Her fake eyelashes fluttered at me as she giggled like a schoolgirl, something she hadn’t been for many years. Not that I’d ever asked how old she was, but I’d pegged her as being about the same age as my mother—around fifty. But where my mother was more sedate in her choice of clothing, Sigrid was anything but. The bright orange tunic she wore today clashed with the dayglo yellow floaty trousers she’d chosen to wear with the top.
I shuddered and tried not to let my eyes linger for too long so I didn’t end up with a headache. It never ceased to amaze me how a fashion designer could be so colour-blind when she got dressed. It had to be the only explanation for the clashing colour explosion she was currently blinding me with.
Since she’d been commissioned to create the new range of sexy lingerie for men, I’d spent a great deal of time with her and her wild outfit choices. I’d had a few moments of panic at the thought of what she might create for me. It was only at the sessions, where she’d spent an age measuring me to ensure the items fitted perfectly for the catwalk, that I’d calmed down. Although, I couldn’t say that was the case all the time, not with her hands all over my junk. Heck, she’d touched places even my own mother had never been.
Not that I was worried. I’d met her partner, Alice, on more than one occasion. The petite school teacher said very little, but her presence was always felt because Sigrid seemed more relaxed with her around.
“—then you’ll follow Matthew for the big reveal at the end, but remember he can forget his timing and I don’t want you catching him up before he hits the end of the runway.”
I nodded, frowning. Shit, what had I missed?
When Sigrid snapped her fingers beneath my nose, I jerked back, stumbling into Holly, who reached out to steady me. A memory of firm hands touching my arms earlier surfaced. I groaned under my breath. It was hard to stop thinking about Mr. Hudson.
“Charlie, are you listening to me? God save me from dumb models,” she moaned as she pulled a face at me.
I didn’t take offence at her comments, even as several heads turned in our direction. “Yeah, yeah! I’ve heard it all before,” I muttered, starting to strip when I noticed her staring at my old, baggy clothes.
Once I was standing naked in front of her, I kept my gaze focused on her, giving off a “nothing to see here” vibe as I forced my mouth into a fake smile.
I’d learned really quickly that if I showed any sign of weakness, the other models would literally circle like sharks scenting blood. So I used a fake, flamboyant persona to hide my discomfort at standing naked with my junk hanging out for all to see.
It wasn’t that I thought my cock was too small, or that my body wasn’t okay. Alright… I was a little too slim for my liking, but there wasn’t much I could do about that, given that my metabolism was so fast.
My mother had always said that I had hollow legs as a child. Once I’d got older and started to have a few fainting episodes, they’d done some tests. It turned out I had a weird overactive metabolism that burned calories way too fast. It meant I’d had to change my eating habits, needing to eat several meals a day to keep my body fuelled in order to stop me from passing out.
This had caused a lot of rumours about me when I’d first started modelling. Everyone assumed I was bulimic because they didn’t see how I could eat like a horse and still be super skinny.
At the impersonal touch of Sigrid’s cold fingers, my hands balled at my sides and I hid my grimace.
Get your head in the game, Charlie boy.
Griffin
Disgruntled from my afternoon board meeting, I’d arrived at the hotel to find that the manager, Luke Mason, had been held up in another meeting and was unable to see me before the show.
I glared at anyone that chose to look in my direction as I strode into the ballroom, in no mood to chat. When are you ever in the mood for anything other than work?
I swallowed a sigh, my eyes narrowing as I took in the gorgeous room full of people that had been transformed for the night. The wooden floor was covered in a plush red carpet and there was now a large runway occupying the middle of the room. There were steps at the back that led into the storeroom which had been converted into a changing area for the models.
There were black and white floaty nets draped everywhere that I looked, even the packed seats lining either side of the runway had black net and white covers tied around their backs. The spotlights rigged on the ceiling cast red shadows over everything, adding a dramatic flair to the overall effect. The colour scheme was designed to enhance the colourful array of lingerie Sigrid had created.
This being my first foray into the fashion world, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The decision to create a line of male lingerie came after I’d seen an article about it becoming a popular trend among men to wear sexy underwear. It wasn’t something I was interested in, but I’d done some research and been surprised at the rising trend. Seeing the potential for it to skyrocket in popularity, I’d chosen Sigrid after seeing the designs she’d submitted expressing an interest in the project.
I searched the room for the woman in question. Coming up empty, I glanced at the seats again. Which seat was mine? With no clue, I stopped walking to search through my jacket pocket, finding the invite May had given me before I’d left the office.
I groaned as I discovered I was seated in the front row.
Great, eye level with all the guy’s penises. Just what I wanted!
My brows attempted to disappear into my hairline as I saw that my seat was slap bang at the end of the runway and dead centre, so there was no avoiding anything. “This just gets better and better,” I muttered under my breath as I moved to take my seat. Ensuring I didn’t make eye contact with the people milling around dressed in expensive clothes and sipping drinks, I took my place. Noting the empty seats on either side of mine, I prayed that I didn’t end up next to someone who wanted to chat all night.
The air around the room was positively humming with excitement which should have thrilled me, but all I could think about was going upstairs and working on a proposal to move the work along in this hotel. The board, as expected, had vetoed all the plans, yet again, requesting more costings. I was tempted to just go ahead and fund the upgrade myself, but my lawyer had warned against it until I had all the information to hand about disbanding the board.
As I rubbed my forehead, hoping it would stop the brewing headache from getting worse, a timid voice spoke up.
“I think you’re sitting in my seat?”
I swallowed a curse and glanced sideways at the lady stood wearing what could only be described as the ugliest suit I’d ever seen. The brown tweed was genuinely awful. Her eyes grew wide with alarm behind her horn-rimmed spectacles as she clutched her hideous brown handbag to her chest, as if I might have been going to rip it right out of her arms.
“I think you’re mistaken,” I responded flatly, pulling out my ticket to show her that the error was all hers. I cursed under my breath as I glanced at the invite. She was right. I was sat in the wrong seat. I gave her an apologetic smile. “I apologise.”
She gave a little head bob as I moved one seat over before seating herself nervously next to me. The urge to state that I wasn’t an ogre died as I realised I’d be lying. I glanced at her again as she continued to fidget. Why would this woman, in her ugly suit, be interested in men’s underwear?