back to the city was no cheap venture. Thank God she had friends. Friends, like Adrianna, who could prance her around like a slut for five hundred dollars a night.
She stifled her dread. The party would benefit a charity, and technically she wasn’t supposed to look like a prostitute or a slut. She was supposed to be a woodland fairy straight out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , but the costume designer had taken some serious liberties.
She blew a calming breath. She only had to serve drinks to a bunch of rich stiffs she didn’t know, pocket enough money to hold her over to her first paycheck, and go home. Alone. As usual.
Regret settled in. She wished she had the confidence to strut her stuff in this hot little outfit. The fabric caressed her skin. The lines accented her curves and flattered her figure a hell of a lot more than the conservative clothes she stocked in her closet. The little skirt begged her to put a sway in her step. The heels made her look leggy, and the bustier did more for her cleavage than any bra had ever managed.
The second-glances that kept coming her way didn’t bother her nearly as much as she wanted them to. And they empowered her more than she wanted to admit. She had never used her body for leverage.
She used her brains to take her where she wanted to go. Still, an ego stroke could work magic on a woman. Even a no-nonsense career oriented woman like herself.
She stepped into a spacious and elegantly appointed elevator. The attendant glanced at her costume with an appreciative glimmer in his cloudy old eyes. “Penthouse, Ma’am?”
8
Carmie L’Rae
“Yes, please,” Josea mumbled. Or Playboy. Maybe Hustler. She clenched her fingers to keep from tugging at the hem of her skirt. No matter how hard she pulled at the leather, it wouldn’t hide the garters or the band of hosiery on her thighs. She chewed her lip instead and tried to summon the confidence she applied to everything else in her life.
At the top floor, the elevator opened into a foyer turned forest.
Real trees with tiny white lights and Spanish moss dotted the room.
Fairies in identical costumes and an array of hair colors hurried in every direction.
Josea had barely taken a step when a woman dressed in a stark black suit grabbed hold of her arm. “You. Get behind the bar!” The woman’s penciled in eyebrows furrowed in a way that didn’t leave room for questions.
Josea hurried to the polished mahogany bar at the back of the room. Adrianna had been hired to bartend this event. Obviously, she hadn’t shown up yet.
Uncut fruit filled plastic bins on ice beneath the bar. She grabbed a knife and got busy. Prep work was one thing, mixing drinks another.
She wouldn’t hold on to this job long if anyone expected her to do more than pour wine in a glass.
Josea had just sliced the last lime when a petite fairy with long red hair swept behind the bar and squeezed her waist.
“Thanks for covering. Now, shoo!” Adrianna said.
“I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do,” Josea hissed.
“Stand around long enough and somebody will tell you.”
Adrianna winked as she got to work, setting her bar in order.
Josea took a quick inventory of the room. The place was massive, and no expense had been spared to transform every inch of it for tonight’s event. Her eyes followed the back of a man in a tuxedo as he made his way to the door. Something about his gait simultaneously clenched her heart and whirled her mind back to the feel of strong arms and heated skin. Ari? It couldn’t be. What were the chances?
Hidden Nymph
9
She groaned. The familiar figure would explain why Kevin Layton had arrived early, but was now nowhere in sight. Kevin had been Ari Davenport’s best friend since they were kids. Kevin must be somewhere in the back of the house, the part off-limits to party guests.
She whirled back to the bar, her fingernails gripping the polished wood. “Who’s hosting this thing?”
Adrianna swept a
She stifled her dread. The party would benefit a charity, and technically she wasn’t supposed to look like a prostitute or a slut. She was supposed to be a woodland fairy straight out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , but the costume designer had taken some serious liberties.
She blew a calming breath. She only had to serve drinks to a bunch of rich stiffs she didn’t know, pocket enough money to hold her over to her first paycheck, and go home. Alone. As usual.
Regret settled in. She wished she had the confidence to strut her stuff in this hot little outfit. The fabric caressed her skin. The lines accented her curves and flattered her figure a hell of a lot more than the conservative clothes she stocked in her closet. The little skirt begged her to put a sway in her step. The heels made her look leggy, and the bustier did more for her cleavage than any bra had ever managed.
The second-glances that kept coming her way didn’t bother her nearly as much as she wanted them to. And they empowered her more than she wanted to admit. She had never used her body for leverage.
She used her brains to take her where she wanted to go. Still, an ego stroke could work magic on a woman. Even a no-nonsense career oriented woman like herself.
She stepped into a spacious and elegantly appointed elevator. The attendant glanced at her costume with an appreciative glimmer in his cloudy old eyes. “Penthouse, Ma’am?”
8
Carmie L’Rae
“Yes, please,” Josea mumbled. Or Playboy. Maybe Hustler. She clenched her fingers to keep from tugging at the hem of her skirt. No matter how hard she pulled at the leather, it wouldn’t hide the garters or the band of hosiery on her thighs. She chewed her lip instead and tried to summon the confidence she applied to everything else in her life.
At the top floor, the elevator opened into a foyer turned forest.
Real trees with tiny white lights and Spanish moss dotted the room.
Fairies in identical costumes and an array of hair colors hurried in every direction.
Josea had barely taken a step when a woman dressed in a stark black suit grabbed hold of her arm. “You. Get behind the bar!” The woman’s penciled in eyebrows furrowed in a way that didn’t leave room for questions.
Josea hurried to the polished mahogany bar at the back of the room. Adrianna had been hired to bartend this event. Obviously, she hadn’t shown up yet.
Uncut fruit filled plastic bins on ice beneath the bar. She grabbed a knife and got busy. Prep work was one thing, mixing drinks another.
She wouldn’t hold on to this job long if anyone expected her to do more than pour wine in a glass.
Josea had just sliced the last lime when a petite fairy with long red hair swept behind the bar and squeezed her waist.
“Thanks for covering. Now, shoo!” Adrianna said.
“I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do,” Josea hissed.
“Stand around long enough and somebody will tell you.”
Adrianna winked as she got to work, setting her bar in order.
Josea took a quick inventory of the room. The place was massive, and no expense had been spared to transform every inch of it for tonight’s event. Her eyes followed the back of a man in a tuxedo as he made his way to the door. Something about his gait simultaneously clenched her heart and whirled her mind back to the feel of strong arms and heated skin. Ari? It couldn’t be. What were the chances?
Hidden Nymph
9
She groaned. The familiar figure would explain why Kevin Layton had arrived early, but was now nowhere in sight. Kevin had been Ari Davenport’s best friend since they were kids. Kevin must be somewhere in the back of the house, the part off-limits to party guests.
She whirled back to the bar, her fingernails gripping the polished wood. “Who’s hosting this thing?”
Adrianna swept a
Similar Books
