“Just breathe. You’re on in four, three, two, one.” The curtain opened and she felt the small push to her lower back and wham, she was in the spotlight.
The music was a nice pace. The crowd, hell, she couldn’t even see it with all the lights, but as the crowd oohed and ahhed, she felt a bit more confident. She did what she thought the other models did, and soon she was halfway down the runway. Another model exited the curtain but the focus seemed to be on Diane. As she came to the center, the lights didn’t block her view of the crowd, and she saw the multiple flashes from the cameras, which nearly blinded her, and then four men dressed in tuxedoes who stared intently. One man whispered to the other as she stopped, turned around to show off the outfit and hoped that her entire ass wasn’t out. But then she felt the breeze as the material lifted, and there went her confidence. She gulped, and headed back down the other side a little less sexy than before and to the safety of the backstage area.
“Oh my God, you were great,” Elvira stated.
“I don’t think I’ve seen more flashes from the photographers all night. You were a hit, and rightfully so, Diane. You’re gorgeous.” Monique caressed her cheek as people approached.
“Get me out of this,” Diane stated through clenched teeth, and Elvira chuckled.
“Don’t be so worried. The chances that you and that little number will be the main focus of the media are pretty damn slim. Have you seen the barely there outfits these models are parading in public? Yours was classy yet sexy, and with that innocent look you have…no worries. The media, photographers, and agents go after the raunchy stuff all the time. Now, let’s grab your things.”
As Diane and Elvira headed to the small changing area, Bruce handed her a sleek, almost sheer, pale pink negligee with a long slit up the side, a deep plunge neckline
. “Get this on quickly. You’re on in three minutes.”
“What?” Both Diane and Elvira asked.
“Please, Diane,” Monique yelled out. “Just three more outfits, and when you’re done, the whole wardrobe from the event is yours to keep. I need you.”
“Oh, brother,” Elvira said and then helped Diane remove the first sexy lingerie and replace it with the next.
“At least more is covered,” Elvira exclaimed.
“Uh, hello, do you not see what I see? Nipples, my…” She pointed to her mound. The material was definitely more translucent, and it clung to her round ass. None of these models had an ass like hers. It was her worst body part.
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“One minute, Diane,” the guy yelled to her who was running the curtain. He told the models when they were going on.
She stepped into the shoes and took a deep breath.
“God help me.” She hurried toward the curtain and prayed that no one found out about this.
* * * *
“You look exhausted,” Monique stated as she joined Diane and Elvira by the set of chairs near wardrobe.
“I think the adrenaline rush is over. I was so scared, embarrassed, overwhelmed. God, I can’t believe I just paraded my goods up and down a runway with over a hundred strangers watching.”
“Three hundred and seventy-five to be exact, and of course a few thousand at least who were watching on television,” Monique stated.
“What?” Diane asked.
Monique smiled. “Darling, you have got nothing to worry about. As a matter of fact, I have some extra surprises for you. In that case right there is the perfect cocktail dress, shoes, jewelry, all for you to wear tonight at the after-party. Now, not all the models get invited, but you and Elvira are definitely in. I have a lot of friends who want to meet you, and some big shots will be there, too. Don’t be surprised if you get offered some modeling contracts. You have a very sexy figure,” Monique told her.
“Sexy? I thought models had to be super thin and have hardly any curves so they can fit in anything.”
“Not my lingerie line. It’s made for women of every size from petite to full figured. I would love to talk to you about coming to my studio in New York and doing a shoot. We’ll talk more tonight. I have a gig coming up in the fall in Paris. That could work well for you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Holy shit! That was Monique Parrinni. The number-one lingerie designer of all time. Paris? New York? Oh my God, you’re going to be famous.”
“No, I’m going to be sick.”
* * * *
“Holy shit, Melissa. Did you know about this?” Willie asked Melissa. She was standing in the living room staring at the television screen. Her face was bright red. She couldn’t believe what she just saw. Diane was modeling sexy lingerie on local Texas television.