“It’s perfect,” Caryn insisted. “You can have your fantasy, with your fantasy guy, and not jeopardize your job. Or your ego if anything goes wrong.”
“Are you throwing in fat-free chocolate and calorie-less whipped cream?”
“I don’t have to. All you need is a makeover.”
Two sets of jaws dropped right along with her own. Gia was glad to see the other women were just as baffled as she was.
“Since when did makeover and orgasms go hand in hand?”
“How will a facial and haircut get her fantasy sex?”
“I don’t look good enough to get a guy like Luke Monroe?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re gorgeous. But those silly rules mean you can’t haul the guy into the company supply closet and ride him like a wild stallion. So you need a cover. A fake persona. You can make yourself into the woman you are in your fantasies, and he won’t have a clue the woman blowing his, um, mind is someone he works with.”
“Oh, I like this,” Sara said, all but rubbing her hands together. “It’s easier to get into the role if you’re in costume. The makeover not only protects your identity, it lets you shed your inhibitions. You can do anything you want, because you’ll be someone else.”
Anything?
Excitement flamed in Gia’s belly. Suddenly it seemed as if blurting out her secret had been a good thing.
Nerves warred with the excitement, and doubts screamed warnings in her head. But the vision of being tied to a bed and having whipped cream licked off her body by a very naked, very aroused, very worshipful Luke Monroe made those easy to ignore.
Well, that vision and the second chocolatini.
“I could do it. I really could,” she said, pressing her fingers to her lips to try and hold back her excitement. “And, really, where better than Sin City to go wild.”
Other than right here, in her mind, where she couldn’t be rejected or make an idiot of herself. Or worse, find out she wasn’t fantasy-sex material.
“There’s no way we can pull all of this off before next weekend, though. Can we?” She didn’t know if she wanted them to say no way or that it was a slam dunk.
But when the women started tossing around makeover ideas, everything from temporary hair color to extensions to wardrobe options, Gia couldn’t stop grinning.
This was like her birthday, Christmas and a naughty-toy party all rolled into one. But she was going to be blowing something a lot bigger than a candle.
Chapter Two
Girlz Guide Words of Wisdom…
Anyone worth doing is worth doing in sexy shoes.
Thinking and plotting while surrounded by supportive friends was a hell of a lot more fun than standing alone, ready to launch the plan.
And while passing out at a guy’s feet could get a girl some welcome attention, Gia was pretty sure throwing up was nowhere to be found in the Girlz Guide to Seducing a Hottie. She pressed one hand against her churning stomach, wondering how long she had before she was the first of her friends to inspire a new don’t list.
Curling her toes into her sexy red leather Giuseppe Zanotti peeptoes, she forced her feet to stay still instead of hightailing it out of the nightclub.
Maybe this was a crazy idea. She wasn’t seductive like Jessa or wild like Sara and didn’t even have a fraction of Caryn’s confidence. Yet here she was, trying to pretend she was all that and a cherry on top.
A couple deep breaths got her past the hostess desk and to the entrance of The Bank Nightclub.
The rockin’ vibe of the place actually took the edge off her nerves. The idea of getting out there, moving to the beat, just losing herself in the lights and crowd, held tremendous appeal. Music pounded a hard, fast invitation. Lights flashed to the beat. Even filled with people, the nightclub was so well laid out it didn’t seem crowded. Instead it was inviting, fun and the perfect setting for her fantasy seduction.
She wanted to dance. She really did. But she couldn’t make her feet move.
“Hello, gorgeous,” drawled a friendly voice at her shoulder.
Well, that made her move. Gia damn near jumped out of her shoes. With a deep breath, she turned to brush the guy off, then pressed her lips together to keep from groaning aloud.
Holy crap. Mark Lane from Marketing.
Seriously?
She’d been here less than five minutes, and she was already busted.
Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored wall behind Mark and blinked. That really was her?
Thanks to extensions and Feria, her hair was a flowing mass of titian waves instead of her usual chestnut swing. Brown contacts, a painful squeeze of her credit card at the MAC counter and the removal of her lip ring ensured she didn’t look anything like her usual techie self.
Her body, poured into a little black dress, the glittery fabric hugging curves made all the curvier by her Bombshell bra, had never looked this way at the Monday-morning meetings.
But was it a good enough disguise?
Did Mark recognize her? Other than a few casual comments at the lunch counter, they weren’t pals. But still…
If she could fool him, she promised herself, she’d be able to nail this fantasy. And then, she hoped, she’d get to nail Luke Monroe, too.
“Hi,” she greeted with a smile that was more a twitch of her lips than her usual full-on grin. She watched him carefully, as if he were a time bomb that could explode all over her life at any second.
Her fingers itched for the phone that wasn’t in her purse, wishing she could warn Caryn to be ready to spin some damage control. If Mark outed her, within minutes everyone at Tri-Solutions would be tweeting, texting and posting on Facebook. Soon the sad, humiliating tale of that time Gia Renyard pretended she had what it took to be a bombshell in Vegas would go viral. She’d be mocked and laughed at for years.
Panic slid down her throat with greasy fingers and fear crawled through her belly. Tiny white dots spun in front of her eyes until Gia realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a huff, then forced her lips into a stiff, slightly painful smile. It wasn’t as though he’d caught her using Luke as a stripper’s pole.
“I’m Mark.” He offered his hand.
Her body almost hit the floor as tension poured away.
He didn’t know who she was.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Are you local?” he asked. “Or are you just visiting?”
Like every other guy she’d ever known, instead of waiting for a response, he launched into a soliloquy about himself. Where he was from, why he was here, how cool the CES show had been.
Gia was too excited to care.
He really didn’t know who she was.
He didn’t recognize her.
She would have jumped up and down in delight, but there was a serious danger that her boobs would fly right out of their Bombshell bra. Which would probably make it harder to get rid of the guy.
Not that he was a creep. And he was good-looking. A little more metro than masculine, he gave a smile that was pure flirtation, and the interest in his eyes was genuine. But he wasn’t Luke.