Chapter 2

Lacey

The crowd’s applause pours over my skin, raising goosebumps of anticipation. It’s loud as we stand just behind the drapes at the side of the stage, with just the curtains separating us from them.

“Quiet now, ladies!” Tracey’s voice is a hissed whisper as she trolls down the line, making adjustments. We’ve been given our places and have lined up for more than ten minutes now. Unfazed, she’s still swapping girls periodically as she gives out last-minute instructions.

“Nervous?” Serina’s haughty voice in my ear brings me back to the present. She’s artfully arranging her hair around her shoulders.

“Yes.” My honest answer seems to take her by surprise, and she pauses to look up at me.

The MC’s voice booms out to the spectators, introducing the show. She waits for it to die down before leaning towards my ear to be heard better.

“Well, you look great, so I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Her whispered encouragement was not what I expected.

Wow! Maybe I judged her too quickly. Or maybe walking away from Mr. Denham earlier made all the difference?

She definitely has nothing to worry about from me. Sleeping my way to the top has never been and will never be on my priority list.

I don’t understand the competitiveness that’s so common in this industry. We’re all so different. Everyone has their place, with their own following and fans. Maybe it’s my naiveté, being new and all.

“Thank you.” Pulling my shoulders back, I assume the trademark stance, hands on the hips and shifting my weight from side to side. “This bra doesn’t look too tight?”

Not that there’s much I can do about it now, but I’m curious about her opinion, too. I feel like my lady jugs will spring out any second, but it’s got to be my imagination, right? Jerard assured me it’d be fine.

Stepping closer, she runs her fingers under the band on the underside of my chest, tugging slightly. Pulling the straps at the top of my shoulders, she runs her fingers down them and then under the lace fabric, just slightly above my nipples.

“It’s not pinching your sides, but you’re swelling nicely out the top. The cups are a little small, but that’s what they like. You’re just lucky!” She winks, her exotic makeup magnifying her sultry expression. “Most models would never fill that out so perfectly.”

She smiles, not stepping away while maintaining eye contact.

Okay. I would say she swings both ways. I keep a friendly smile on my face while processing this change in direction.

I’m guessing her philosophy is ‘if you can’t beat them, you might as well join them’. Since Mr. Denham seems so interested in me, she figures we could be a package deal.

Fucking great. Not my style. Here’s hoping I won’t have to deal with that.

The music begins, ending our moment, and the line presses up in anticipation. All of us move a bit more towards the entrance to the runway, tightening the line.

Tracey walks by, tapping her chin with the back of her hand, signaling us to stand tall. She smiles when she reaches me.

“Just remember to let your arms move naturally with your body, swinging slightly but staying close to your body at all times.”

I nod to let her know I hear. This is something we’ve been working on.

Swiveling in a four-step circle, I relax my arms from my shoulders so they sway smoothly until I’m facing her again.

“Perfect.” Her eyes move to Serina, dismissing me.

I ignore their conversation and concentrate on breathing as the line moves swiftly towards the entrance to the runway.

This is it. I’ve put tons of hours into practicing for this moment, and the nervous butterflies are not going to go away. The excitement is part of what I like about it.

My turn comes much quicker than I anticipated. But I’m ready.

Entering the stage, I keep my entrance pose subtle, pausing briefly. I realize immediately that I can see further into the crowd then I thought I would be able to. I imagined a brighter stage and a darker crowd, but up to three rows back, I can see faces and expressions, easily visible.

Moving down the runway, I naturally maintain my neutral, semi-serious expression, hitting every cue I’ve practiced.

Pivoting at the end of the runway, I see Mr. Denham with the best seats in the front row center. His drilling stare seems to penetrate me, but I ignore it.

Keeping my chin up, I go through the standard routine. Shifting my weight, I turn before centering out for my final rotation to head back up and off the stage.

I feel more than hear the rip over the music, just as I center out to face the crowd. Cold air hits my tits as my flushed skin is exposed.

Glancing down in what feels like slow motion, I realize my entire chest is now displayed for the audience. Fuck!

Due to the design, when the lace gives way between the cups, the entire bra loosened and fell. That was all my restricted breasts needed, since they had been threatening to pop out.

Stunned, I hesitate. I look up directly into Mr. Denham’s creepy leer. His mouth is hanging slightly open, and I see his tongue flick out quickly over his bottom lip as if he’s just drooling for a taste. Disgusting.

Embarrassed, I try to pull up the cups, covering myself with my hands. What’s the protocol for a wardrobe malfunction?

I glance around while trying frantically to fix my bra and still maintain a semblance of modesty.

Looking at Mr. Denham again, he looks angry. Is he mad this is happening or mad I’m covering myself up? Certainly, he can’t be angry with me, right?

Before I can think any more about it, I hear a commotion on my left.

Turning, I see two guys leaping up from the crowd onto the stage. They’re both shrugging off their suit coats and in two steps have reached me.

Soft, satin-lined suit material hits my shoulders from behind, just as both of them wrap their coats around my front. Startled, I realize that another large man has jumped up on stage from the other side. I’m practically lifted by all three as they usher me back off the runway and into the waiting area behind the stage.

“How am I supposed to compete with that!” Serina wails before walking out onto the runway.

“Are you okay?” My brown-haired rescuer asks as he stands in front of me, reaching out with both hands to rub my upper arms.

“Yes. Thank you so much!” I’m sure my face is beet red based on how hot I feel. Or maybe it’s the three coats I’m now wearing.

“I’m Sam.” His green eyes capture my gaze. His brown hair makes his eyes sparkle in contrast.

“I’m Adam. And this is Charlie.” The tall blond who came to my aid from the right interrupts us. He is easily the tallest and introduces the brown-eyed, dark-haired man next to him.

Sam’s hands drop from my arms as I turn to acknowledge them all.

“I cannot thank you all enough.” Dropping my gaze to the floor, I’m sure I’ve never been more embarrassed. “I froze. It…we never discussed this occurring.”

“Whose fault is this?” Adam is looking around accusingly when I look up in surprise. “What happened here? Where’s Jerard?”

The scowl on Charlie’s face let’s me know he is in complete agreement with Adam.

“I don’t think this is anyone’s fault in particular…” I turn to Sam when he wraps an arm around my shoulders. He seems more concerned with me than placing blame.

I follow his gaze to see Jerard running up from the back, where the wardrobe is staged.

“They’ll get it sorted out.” His assurance doesn’t make me feel better. I just want to disappear and pretend this never happened.

“Ah, chick-a-dee. I’m so sorry!” Jerard spreads the robe he had flung over his shoulder for me.

Sam, Adam, and Charlie slowly remove their jackets one at a time.

“Shoo, shoo.” Fluttering his hands at the men, he turns me away from them and into his arms, patting my back. “I should have listened to you. You said you were worried. I’m so sorry.”

His sincere apology is almost drowned out by Adam’s voice. “We’ll see you later at the dance.”

Turning slightly, I wave briefly at them all. “Thank you again.”

Turning back to Jerard, he leads me to wardrobe slowly. His chatter is comforting as my mind settles from the incident.

How am I ever going to go to the dance after that? Fucking embarrassing!

It’s too bad, too, because they were all so good-looking. I wouldn’t mind getting to know one of them.

They were all such gentlemen. When Jerard covered me up with the robe, they were classy and looked away.

I accept a fresh glass of champagne as I sink into a chair while Jerard flutters around me, still apologizing.

I’m going to need the liquid courage, after all.