack his attractive face. It probably wouldn’t be the best move on my first day. But seriously? What kind of welcome was that?

I came here knowing I would have assholes to deal with. It comes with the job, but that was ridiculous. Just because my dad is the best doesn’t mean everyone is nice to me. They’re usually only nice when he is within sight, but I can handle myself. I came because I was tired of living in my dad’s shadow. I wanted to make him proud and make a name for myself without his help. But once I said I was leaving, Dad was already talking to someone about a job for me before our conversation ended. I told him I wanted to do it myself, but he’s so protective. He also knew I needed to get out of a bad situation with my ex-boyfriend. He’s always been on my side. So when the job offers started rolling in, I knew it was all because of him. The first one came from an auction in New York. I didn’t hesitate turning it down, knowing it would be too cold for me. When Manheim Orlando called however, it was impossible to say no. I know not everyone has this opportunity or the connections, so I’m determined to be something.

I realize I’m still staring after Myles when I hear someone clear their throat. It startles me, bringing me back to the present. “Hi. I’m JT Moore. Sorry about that guy.” He juts his chin toward where Myles disappeared. “His pet frog bit him this morning.”

I look at him, shocked. Then we burst out laughing. I hardly noticed the man standing next to Myles until he stormed off. Now that he has my attention, I see JT is a tall, hunky man. He has the type of body you get by working hard. There’s no way he got all those muscles from the gym alone. He has sandy brown hair that ends right above his shoulders. Half of his hair is up in a small man bun. I have never seen someone pull off the look, but he definitely can. There’s a fun type of twinkle in his eyes, like he doesn’t like to take things too seriously. He stands there casually, thumbs laced in his belt loops, and acts like he has nowhere else to be.

“Hey, JT. I’m used to it, although I was hoping I’d get lucky and have a decent ringman.” I pause, looking in the direction Myles fled, then back to JT. “I don’t need him, though.” That’s an understatement. I don’t. I was thrown to the wolves—the dealers, ringmen, and other auctioneers—on a regular basis to see if I had what it takes to make it. They aren’t known for pleasantries.

“Oh, you’re the new auctioneer.” He nods, understanding written across his face as his gaze flashes to the doors then back to me. “Myles will be on the lane. You can count on that. He’s a damn good ringman too. He just”—JT pauses, pressing his lips into a straight line—“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight. He thinks you took his job. So he’s a little sore.”

Did I take his job? I guess most ringmen are waiting for their chance, but they’re usually a little more professional, unlike the guy I just saw. He could still surprise me though.

“Well, if he’s so good, why would they allow a woman to come in and take a spot that should’ve been his? Sure, I have my dad’s last name, but it means nothing at all to the car auction world.” I lightly poke his chest a couple of times and add, “But in a male-dominated industry, it doesn’t seem likely.” I stare at him. These men will walk all over me unless I stand my ground and make my confidence clear. Yes, a phone call got me in the door, but I’m the one who makes sure they keep calling me back because I’m damn good at what I do.

He blinks a few times, then smirks. “I guess you’re right.” Rubbing his chin, he chuckles. “I like you.” He returns the gesture with a poke to my shoulder. “Alright, do you want me to actually show you around?”

I like JT, but I don’t need anyone’s help.

“No thanks. I can handle it. Thanks, though.” I have plenty of time to get my bearings. I’d rather just take a look at the lane I’m running and then grab food in the cafeteria. I smile at him and walk out the door.

I push on the heavy glass door that leads outside to the lanes. The large ceiling fans whip my hair around my face, forcing me to capture it between my hands until I’m past the force of the draft. I breathe in the strong car exhaust and rubber smells as I walk down the row of lanes. Massive garage doors are on either side so cars can pass straight through as they are slowly shown. Looking toward an auction block on the left side, I see an auctioneer standing behind a counter a few feet above the main floor. A low rumble turns into a piercing screech as he tests the microphone. The block clerk next to him clicks a few buttons as the TV screens flicker to life, ready to display the prices for each car.

The hot Florida air surrounds me as I continue down the lanes. Many pairs of eyes shoot in my direction, flipping my stomach with unease at the unwanted attention. What I’m not used to is the absence of my dad. I pause once I get to my lane and let it all sink in. This is my chance. I can do this. There’s no doubt in my mind. The only issue rests with the men staring at me. If I don’t at least get a few of them on my side, then it won’t matter how good I am. I’ll be gone before I even get a chance. I walk toward the auction block to where I’ll sit. Someone comes barreling around the corner and plows me over, causing me to fall hard on my ass. Fuck! That hurt!

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

I got knocked to the ground pretty hard. Thankfully, I’m wearing jeans, so I didn’t flash anyone in the fall. I start to get up and blink a few times out of shock. I brush my hands across my butt and legs to get any dirt off. That’s going to leave a bruise.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Readjusting my white blouse and jeans, I look up at the girl who whacked me with her enormous purse. “Hello. I’m Hunter,” I say, reaching out my hand, but she grabs me by the shoulders and squeezes me tight. Okay, what is happening right now?

“Oh, my god! When they said someone named Hunter was our new auctioneer, I assumed it would be a man. I can’t believe it! I came here right away to get everything set up for the new man whose ass I was going to have to kiss. But you’re a girl! I’m excited! Who knew these people had the balls to go against the grain and hire a female auctioneer? Oh God. I’m talking too much.” The girl covers her face with her hands. “I get this way when I’m nervous. I guess even though you aren’t a guy, I still might need to kiss your ass, so you don’t bury me today. Oh!”— she sticks her hand out— “I’m Jess, by the way.” She finally stops speaking and gives a small smile.

I blink a few times. I don’t think I saw her take a breath in the whole spiel, but who am I to judge? She must keep the money I say on the screen, so the dealers know exactly what I’m selling and can see the latest bid amount. So she’s sort of like an auctioneer’s scribe.

I shake her hand. “Um, no, please don’t kiss my ass . But I’m assuming you’re my block clerk?” She nods. “Okay, have you worked this lane before? Anything I should know? I’m not sure my ringman will be much help.” Again, that’s an understatement. I’m not even sure if the asshole will show up.

“Oh, you met Myles!” I swear I see stars in her eyes, and I fight the urge to roll mine. “He is so great! Kind of a loner, but he’s close with a few other auctioneers and ringmen. Um, the lane is pretty much standard. We start at 9 a.m., and it’s usually finished by noon, if not sooner. Depending on how quickly you want it to go. There’s usually a lot of action on both the floor and online. So the screen up there will show when I have an internet bidder.”

She gestures to a TV screen hung on a lane divider. I imagine all the microphones blaring to life as the auctioneers begin their chat. The noise roars from the speakers, bouncing off the walls. I can picture the lane across from me trying to compete with how fast we go. I’ll send my car out first, but they may sell their vehicle before I can say, “sold.” The lane dividers stretch toward the ground to help keep the sound on the appropriate lane. Though it won’t completely block out neighboring lane commotion. I can still yell to the auctioneer across from me as we challenge each other.

Jess continues, “I’ll also point it out if you don’t see it. The toyota seller”—she points to an older man with a clipboard and a furrowed brow, standing right outside the door—“will stand next to you and show you the amount they need to sell the car. ”

Not all cars sell, unfortunately. You need a dealer or auction rep standing with you to show how much they can sell the car for. On this lane, the auction rep will point to the number on the run list that I have to get to sell.

I admire her long rainbow-striped maxi skirt. It takes guts to wear such a bold look. Her blonde hair is wrapped in a messy bun on top of her head. She has large, brown eyes with long eyelashes. “Of course, you know all this.” Jess fidgets with her large purse. She’s gorgeous with a good amount of quirky. Her energy level is unmatched. Maybe I’ll have at least one friend here. Other block clerks I’ve worked with are usually not very happy that I’m a woman, or that I don’t like to slow down. I’m not a jerk to them if they miss a bidder number, but I do expect them to keep up. My dad taught me if you don’t keep your lane moving, then the seller isn’t happy. If your seller isn’t happy, then you shouldn’t be happy. Since I don’t have a reputation here yet, I want to start on the right foot with my team. So far it hasn’t panned out with my ringman. But I’m hoping my block clerk and I will be able to flow.

Block clerks are used to auctioneers, ringmen, and dealers not being the friendliest to them. Since auctioneers are the ones responsible for selling the dealer’s inventory, and block clerks just process the sale, they don’t see any reason to give a shit about the clerk sitting on the auction block. That’s not always the case, but I know they always have their walls up just in case.

“Thank you for the tips. I won’t keep you. I’ll see you back here when the lane is about to start.” Giving her a friendly smile, I go up the stairs. Scanning the lanes, the calm before the storm finally gives me a moment to take a breath and be thankful for making it this far. Soon, dealers will be running from lane to lane to bid on different cars. The speakers will blare so loud that your head will ache when it’s quiet. Then the cars will drive through, and I will attempt to sell over three hundred of them in three hours .

I've been doing this since I learned how to talk, so I rarely get nervous. But this is my first job away from my dad, and the butterflies have made a home in my stomach. I still remember my dad teaching me how to sell a teddy bear or candy to anyone who would listen. He always said, “It doesn’t matter what you sell, auctioneers should be able to sell anything.” He used to sneak me into his jobs, and I would watch him, amazed.

My mom never wanted this life for me. In fact, if she had it her way, I would be married off by now. She still thinks I should have stayed with my ex, Steve. He was always a kiss-ass and didn’t care about me other than how he could use me to get to my dad. Steve’s the main reason my dad didn’t hesitate to help me leave. My mom doesn’t know what he’s actually like, doesn’t believe me is more like it. He was always the perfect gentleman, until he had a few drinks in him. Then everyone needed to steer clear.

He showed me his true colors one night, and I got the heck out of there. I just packed my things and left. I wanted to get out of Oklahoma City anyway and this auction position was the perfect opportunity. I know my dad was sad about me leaving. Also, he doesn’t care as much for car auctions; his heart is with cattle auctions. But we looked before coming, and there weren’t many around. Car auctions are way more common than cattle auctions though. And if I want to make a living doing this, I can’t be picky starting out. But I’m going to try to find a cattle auction myself. He would be excited if I were selling cattle. It would be like a little piece of home.