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“But you fit my description perfectly. We’re the same height, same size, same hair color. I know they hired me through my agency, but I guarantee you Priscilla won’t notice the difference. Stick to a corner, serve a few glasses of champagne, and—” she paused to sneeze “—then you’re paid and outta there!”
“My internship startstomorrow,” I stress. “I need a full night’s sleep. You know, start the day off on the right foot or whatever?”
“If you do this favor for me, I’ll do your laundry for a whole week.”
I shrug. “I have like four rotating outfits. It’s not exactly a herculean task.”
Charlotte crinkles her nose. “I really need to take you shopping, but fine. How about I do the dishes for the whole week instead?”
“The whole month,” I barter.
She sighs, throwing her head back. Her mouth falls open, a strangled groan rising from her chest. “Okay! God, you’re the worst.”
I beam at her, reaching for her mug. “I guess you don’t want this, then.”
Charlotte clings to her tea. “No, shoo. I want it.”
“Send me a pin for the address before I change my mind.”
“Thank you, Aurora. You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know,” I say, tossing her a wink. “Now, tell me, do I have to show up nude? Or is it an arrive-and-change-into-uniform sort of deal? Should I shave? How does this work? I have so many questions.”
“Come as you are,” my best friend says after another sneeze. Poor thing needs to take her medicine in an hour. “That’s what Priscilla said, anyway. She wants to appreciate the human form.”
I sigh, moving through the narrow hall to return to my bedroom. “Ridiculous,” I say, mumbling to myself.
I shift through my things quickly, snatching up my backpack and sweater, pausing for a moment in front of my wardrobe mirror. It’s not like I’m a prude or anything. If people want to get buck naked together at an event, who am I to judge? Well, okay. That’s a lie. I’m judging a little.
Even dressed in my dark blue jeans and loose black shirt, I can appreciate my figure. I like the roundness of my hips and the dips of my waist. Not to mention I have long legs and a slightly shorter torso that give the illusion that I’m taller than my five-foot-six. Charlotte tells me all the time that if my career as a software engineer doesn’t work out, I have a good chance of being picked up as a model at her agency—but only with her referral, of course.
I’m slightly comforted by the anonymity of the event. Charlotte mentioned something about masks and lace? I suppose I might feel a bit braver, more comfortable with this whole nude serving thing if I’m allowed to hide my face. With a thousand bucks on the line and rent due in a few days, I tell myself to suck it up. People can look all they want. I have nothing to hide. And if someone dares to touch me, I’ll scream bloody murder. It’s really that simple.
My phone dings in my back pocket. Charlotte sent me the address.
“The Ritz?” I squawk. “They’re hosting a naked art gala at the Ritz?”
“I told you,” Charlotte coughs weakly from the living room. “It’s a fancy gig. Lots of VIPs or whatever. You’re not gonna get any creeps.”
“Or I’m gonna get a lot of rich creeps who think the rules don’t apply to them,” I grumble.
Casting my reflection one last look, I pull on my sweater and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I just need to keep my head down and hopefully avoid looking straight at anyone else or their…parts.
I take my mother’s wedding ring off and stash it in my jewelry box. I’d rather not lose it at some weird nudist party. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can block it from my mind and never talk about it again. Ever.
Chapter 2
Mikhail
The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can block it from my mind and never talk about it again. Ever.
I would really rather be anywhere else, but I’ve been trying to corner Jonathan Young for almost a year. According to his private secretary, his schedule is jam packed. No free weekends, no spare lunch breaks. I call bullshit. He’s either the most in-demand man on Wall Street, or he’s lying to me. I know for a fact the former isn’t true.
And I fucking hate it when people lie to me.
To be honest, I would have sent one of my brothers to try to close Young, but I worry they lack the finesse.
Dimitri, loud-mouthed and brash, would have a hard time focusing with that wandering eye of his. There are too many distractions here to tempt and derail him from the task at hand.
