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I wish Sebastian were backstage with me, because I could use his arms right now. His strength and courage and support.
“Okay,” I say, pushing down the threat of stage fright. “Let’s do it.”
Elaina helps me into the dress, and I’m surprised at how well it fits. She fastens buttons, tapes the fabric to my breasts, and then I step into the diamond dust pumps that complete the look.
“Just a sec. Let me fix that hem.” Elaina pins it up by an inch before standing back to admire her handiwork. “You look incredible. Seriously, you were meant to wear this gown.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely,” Anya jumps in, her full mouth hinting at a confident smile, despite dealing with food poisoning. “Besides, no one else is good enough to take my place.”
“I’m sure there’s someone better suited than me.”
“Not today.” Elaina tugs me by the arm and heads for the door.
Anya calls out, “good luck,” and a minute later, we rejoin the models, the short walk from the ladies’ room passing in an anxious blur. My anxiety climbs as they take turns on the catwalk, one by one, showing off my designs under the blinding lights.
Inciting oohs and aahs from the audience.
Making me more nervous with each step they take.
And then my moment arrives.
I give myself a pep talk before stepping onto the runway, strutting with terrified bravery amid flashing cameras and hot stage lights. The gown flows around my body, as smooth as butter, while high-energy music vibrates under my heels. Keeping time to the beat, exuding sass, I’m about halfway down the catwalk when I spot Sebastian and Tatum on the sidelines.
Their eyes are wide with shock. Sebastian gives me a full-fledged grin, and my heart flutters before I force my gaze straight ahead once more.
But another familiar face catches me off-guard, and I almost step out of sync. His tongue darts across his lip as he ogles the sway of my hips.
Axel Ivermann.
Ford’s competitive friend.
The man who wanted a piece of me at the illegal gambling party I accompanied Ford to last month. I’m confused by Axel’s presence until I remember the model he had on his lap as he tried to out-blackjack Ford.
I pause at the end of the runway, and that’s when he winks at me. Resisting the urge to drop my professional mask, I pivot and return backstage, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I’ve barely sunk into a chair when Sebastian materializes from the people milling about backstage.
He pulls me into his arms, Tatum not far on his heels.
“You didn’t tell me you were modeling.” Sebastian cups my cheeks, his body pressing against mine as if he can’t get close enough. “God, you were incredible out there.” He lands a kiss on my smiling lips before Tatum gives me a congratulatory hug.
“We had to improvise,” I explain, wringing my clammy hands. “One of the models got food poisoning.”
“Food poisoning, huh?” Axel appears out of nowhere, inserting himself into the conversation. “Damn, that sucks.” His intense gaze sweeps over my body. “But you’re sexy as hell in that gown, so I understand why your designs impressed everyone.”
My cheeks heat at his praise. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Axel leans toward me with a wink, confident in his tailored tuxedo and reeking of cigars and sandalwood.
Sebastian plants himself at my side. “You’re a friend of Ford’s, right?” One arm snakes around my waist as he nods at our interloper. “Alex, isn’t it?”
“Axel,” the other man corrects, his mouth creeping into an amused smile. “And you are?”
“The one who’s going to marry her.”
Axel laughs. “I bet you boys keep each other on your toes in that tower.” He winks at me again. “Though with such a gorgeous queen as the prize, I can see why.”
Tatum clears his throat, slicing through the tension. “What brings you to Los Angeles?”
