In late October, Irena threw a big bash at Blondie’s to celebrate the release of the Most Beautiful Bartenders of New Jersey calendar. She must have been counting on the exposure to make her some big money. She even set up a free buffet.

Preston had flown up from South Carolina for the event. He’d even contacted Antoine, the photographer, and ordered a life-size copy of my photograph from the calendar. Irena hung it on the wall where anyone entering the bar would see it right away.

I’d refused to wear the outfit from the calendar shoot to the party, but I did wear a short, tight red dress in keeping with the theme. Lynette had made me a white satin sash with Miss February written in red glitter. For an additional five-dollar donation, I posed in front of my photo for anyone who wanted to take a selfie with me.

Surprisingly, even though I’d known most of these people my whole life, there were plenty who wanted my picture. But better than that, we sold out of all of the calendars Irena had ordered, which thrilled me, because the money was going to St. Jude’s.

Preston sidled up to me when there was a lull in the picture taking. “Having fun?”

“I am, but I’m exhausted.” I leaned against him and rubbed my cheek. “I can’t imagine being a real celebrity and doing this stuff all the time. My face hurts from smiling. And if one more person asks me to hold a cherry in my teeth, I might bite them.”

He pressed his lips against my ear, and his words flowed over me like warm honey. “Well, if you insist, I’ll let you bite me later.”

“Since this whole thing was your idea, I might just do that.”

“What would you do for me if I told you I made a ten-thousand-dollar donation to St. Jude’s in your honor?”

My jaw almost landed on my chest. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. I’m proud of you.” His hand swept the bar, encompassing the crowd and ending at the half-naked picture of me. “This is amazing. All of these people are here for you, Rain. They all bought calendars, and you’ve helped raise a lot of money. I wanted to do my part too.”

Before I could fully digest Preston’s generous donation and his comment about being proud of me for doing little more than taking off my clothes, Antoine appeared.

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” he asked.

Seemed like everyone wanted me to take off my clothes these days.

“Not really. It’s been kinda crazy here tonight.”

“What offer?” Preston asked.

“I’d like to work with her more. I have a lot of clients who would be interested in a beautiful woman like Rain, and that body . . .” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “Incroyable!”

Preston slipped his arm around my shoulders and winked at me. “I agree. Will you be paying her?”

Antoine straightened and glared at Preston as if he’d just been insulted, but honestly, I had wondered that myself.

“Of course. What do you take me for?”

“And you’ll let her pinch her own nipples?” Preston laughed, but Antoine looked slightly miffed.

I was feeling a bit miffed myself.

“Preston, please.”

“C’mon. I’m just joking. I think it’s a great idea. You can make a little extra cash. Why not?”

“Can I think about it, Antoine? If it’s tasteful, I might be interested, but I really want a little time to make a decision.”

“Absolutely.” He dug his card out of his shirt pocket. “Call me. If you’re interested, I can probably have some work for you in early January.”

With no purse and no pockets, I tucked the card under the strap of my bra as Antoine headed back to his assistant, who was following Lynette around like a lost puppy. So much for her dislike of fake boobs. I knew for a fact that Lynette’s had been bought and paid for by her last boyfriend.

Preston stood beside me, taking a careful stab at one of the cocktail meatballs on his plate.

I wasn’t used to the attention and the constant references to my body was getting uncomfortable. I would never be celebrated for my mind, but a little respect, especially from the man who kept proclaiming he loved me, would’ve been nice. “Would you mind not bringing up my nipples as a topic of conversation? It kinda creeps me out.”

He popped the meatball in his mouth and pushed it to the side so he could answer.

“You’re kidding, right? I said I was joking.”

“Still. I don’t discuss your body parts with anyone, and I’d like it if you did the same.”

The apology I’d hoped for didn’t materialize. Instead, he blinked once or twice, and then burst out laughing. “Good one, Rain. I thought you were serious there for a second.”

I turned with a flounce and came face to face with my own perky breasts and erect nipples.

“Who are you pointing at?” I snapped, then I stalked off toward the pool room, where my 2-D image could no longer mock me.