Page 64 of Last First Date

She groaned. “Two days. What was I thinking?”

“Don’t think,” I said. “Let’s just do this.”

I hailed a cab and helped her inside. The flagship store was in an exclusive shopping area of Manhattan. The car pulled up outside a seemingly endless glass-fronted building. I stepped out and offered her a hand. I had never actually been inside the store. It was all very high end. The lingerie was tastefully displayed on mannequins with plenty of portraits to give customers an idea about what the lingerie looked like.

“Wow,” she whispered. “I’m afraid to touch anything. I’m guessing a bra costs more than I make in a week.”

I chuckled and led her deeper into the store. Soft music played through unseen speakers. The smell of musk and vanilla filtered through the place. It all felt very seductive. It was like they were trying to set a mood to encourage the purchase of their tantalizing lingerie.

A woman wearing all black appeared out of nowhere. “Hello,” she said, smiling. “Can I help you two find something special?”

I realized she thought we were a couple searching for something to spice up the bedroom. I shook my head. “No. Well, yes, but I’m Knox Williams. This is Waverly Edwards. She was sent here to pick a few pieces.”

Waverly gave me a thankful smile. I didn’t necessarily mean to speak for her. It just happened.

“Oh yes,” the woman said, smiling. “We have the VIP suite reserved for you. We’ve pulled a few things the director thought would look great on you, but you are free to browse.”

“Thank you,” Waverly said in a nervous voice.

I followed the women to a back corner that opened to an average room with a plush red sofa. Various pieces of lingerie hung from hooks. A wall of mirrors was on one side. A red curtain sectioned off a changing area.

“Would you like champagne?” the woman asked. “Cappuccino? Latte?”

“Champagne, please,” I said, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Waverly said.

“She’ll have champagne,” I chimed in.

Waverly frowned at me, but she needed it. She needed to take the edge off.

“Feel free to look at what we’ve pulled for you,” the woman said with a smile. “You can try them on in there or wherever. You’ll have total privacy.”

She walked away, closing the door behind her. Waverly looked at me nervously.

I shrugged, gesturing to some of the outfits. “Go for it,” I said. “Pick one.”

She grimaced and slowly moved to pick up one of the outfits. “I didn’t want champagne,” she muttered defiantly.

“You look like you need to take the edge off,” I said. “Consider it part of the experience.”

“This is so weird,” she groaned. I watched her take a couple of things into the dressing area and pull the curtain closed.

The lingerie store was about the last place I expected to find myself with my assistant. I glanced around at the lacy designs, feeling a sense of nostalgia for the days when the fashion industry was my playground. I would be the one getting to walk into any store and given free rein. But now it was Waverly’s turn. She was the one getting a blank check to buy anything she wanted on the lingerie company’s dollar.

The director of the lingerie company had been insistent that Waverly get a feel for what the company was selling. She was supposed to wear a few pieces so she would not only feel comfortable but would also be able to talk about it. How it made her feel and all of that.

I couldn’t quite shake off the twinge of annoyance that they wanted her on the runway and not me. After all, I had a history in this world. I was used to strutting down catwalks in tight briefs that left little to the imagination. It was once my bread and butter. It wasn’t like I had gotten soft during my time away from the runway. I still had it. I worked out. I swam. These people were acting like I was on the shelf.

The woman brought in two glasses of champagne. “If you need anything, just pop your head out or you can push the button there. I’ll leave you two alone to do your shopping.”

“Thank you.” I nodded.

I didn’t bother correcting her assumption we were a couple. The privacy would be good for Waverly. I could feel her nervousness coming off her in waves. I sipped the champagne and pulled out my phone. I could hear her moving around in the changing room. I focused on my screen to avoid picturing her naked just a few feet away from me.

The silence continued. It was only punctuated by the occasional rustle of clothes and her little grunts and sighs. I sent a couple of emails on my phone, took another sip of champagne, and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Finally, I heard a soft voice mumble from behind the closed curtain, “Knox?”