So we've covered already that my heroine, Carly, doesn't care much for our douche bag hero, Eli. She signs up for a year pretending to be his girlfriend because there's a LOT of money involved, but she has no intention whatsoever of actually falling for the guy. He has no intention of falling for either, because clearly she's not his type.
This makes for all sorts of interesting situations because neither one is trying to impress the other. They can speak bluntly. They can tell the truth. They can push back instead of roll over. They had a push-pull relationship from the get-go, which - truth be told - are my favorite kinds of sticky romantic entanglements.
The following scene is one that Carly herself finished. Characters do that sometimes, throwing curve balls at you with surprising new actions you didn't outline or predict. It was clear she wasn't about to take my guff any more than she took Eli's. It was a scene where Eli orchestrates this huge makeover for our casual, atypical beauty, which doesn't go over very well for Carly. So she takes matters into her own hands. Like Eli, I didn't really see this little surprise coming. It was the exact moment that I fell head over heels in love with her. This is a strong character who doesn't let others tell her how to feel about herself, especially an arrogant dickhead like Eli Blake. This is an example of how far she's willing to go to prove her worth, even when he wants to deny her of it. (Later in the book... she goes further. I LOVE THIS GIRL.)
Cabot’s Department Store had been a L.A. staple of fashion since the 1940s, and in the past couple of years they had started up a new plus-line of clothing called Youniquely Cabot, which, for the beginning of their run anyway, was modeled by heiress C.C. Cabot herself, who, like me, had an ample figure.
Her sister-in-law, Darcy Masters, was the mastermind behind all the amazing creations, and it was her genius that guided our personal shopping experience when we got there for our eleven o’clock appointment.
Eli had beaten me to the store, where he turned on the charm for our personal shopping assistant, Ashley. Since she was thin and pretty, he got her name right the first time, and used it often with that blinding white smile of his.
That wasn’t what bothered me. I was used to that. What I wasn’t used to was the way he hung on me like a cheap coat, trying to sell this new romance to the 20-something salesgirl.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted with that same smile as he walked right up to me, put his arms around me and reached for a kiss.
Though I was no prude, and PDAs never really bothered me, having that mouth open over mine—again—made my skin crawl. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good kisser, of course he was. It was that he was Eli Blake and the kiss was for show and I was a big fat phony faking liar, just like he was.
Needless to say, my response was lukewarm, which earned his cheerfully delivered reproach. “Come on, baby. No one cares,” he murmured as he cuddled me close, his hands sliding down my back to rest on either hip. I used my eyes alone to warn him of the boundaries he was crossing. It only made him smile wider as he turned back to Ashley. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s shy.”
She giggled. “Not a problem. I’m the same way. My boyfriend always wants to get cozy in public. Drives me crazy. Of course I don’t have the whole world watching,” she added empathetically as she glanced my way.
I could barely unclench my jaw. “That does make it a little more challenging,” I agreed.
Ashley remained cheerfully on point. “Darcy looked over your list of events and she sent over quite a few options for you to consider. Give me five minutes to get everything started.”
“We’re in your hands,” Eli smiled at her while he cuddled me closer, squeezing one ass cheek for effect.
The minute she left the mirrored room, I thrust him away. “I wish you’d stop telling everyone I’m shy.”
He shrugged as he made his way to the tufted upholstered loveseat. “Which would you rather be? Shy? Or a frigid bitch? Because it could go either way.”
I glared at him. “I’m neither, for your information.”
He crossed one leg over the other, his eyes icy as he stared back at me. “Could have fooled me. We’re supposed to be crazy about each other, remember? That’s the story you’re being paid quite well to sell. Haven’t you ever been in a relationship before?”
“Is that what you think?” I gaped. “That I’m some sad wallflower that has never been kissed?”
“I know you’ve been kissed. You’ve been kissed by me.”
I barely concealed my growl of frustration just as Ashley lowered the lights and began our own private fashion show. I glanced back to Eli, who patted the space beside him with that self-satisfied smirk of his. My teeth clenched together tightly as I walked over to the love seat and squeezed myself next to him on the tiny, intimate piece of furniture. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, almost like a vice grip to keep me in line, as the first model appeared.
She was a size 14/16 like me, but her look was far more stylish than the nondescript pantsuit I happened to be wearing. She wore funky layers and bright colors, with the sass and attitude to match as she sashayed from one side of the room to the other, with a twirl as she reached us, so we could get the full 360-degree view of her outfit.
“This is for those casual occasions,” Ashley said. “Going to the movies, out to the mall, maybe meeting for lunch at an outdoor café. Just add some funky jewelry or maybe a jacket over a casual shirt and you’re ready to take on the town.”
“I like it,” Eli told her. “But I would like to see something a bit sexier.”
Ashley bestowed a smile. “Not a problem. Next is Emma, who will model one of our more versatile looks that would work for day or night, dressy or casual.”
Emma wore a sleek pencil skirt in snakeskin print, with a white blouse and an olive-colored leather jacket, along with the kind of high heels I had given up in middle school, when my growth spurt put me eye-to-eye with most the boys in my class.
Given my new steady Eli was a good seven inches taller than me, this was no longer a concern. I could only hope I remembered how to walk in the silly things.
When Eli commented he would like to see more skin, the next model, Ariel, walked out in silky black palazzo pants with a corset top with sheer lacy sides. “Add a black leather jacket and you’re good to go,” Ashley said.
“That’s more like it,” Eli murmured as he cuddled me closer. “I can’t wait to see you in that one,” he murmured, grazing his lip against my cheek near my ear. “Or, more accurately, out of it.”
I nearly bit the inside of my cheek clean off to keep from screaming.
Ashley wasn’t done. She had everything to show us, from cocktail dresses to athletic wear. “My baby does like to stay active,” he said as he grinned at me.
“You have no idea,” I promised just under my breath, plotting my revenge accordingly.
Eli made his next request to Ashley, though he looked straight at me. “Maybe we should see some lingerie, then.”
From negligees to baby doll nighties, each and every model paraded past us in silk, satin and lace. There were swimsuits, bras and panties, everything one might need for a year-long romance with one of the most desired men in the world.
It took at least two hours for us to finish our business there at Cabot’s, but if I thought he was done, I was seriously mistaken. The next stop we made was to a salon, where he suggested we do something a little more exciting with my chestnut brown hair. “Blonde highlights,” he told the stylist, who proceeded to wrap me up in so much tin foil I was pretty sure I could pick up communication from the International Space Station.
After that, it was a couple’s afternoon at a spa, where we got plucked, pampered and groomed. I very nearly brought the whole thing crashing down when it was time for our dual massage, since I had to strip down to just my panties underneath my robe.
I could tell from the cocky look in his blue eyes that he was just waiting for me to buckle. Maybe he thought I should be ashamed of my body since it wasn’t “perfect,” and he was just waiting for me to agree. So I walked into that room and let the robe fall right off my shoulders, revealing myself almost entirely for his curious stare. I wore no bra, so naturally that was where his eyes first fell, taking in every inch of my breasts as they swayed heavily before him.
Yeah, fucko, this is what natural, unenhanced tits look like.
He wanted to shame me, but I wasn’t ashamed. Like the great Eleanor Roosevelt once said, no one can make anyone else feel inferior without their consent. I simply refused to consent—to the world at large, and to Eli Blake in particular. So I wasn’t shy at all when I climbed up on my table and waited for a rub-down.
Eli was so taken aback that he didn’t say much during our massage. I made a mental note to get naked more often.
Afterwards, when they had placed hot stones along our bodies, they left us in the softly lit room, illuminated only by candlelight, with gentle music playing in the background. Finally Eli spoke.
“I have to admit, I never thought you’d go through with all this,” he murmured.
I turned my head to look at him. “Told you I wasn’t shy.”
“You’re full of surprises, Carly Reynolds,” he said, his eyes closing as he enjoyed his hot stone therapy.
“Just wait until tomorrow. You might want to wear a cup.”
He opened one eye to look at me. I just chuckled and looked the other way.
I had so much fun with these characters. I really can't wait for you to meet them. So get your pre-order today! This weekend will be the last that GLITTER is on sale, after May 10th it goes up to $3.99.
And don't forget to subscribe to my email list. Tomorrow I'm sending out an exclusive sneak peek by email only!
No comments:
Post a Comment