Semua Bab Forbidden Fling: Bab 21 - Bab 30

“No one. It’s just me. It’s like practicing walking in my apartment. Just me. I count my steps. I know my spots. I hear the music and the cues, but the people are gone.”I nod. “Good advice. Except I haven’t practiced.”“Yes, you have. You know everyone’s position. And as for walking, think back. Remember those cheap plastic heels most little girls wear for dress up?”I do. I remember the pink sparkly heels with the stretched-out elastic band that held them to my feet. I also remember slipping my feet into my mom’s shoes and walking around the house. “I’m afraid I wasn’t too graceful.”She eyes me up and down as her eyebrows waggle. “But, honey...now you’re all grown up. If the no people idea for the audience doesn’t work, make it that one special person.”“That’s what Stephen said to do.”“What does he look like?”“Stephen?” I ask.“No...” We’re now moving with the rest of the models like a well-oiled machine.My rational mind reminds me that it was Stephen and I who made them this w

The show is over and as we all make our way backstage, I’m exhilarated like never before. It isn’t only that the show is complete or that I didn’t fall and make a total fool of myself—it’s more.An overwhelming sense of triumph.Cheers fill the air as everyone makes their way into the dressing room.From the sound of the crowd and the look on Chantilly’s face, the fashion show was a shining success. Not only that, I overcame a lifelong fear. I did it. I walked onto the stage. For the first time, I was more than the woman behind the scenes. Putting the show ahead of my own fears, I did what needed to be done.While allowing myself to be vulnerable, I kicked ass. At that second, I realize that sometimes it takes the first to do the second.“To Shana!” Shelly yells above the roar of the other relieved models.The backstage dressing room fills with applause.“To each of you,” I reply. “You did this, ladies. I’m so proud to have been a part.”Chantilly motions me toward her but not before

As I turn, my gaze meets Stephen’s coming toward me. Instead of speaking, I lean into him. I know this isn’t appropriate coworker behavior, but right now, I need my best friend more than my assistant.“You told her,” he says softly as my cheek falls against his shoulder, and he wraps me in a supportive hug.I nod against the roughness of his suit coat as some of the tears break loose and spill down my cheeks as I fight to get the next breath.Stephen holds my shoulders out to arm’s length. “Ms. Price, you kicked ass out there. You hold your head high.”“What about your deposit?”The tips of his lips kick upward. “We still have two weeks. I don’t know what stick is up her ass, but the numbers are still climbing. The fashion blogs are touting the amazing show, the choreography, the designs, and the newest unknown face in modeling.”I close my eyes as more tears drip from my false eyelashes.“Stop that. We’re meeting the infamous Kimbra and going out and celebrating. This is a night to p

“I never expected the club to be so packed,” Stephen says. Looking around, he adds, “Everywhere is packed. Even this place is filling fast.”He’s right. There are wall-to-wall people and the buzz of the crowd is exactly what I need to get my mind off the show and on tonight. While the idea of room service and a bottle of wine had its appeal, this new and exciting chaos is just what the doctor ordered.With all the work around the fashion show, we didn’t think about calling the Martini Club for reservations. Thankfully, this hole-in-the-wall just down the street is a hidden treasure. Like a step back in time, there are no neon lights or exposed beams. Stately, dark mahogany paneling covers the lower half of the walls, likely having been in place since before the turn of the twentieth century. The top half is covered in photographs of famous patrons through the years. Most are black and white and many have large garish signatures obstructing a portion of the face. The wood floor is so w

“No shit! Have you gotten Duncan to try?” Her husband is kind of rich. I don’t see him riding the subway or navigating transfers. Don’t get me wrong. He’s friendly and down to earth. It’s just that he’s more of a driver kind of man. It’s true that he and his brother are about as opposite as oil and water. The only thing they have in common is good looks, and if my memory and imagination serve me well, Trevor exceeds in that category.Kimbra grins. “I’ve gotten Duncan to try a lot of things.”Our heads fly back in laughter. This was just what the doctor ordered: a stress-free night laughing, cutting up, and reminiscing.“Oh my goodness,” Kimbra squeals after her second glass is nearly empty. “I can’t believe it.”“What?” we ask together.“I think I see my brother-in-law over there.” She points toward the front of the restaurant where a group of men seem to be standing, giving up their prized table.All at once, the air from my lungs evaporates as I choke on my last sip—or was it a gulp