At one point, Helen - the woman who'd got a new car - came over to tell me how beautiful my home was. She introduced her friends, who were two other ladies that she worked with. I told them about how I'd contacted the company they worked for to clean the cabins when we had students, and all three were excited about the news. A long-term, consistent contract was a dream come true to them.
When the guests finally stopped showing up, Ash decided it was time. Grabbing the remote, he turned the music down to almost nothing, then pressed play on the television. The Risqué company logo appeared, followed by the short promotional video about the company, the locally-made garments, and the ethically-sourced materials.
As people in the room grew quiet and turned to watch, Ash disappeared into his office. Just as the video was concluding, he pushed out a pair of the mannequins Leslie had sent - and she'd sent plenty. They were all on wheeled stands, and these two wore the exact same lingerie, but that was where the similarities ended. One of them was the traditional size and shape of the mannequins used in the stores. The other one was a larger, curvier body shape.
"Well," Ash said, "you all came here to learn about lingerie, and it's something I happen to be passionate about. For those who don't know me, my name is Ashton Walker and I own Risqué. I'm also the head designer. I started modeling men's underwear before I was even eighteen. Then, when I was about twenty-five, the big-name companies decided I no longer had the look they wanted. Somewhere in there, I had developed muscles, and male underwear models were supposed to be slim and lithe."
He gestured to me, and kept going. "The same is true for the women used to showcase most underwear. Most companies require their models to be a size double zero."
"I'm not even a size double zero," I told the crowd.
"What size are you?" Emily asked from where she was standing by the dining room.
"Currently, I'm pushing a size two."
Ash tilted his head as if that said so much. "Which basically proves my point," he told the woman in the room. "If Violet is considered fat, then none of us stand a chance. Most of you don't realize that in order to get as small as she is, my best friend gave in to her eating disorder. She starved herself, and none of it was healthy. I watched that, and I hated it. So, when I started designing lingerie, my goal was to stop body-shaming women. I wanted to make something that allows the person wearing it to feel beautiful no matter what size or shape she is. Curves, a lack of curves, tall, or short, it shouldn't matter. In the fashion world, we're told that lingerie is the foundation that everything else is built on - and we all deserve a good foundation."
Then a man's voice called out, "Does that mean you wear lingerie?"
I turned to find Darnell leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Ash just shook his head and chuckled, but he didn't ignore the question.
"I'm not that kind of bi, man," he assured Darnell. "I love lingerie on women. I have no problem with men who want to wear it, but my personal passion is to see it on a woman's body. I'm really more of a briefs kind of guy myself. Who knows, maybe one day I'll start designing men's underwear as well, but right now, I can't compete with Fruit of the Loom.
"What I can do, however, is bring that same availability and functionality to the women of the world. Now, most of you have probably never heard of the pink tax, but it's a real thing. Because something is made for a woman, the price is doubled. For the company, that's nothing but pure profit. I would rather put inventory into people's hands - or more accurately on the body. The problem is that I'm not a woman."
"Ain't that the truth," one of the ladies said. I got the impression that she meant it for her friends, but the silence of the room carried it a little too well.
Ash chuckled. "Usually, I ask the models for their opinions of the clothing they wear," he explained. "Most of the time, that's Violet. I also go through the complaints submitted to our company, but none of that can give me a true idea of what real women are actually looking for in lingerie. I'm not talking about price, because we keep that as low as possible. My concerns are things like flexibility, comfort, and how it makes you feel when you're wearing it. So, since I've recently relocated back to Cats Peak, I decided to see what my own community really thinks. To this end, we are going to be giving away more lingerie than you can imagine. In return, I hope that you all will offer feedback. Good things, bad things, or somewhere in between - I don't really care. What I want is pure, honest, and unvarnished opinions."
Deena pushed to her feet. "I love what I got last week," she said. "I have never had underwear that made me feel good when I looked in the mirror before."
"And there's a reason for that," Ash said as he gestured to the mannequins. "What complements one body style doesn't necessarily work on the other." Then he proceeded to explain about how to enhance what wasn't there and complement what was.
As I watched the room, every single woman was listening raptly. Most of them were leaning forward in their seats, as if hanging on every word that came from Ash's mouth. Yes, I also knew that quite a few of them were checking out my boyfriend, but that was half his charm. It was clear that this man loved clothes, and more than that, he loved talking about them.
Women asked questions and he answered. They brought up real issues they had, and bit by bit, Ash brought out more mannequins. Some had athletic wear, others had date night lingerie, and still others had the kind of bra and panty sets that a girl naturally went for on a lazy Saturday morning. He talked about fabrics, breathability, and stretch. He discussed pressure points and clasp location. The one thing Ash didn't do was try to dumb this down as if his audience wasn't smart enough to keep up.
And the women noticed.
Unfortunately, it couldn't all go according to plan. Just as Ash started passing around a swatch of fabric options, the front door creaked open. I gestured for him to keep going and headed that way to greet our latecomers. I didn't even make it out of the living room before three women walked in: Jodi, April, and Meredith.
"We're here for the free stuff!" Jodi announced, interrupting what Ash was saying.
"You know this damned whore has never let me in past the stairway?" Meredith asked, her voice raised just a little too much so that it carried.
April just came in and looked around, glaring at everybody. "Aren't there children in this house?"
The answer came from up the stairs. "Mom!" Faith screamed. "You are not going to come here and embarrass me."
"I will do whatever I want, young lady," Meredith informed her. "And if you think I'm going to let you live like this -"
The back door opened and three men hurried into the house: Luke, Billy, and Darnell. Not surprisingly, it was Luke in the lead.
"Are you drunk, Meredith?" he demanded. "And while Ash may have invited everyone, I did not. The three of you - out."
"You can't make us," April sneered. "This isn't your house."
Billy just stepped forward and didn't stop until he reached the front door. Jerking that open, he looked at the women. "Actually, it is his house. You've also just been uninvited. If you want to talk trash about us, then go talk trash somewhere else." Then the man's lips curled in a smile that didn't look quite sane. "And if you don't leave, I will make you leave. I might even have fun doing it."
