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New York—Oh, baby! Fasten your garter belts because do I have a scoop for you. Yours truly was recently granted unprecedented access to the breathtaking brainchild of those fashion icons turned film stars, Elsa Blakely and Tanner Sharpe. And let me tell you, much like Mr. Sharpe’s impressive package, this collection doesn’t disappoint.
Though I admit that I was skeptical—what could they possibly do together that would be steamier than that sex tape? I also humbly admit that I was wrong, so wrong. Because this lingerie love child will leave you swooning and hungry for more.
Though Blakely and Sharpe’s own nuptials are still some ways away, they have managed to marry the best features of their respective companies. Their collaboration combines Dirty Little Angel’s feminine focus on detail and clean lines with Pretty Little Vixen’s flair for the dramatic.
This delivery is so delectable you’ll want to eat it up with a spoon. Every scrap of silk and satin begs to be touched, while the lines and lace of the lingerie are the perfection nonpareil.
Unfortunately, I was just given the briefest taste of the fashion feast to come, but there’s one item that has me drooling. The cobalt Chantilly lace and cream raw silk confection will make anyone’s mouth water, but it’s the bright color of the straps that really sets this piece apart. The striking pop of those two blue lines serve as the perfect accent for every pair.
Have I teased you enough yet? Because I certainly left my sneak peek session feeling hot and bothered and not just because they were handsy with the measuring tape.
But, as much as people will be clawing at the catwalk for this couture, the question on the minds of everyone who’s anyone is: what about the finale?
The actual outfit Miss Blakely will make her grand re-entry in is being kept under lock and key, literally—you should see the vault—and any attempt to discover details came up against a literal and figurative brick wall.
But there can be no doubt, whatever Blakely will be wearing—or not—will certainly be a showstopper. And when she takes her place of honor in the culmination of all her and Tanner Sharpe’s hard work, I have no doubt she’ll be glowing.
Chapter 28
Tanner
“You know, there’s a Duane Reade like two buildings over.”
As I watch Jackson give the menu board a cursory look, I assume he’s going to ignore my comment.
“They don’t have coffee,” he growls. “It’s fucking disgusting there, anyway.”
No such luck, I guess.
We both take a step along with the conga line of a queue stretching around the small, overpriced coffee shop at the corner of Wall and Pearl.
“Have you ever even been there?” I ask.
“What does it matter?” Jackson shoots back at me. “They’re all fucking disgusting.”
“If you’d ever been there, you’d know they do have coffee, and that it’s not even that bad. Everything down here is at least a little fancier than it is in the rest of the city.”
Jackson’s eyes are focused on the barista, who’s helping a pair of tourists in front of us. His arms are folded tightly, and he looks like he’s increasingly ready to fucking explode.
“At your level,” Jackson begins after moving his angry face back over to me, “you should have much higher standards.”
“I often do, but this is one of the special times I don’t really give a fuck.”
The tourists amble away, and we step up to the register.
“That sure fucking took long enough,” Jackson snarls.
The young barista looks uncomfortable, but she also looks like she’s getting used getting yelled at by assholes in this neighborhood.
“May I help you?” she asks with a touch of acidity.
Yes, she’s getting used to it quick. She’s maybe 20 years old—surely just as ambitious and hopeful as we all once were. Unfortunately, working on this street in any capacity tends to rob people of that spark with lightning speed.
“Two lattes and take too fucking long.”
Jackson knows his order isn’t nearly specific enough, he didn’t even say a fucking size.
But it’s clear from his expression that he’s challenging the barista, even if it’s for no fucking reason whatsoever.
