I’d met with my lawyer the week before to see if there was any way I could remove the board from making decisions. I’d gone through Alexander’s will with a fine-tooth comb and I was convinced I could remove the board. Yet, Will Cunningham, Alexander’s, and subsequently my lawyer was a little more cautious and wanted to check, double-check and probably triple-check all the fine print before he gave me the all-clear.
Until then, I needed to bite my tongue and bide my time while the greedy bastards took a cut of the profits from my hard work. I was thankful that the meetings were only once every two months. After months of messing around, I was ready to push on with the renovations at the Worthington. It was the flagship hotel that had been Alexander’s first purchase when he’d started building his empire.
It also held a special place in my heart because it was where I’d hidden out twenty-four years ago when Alexander had cut all the ties with my father for me.
Stop with the meandering down memory lane.
You let go of the past years ago, remember there is no going back.
I shut the voice out as May started to reel off what was in my schedule for the day. When she mentioned the launch of a new sexy range of male underwear, I rubbed my jaw. “Please say that you’ll go in my place, you know I can’t stand those sorts of events.”
“It’s at the Worthington so you can kill two birds with one stone. I’ll see if Luke can meet you this evening.” Her smile turned evil. “It was you that thought it would be a good idea to branch out into lingerie for men. Man-up and go have fun watching men prance about in next to nothing. I’d wager that if it was full-breasted women flaunting themselves you wouldn’t be asking me to attend.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and I swallowed with difficulty at what she was implying.
“Thanks for putting those images in my head,” I offered, my voice full of sarcasm. It was days like these that made me wish I didn’t enjoy the challenge of new ventures quite so much.
May continued to list other events in my calendar, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.
Bloody woman.
Charlie
The train had been packed and I’d struggled to find a seat for the hour long journey from Brighton to London. In the end, I’d managed to snag one with a table so I could at least use the time to finish my essay on the pros and cons of several different business models.
As I exited the station, I glanced down the road through the crowd of people rushing to go wherever they were headed, searching for a taxi. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw several sat at the curb, right outside the station.
I was running late and I’d already missed the dress rehearsal, which would have Sigrid spitting feathers. I hopped into the first available taxi and sank back in the seat as I gave the guy the address for the Worthington Hotel.
Unfortunately, with assignments due before the end of the semester, I’d not had a chance to scout the place. Juggling all my commitments took a lot of time, energy and effort. I hadn’t had any time to myself for a year and with Easter looming large, I wanted to be able to take a couple of weeks off. I had plans to go home to Glasgow to see my family, which my mother was over the moon about.
The modelling agency had had a different idea though, and I’d had to be firm about needing time off. They’d agreed, but only after I’d said I’d do a catwalk show for a charity event in Edinburgh.
There was one positive to doing that show: I’d at least get to wear clothes that covered all of me. The underwear I would be sporting tonight hardly covered anything. I’d cringed when I’d seen the designs. Then I’d been mortified when I’d got more than a little aroused at the feel of lace and satin against my skin during the fittings. How I’d managed to keep my wayward dick under control, I had no idea. It was a little disconcerting to suddenly be confronted with arousal and intrigue any time I thought about it, given that I’d had no prior interest in that type of underwear.
What you mean is that when you go back to your digs, you spent time wanking to the photo you’d taken of yourself in the mirror when no one was looking. Heat flooded my face and I had to work hard to think about something else.
The time I’d spent with Sigrid while she was measuring me to make sure the outfits fitted had only increased my interest. Sigrid had promised that as the underwear wouldn’t fit anyone else, once the show had finished, I’d get to keep it.
Keeping clothes was a perk of the job I’d started to appreciate when I’d been expected to go to parties that my original wardrobe wouldn’t have been any good for. Jeans, joggers, slogan T-shirts and hoodies wasn’t what the modelling agency wanted me wearing to events.
“That’ll be seventeen quid, mate,” the taxi driver announced.
I glanced out of the window at the austere building as I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and dug out a twenty-pound note, pushing it through the glass partition. “Could I have a receipt? And keep the change, mate.” The modelling agency were good with expenses. They’d cough up the money for travel as long as I had a receipt.
With the receipt stashed in my wallet, I jumped out of the cab and eyed the tall dude standing outside the hotel in top hat and tails. He gave me a full head to toe perusal without revealing what he was thinking. I gave him kudos for keeping his thoughts to himself because I probably didn’t fit the mould for the normal clientele who frequented the hotel.
I gave him a nod as he held open the door for me. The scent of expensive perfume spoke of money as I stepped into the warm foyer. The plushness of the reception area and the guests’ fancy clothes and jewellery confirmed my suspicions. This place was way out of my league.
With a quick glance at the signage, I found the name of the room we’d be using for the fashion show and headed in the direction the arrows indicated. Taking a deep breath, I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and slipped into my model persona, the one I’d learned to cultivate in order to survive the bitchy and cutthroat business. I’d been a naive fool when I’d started out, taking the hurtful comments to heart. There was a need for the hide of a rhino in the world of fashion and although I hadn’t entirely developed that, my skin had thickened, along with learning how to keep the real me hidden.
As I breezed into the room that said ‘changing rooms for models’ I gave a fake smile to several half-dressed men and blew air kisses to several more before reaching Holly, who was waving frantically at me. “You’re running late, Charlie, Sigrid is having a hissy fit because you weren’t here for the dress rehearsal.”
The strained smile on Holly’s face forced me to bite back the snippy comment on the tip of my tongue. I released a breath, dropped my book bag on the floor and took off my coat to throw it on the empty chair designated for me. “I explained I had a late class today and that it would mean I’d miss the rehearsal, but she never listens to anything she doesn’t want to hear—”
“Who doesn’t listen and why are you so late? I told you I needed my top boy here at five-thirty for the run-through,” Sigrid screeched in her usual stressed-out voice.
I patted her arm, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes at Holly, who was sniggering behind Sigrid’s back. “I’m here now and I’ll be naked and ready for you in about ten seconds,” I reasoned, giving her a smile that GQ readers had voted as the sexiest of 2019.