Right. Because pretending to make out with a super hot rock star while a camera crew filmed it was a daily occurrence for me. Totally natural.
“Not to mention I got you more money. You know, for doing it in your skivvies.”
Slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
“Katie?”
“I’m breathing.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Okay… so breathe and then get your ass out there. We went over this. We drank wine. Remember? You’re gonna rock this.”
Rock this. Right. Despite Devi’s confidence in me, I was pretty sure Jesse Mayes was the one who was going to rock this.
I was very possibly going to throw up.
For the first time since I started dry-heaving, I caught my reflection in the mirror: the reflection of the girl who was about to fake make out with Jesse Mayes.
Half-naked.
I blinked and stared, trying to imagine that girl in a music video.
She had a lot more makeup on than usual, but okay… it’s not like there was nothing there to work with. Face kind of heart-shaped. Symmetrical features. Slender, arched eyebrows and decently high cheekbones. Full lips. Largish blue-green eyes framed by dark lashes. Pale Irish skin with a few micro-freckles dusted across a decently cute nose.
I looked over my figure in the lingerie, which was much sexier than I’d realized, now that I was seeing it through the eyes of the girl who was about to wear it in front of Jesse Mayes. I’d always been kind of petite, nothing like the other women they’d hired for this, but at least I had curves. I used to be a tomboy, actually. A skater kid, I dressed like the boys I hung out with and looked like them too. It was hard not to still see that girl in the mirror. I was kind of a late bloomer, but Ihadbloomed.
And someone liked what they saw, enough to hire me for this, right?
“Katie?” Devi sounded worried now. I didn’t like being the one to make her sound that way.
I tried to wrap my head around the idea of walking out there, inthis, in front of Jesse Mayes, and all his hot friends, and the security guys and the camera crew and all those other models—realmodels… and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t. My palms were still sweating as I clung to the sink.
“Shit, Devi,” I said in a small, parched voice. “He doesn’t even know who I am.”
“Should he?”
“Um, yeah? I thought he picked me. But he didn’t even know I was hired.”
“So? Youwerehired. I know you feel all weird about it because you’ve never done this before, but who the fuck cares? Trust me, babe. This is the kind of thing some girls, beautiful girls, bust their asses trying to get their whole careers and never do. This is Jesse Fucking Mayes.”
“Yeah. I’m aware.”
Both Devi and Google had filled me in on the extent of the man’s fame, informing me that Jesse Fucking Mayes was nothing less than a rock god, a sex god, and a total heartbreaker.
Not to mention that his current girlfriend was none other than Elle, the super hot female bass player of Dirty.
Even if I could muster the nerve to walk out there in this lingerie, I, Katie Bloom, was not built for that kind of pressure.
“You know we rep an actress who just shot a love scene with Leonardo?” Devi went on. “And an actual Victoria’s Secret model. They passed on all of them. They wantyou.”
“Uh-huh.” That part, to be honest, still didn’t compute. But it did make me feel more nauseous. “Why thehelldid I agree to do this? You know I hate being in the spotlight.” I shut my eyes, fighting back the spins.
Devi fell silent. She knew, alright.
She’d been there, standing by my side at the altar while the minister looked on with grave sympathy and the minutes ticked by. While everyone stood looking at me in my white dress; everyone but the one person who was supposed to be there.
