Chapter 4: The Auction That Never Happened
Chapter 4: The Auction That Never Happened
Madison's bike battery died three blocks from the storage facility.
Of course it did.
She looked at the blinking red light on the handlebars, let out a frustrated sigh, and climbed off.
"Come on," she muttered, pushing the heavy bike down the sidewalk. "Just a little farther."
The March evening air had turned bitter again. Every step felt heavier than the last, fueled by equal parts exhaustion and dread.
Who was trying to buy her mother's belongings?
A debt collector?
Someone who had made a mistake?
Or worse...
Someone who thought old memories could be turned into profit.
Queens Memorial Storage sat between an auto repair shop and a wholesale warehouse.
By the time Madison reached the office, she was soaked from the rain.
The manager, a gray-haired woman named Linda, hurried toward her.
"Thank goodness you're here."
"What's happening?"
Linda lowered her voice.
"They're still waiting."
"They?"
She pointed toward the parking lot.
Three black SUVs.
Madison froze.
She recognized them immediately.
"Oh, no..."
The passenger door opened.
Ethan Prescott stepped out.
He was alone this time.
No photographers.
No security surrounding him.
Just a tall man carrying a plain umbrella.
Madison folded her arms.
"You followed me?"
"I asked where your storage unit was."
"That's called following."
"Fair enough."
She looked past him.
"Are you buying my mother's things?"
"I tried."
Her eyes widened.
"Tried?"
Linda interrupted.
"I refused."
Both of them looked at her.
"The unit belongs to Miss Hayes," Linda said firmly. "Nobody purchases someone else's memories without their permission."
For the first time that day, Ethan smiled.
"I hoped you'd say that."
Madison looked between them, completely confused.
"Can someone explain what's going on?"
Ethan nodded.
"I found out your unit was being auctioned tomorrow."
"So?"
"So I wanted to stop it."
"I don't need rescuing."
"I wasn't trying to rescue you."
"Then what?"
He reached into his coat and handed Linda an envelope.
"I paid the overdue balance."
Madison stared.
"You what?"
Linda quietly slid the receipt across the counter.
Balance Paid in Full.
Amount Due: $412.00
Paid: Prescott Holdings
Madison's face drained of color.
"No."
She pushed the receipt back.
"I can't accept that."
"It's already processed."
"I'll pay you back."
"You can."
She blinked.
"I can?"
"When you're able."
She frowned.
"And if that takes years?"
"Then it takes years."
"No interest?"
"No."
"No contract?"
"No."
"No publicity?"
"No."
Madison looked at him suspiciously.
"Why?"
Ethan answered without hesitation.
"Because my father would never forgive me if I let the woman who helped him lose the last pieces of her mother."
Silence settled over the office.
Linda quietly disappeared into the back room, giving them privacy.
Madison looked at the receipt again.
Her hands trembled.
For two months she'd been living with the fear of losing everything her mother had left behind.
Old photographs.
Letters.
A faded blue quilt.
Christmas ornaments made in elementary school.
Her mother's wedding ring.
Things that had almost no financial value.
But they were her entire history.
Tears gathered in her eyes before she could stop them.
She quickly turned away.
"I don't cry in front of strangers."
"You don't have to."
"I'm not crying."
Ethan politely looked toward the window.
"Understood."
She laughed despite herself.
A small, broken laugh.
"You're pretending not to notice."
"I am."
"You're terrible at it."
"I've had very little practice."
Ten minutes later, Linda unlocked the storage unit.
Dust floated through the air as the metal door rolled upward.
Madison stepped inside.
Every box was exactly where she'd left it.
She knelt beside the first one and carefully lifted the lid.
On top lay a framed photograph.
She and her mother at Coney Island.
Madison was eight years old, missing one front tooth.
Her mother was laughing so hard her eyes were closed.
Madison traced the frame with one finger.
"I thought I was going to lose all of this."
Ethan stayed near the entrance.
He didn't step inside.
It felt too personal.
Instead, he quietly waited.
After a few minutes, Madison pulled a small cardboard box toward her.
Inside were dozens of handwritten recipes.
Chicken soup.
Apple pie.
Lemon bread.
Each card carried her mother's looping handwriting.
She smiled through fresh tears.
"She wrote everything down."
Ethan finally spoke.
"My mother did that too."
Madison looked up.
"You lost your mother?"
"Five years ago."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
For the first time since they'd met, neither of them felt like strangers.
Just two people who understood what it meant to miss someone every day.
As they left the storage facility, Madison stopped beside Ethan's car.
"I owe you an apology."
"You do?"
"I assumed you were trying to buy my gratitude."
"I wasn't."
"I know."
She hesitated.
"I'm still paying you back."
"I never doubted that."
She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small spiral notebook.
"What are you doing?"
"Making a payment schedule."
He couldn't help smiling.
"You carry a debt notebook?"
"I've had practice."
She wrote carefully.
Debt: $412.00
Creditor: Ethan Prescott
Then she tore out the page and handed it to him.
"First payment will be ten dollars next Friday."
He looked at the paper.
"I'll keep this."
"You'd better."
"I've signed much larger contracts."
"This one's more important."
He folded it neatly into his wallet.
"I think you're right."
Across the street, neither of them noticed the man sitting inside a parked sedan.
He lowered a camera after taking several photographs.
Click.
Madison beside Ethan.
Click.
Madison smiling.
Click.
The paid receipt changing hands.
The photographer immediately sent the images to his editor.
Possible Romance?
Billionaire CEO Seen Secretly Meeting Delivery Driver.
Within minutes, gossip websites began preparing headlines.
None of them knew the truth.
None of them cared.
Because the truth rarely generated as many clicks as a scandal.
The next morning, Ethan arrived at Prescott Global before seven.
Claire was already waiting outside his office.
She looked unusually uncomfortable.
"Good morning."
"It won't be."
He frowned.
"What's wrong?"
She placed her tablet on his desk.
A celebrity gossip website filled the screen.
There, across the front page, was a photograph of him standing beneath an umbrella beside Madison.
The headline screamed:
WHO IS ETHAN PRESCOTT'S MYSTERY WOMAN?
Below it were dozens of wild claims.
A secret girlfriend.
A gold digger.
A hidden engagement.
A woman receiving expensive gifts.
None of it was true.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Find out who took these photographs."
Claire nodded.
"Already working on it."
He closed the tablet slowly.
"My father is going to enjoy this far more than he should."
Almost on cue, his phone rang.
Dad
Ethan answered.
Henry didn't even say hello.
"So..."
Ethan sighed.
"Don't."
"I told you she was future daughter-in-law material."
"Dad."
"I've already saved the article."
"You are impossible."
"I've been called worse."
Ethan couldn't help laughing.
For exactly five seconds, everything felt normal.
Then Claire's office phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her expression changed immediately.
She looked toward Ethan.
"Sir..."
"What is it?"
"The woman from the article..."
"Madison?"
Claire nodded.
"Someone just filed a formal complaint with the city against her."
"For what?"
"They're accusing her of stealing deliveries from customers."
Ethan stood so quickly his chair rolled backward.
"What?"
Claire swallowed.
"The complaint includes anonymous photographs."
He already knew.
May you like
Someone wasn't just chasing gossip anymore.
Someone had decided to destroy Madison Hayes.
