Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“You need lipstick,” the stylist says as he fluffs around with my wig.
One of the other girls shuffles around in the drawer in front of where she is sitting and pulls out hot pink lipstick, passing it to me.
I screw up my face. “Really?” I frown. That looks very clowny.
“Really,” they all reply in unison.
I put on the hot pink lipstick and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight leather skirt and a skimpy tie around leather top, gold high heels, long dark hair with a sailor’s cap, pink glasses and pink lipstick. I do hate to admit it, but I don’t even recognize myself.
“Thank you.” I smile. “Shall I just go back out?” I ask.
“Yes, go and find a job where he won’t see you,” Ebony replies.
Find a job. What job? “Should I go back to the bar?”
“Maybe collect glasses from the tables until you see where he is and then decide where he will least likely see you.”
I nod. “Good idea.” I think on it for a minute. “Will I get into trouble for not going back to the bar, though?”
“No, it’s cool. The glasses need collecting from the table anyways.” She gives me a smile and runs her fingers through my long dark hair. “You make a pretty hot brunette, Viv.”
I look at her over the top of my rose-colored glasses and smirk. “Thanks.” I turn and walk back out into the club feeling a little braver. My eyes roam the club at the hundreds of well-dressed men in suits. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack
Right. Cameron Stanton?
Where are you?
It’s been over an hour and I have walked what feels like five thousand miles around this club in the search of my Dr. Vegas. Where is he? My eyes scan the bottom level as I walk along with my tray, picking up empty glasses from the tables. Group after group of gorgeous men surround me, but I can’t seem to find mine. Well, he’s not mine, but you know what I mean. The music comes to a crescendo and the lights dim. Shit. The fashion show is starting. The spotlight comes on the catwalk and I stand still for a moment as I watch the first model glide down the runway. Gosh, she’s breathtaking. A natural redhead with porcelain skin—she has this confident, sexy walk going on, and to be honest, I think she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in real life. Wearing a cream sequin dress that is backless, her hair is down and set in Hollywood curls. She has sky-high, strappy gold stilettos on. I stand still for a moment as I watch her command the room with her beauty. The men on the bottom level all watch her, captivated, and they exchange looks with a smirk.
What must it be like to be her? She gets to pick from these men.
Who will she choose?
Transfixed, I watch her make eye contact with some of the men in the front row as she comes to the end of the runway and puts her hand on her hip, throwing them a sexy wink. I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile. She’s playing with them.
The men all glance at each other and size each other up. Suddenly the penny drops. These are powerful men… they could have any woman they want on their own merits in the real world, but in here they are just a number… and she gets to choose.
It’s the powerful man’s ultimate game.
Suddenly I’m frantic to find Cameron Stanton. What if she wants him?
No, she can’t have him. I want him. I begin to look around nervously. Of course she’ll want him. Any woman would pick him over the rest of these idiots. The models all start to file out in their fashion parade, but I’m focused on my task. I continue to pick up the glasses and weave in between the men. I bend over a table and I feel a hand on my behind and then slide down to the back of my thigh. I look over my shoulder to see a distinguished looking man with dark hair standing behind me.
He’s in his late thirties and handsome in a sophisticated, naughty way.
“Hello.” He smiles sexily as he raises his brow.
I smile nervously, relieved that it isn’t Dr. Stanton. Or maybe I do wish it was him. No, I don’t! He can’t find out that I work here. Oh jeez, I’m confusing myself here.
“Hello.” I smirk.
His eyes drop to my feet and back up to meet my eyes. I can feel the heat from his gaze. This man is hot. “What’s your name?” he asks.
“Vivienne.”
He holds out his hand and I stare down at it. He wants to shake my hand. Even in a place like this, his manners overrule his desire.