Page 14 of Tempt Me

My heart skipped a beat as I committed to doing this. So far, the only time Memphis had gone outside was when a series of unfortunate events had me running from the hotel like a crazy woman. This time, I planned to stride through the lobby like I owned the place.

I grabbed my bag and keys, thrust my chin forward, and headed out my door. In the elevator, I jiggled on my toes to check my boob wobble in the mirror. It was a wonder my tits didn’t plop right out of the corset.

At the lobby, the elevator doors slid open, and I nearly walked straight into Needledick, my asshole boss.

My legs just about crumbled to jelly at the sight of him. He’d finished work hours ago.What the hell is he doing here?He usually spent as little time in the hotel as possible.

When his jaw dropped and his eyes zoomed in on my bulging cleavage, I knew he didn’t recognize me. Needledick and I didn’t get on at the best of times—he’d thrive on the opportunity to get one over me instead of ogling my breasts.

I glared at him. “Are you right there?”

“Sure am.” He licked his lip.

“Creep,” I said as I shoved past him and out of the elevator.

I felt his eyes burning into my ass as I strode across the lobby like a superhero on a mission. I sensed Marjorie at the counter but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed for the double glass front doors and the blazing sunshine.

Once outside, I had two choices—walk to the convention center, which was about half a mile away, or catch a taxi. As I pictured the cranky cab driver taking me such a short distance, I decided to walk. Normally, this wouldn’t be a tough decision; I walked everywhere. But in six-inch heels and with both my ass and my boobs hanging out, I was totally out of my comfort zone.

Within twenty paces, a car horn tooted at me. By the time I got to the corner, I’d had seven horn toots and four wolf whistles. I couldn’t recall a time in my life when I’d had a wolf whistle.

Damn, it felt good.

It reminded me of a time as a teenager when my best friend, Chelsea-Lea, and I walked from her house into town. We were about fifteen years old and dressed up for the quarterly Blue Light Disco that took place in a large barn. A group of guys had driven past us in a beat-up old Cortina and whistled at us. Of course, Chelsea-Lea assumed it was just her they were admiring, and for some inexplicable reason, she took offense at it, whereas I would’ve been thrilled had it been me they were interested in. Back then, though, I would barely even get a glance if I was hanging around a girl like Chelsea-Lea. She and I were worlds apart where beauty was concerned. And everything else.

Now, though, with the rush of blood driving through my veins, I’d take any admiration sent my way.

At the traffic lights that controlled the crossing over the main Gold Coast highway, I stopped and pressed the button. As I waited, I was joined by seven other people who, based on their over-the-top costumes, were heading to the Supernova expo, too. I was promptly flanked by Wonder Woman and a terrible impersonation of Peter Pan.

“Hey, Poison Ivy, how you doing?” Peter Pan wiped the sweat from his brow.

“I’m excellent.”

“You been to one of these before?”

“First time.”

“Oh, you’re going to have a blast. Hey, stick with us, and we’ll show you around.”

Wonder Woman glared around me at Peter Pan, and I didn’t miss her clenched jaw. Clearly, she wasn’t impressed with his offer.

I waved my hand. “Thanks, but I’m catching up with a few friends in there.” Another lie—damn, I was getting way too good at these.

It was a surprisingly hot day for early April, and thankfully, I wasn’t wearing much. I really felt for Peter Pan though; his full-body Lycra suit would cook him alive pretty soon if he didn’t get into the air-conditioning.

We crossed the four lanes of traffic and two railway lines as a group, and the moment we hit the path on the opposite side, Wonder Woman took Peter Pan’s hand and headed off toward the convention center ahead of me. It was the first time in my life that I’d had a woman threatened by my looks. I chuckled at that little glory.

The closer I came to the convention center, the more people joined me and struck up a conversation. It seemed like everyone but me knew who Poison Ivy was. Some of the costumes were incredible—so much time and effort had been put into designing them. Many disguises I recognized, but just as many I didn’t.

The instant I climbed the steps of the convention center and walked into the spacious air-conditioned foyer, I was struck by the fun, vibrant atmosphere. Clearly, everyone was here to have a great time. It wasn’t like any expo I’d ever been to or been involved in. My hotel held conventions regularly, and one aspect of my job was coordinating them so they ran smoothly.

Compared to this one, though, the conventions I’d managed were utterly boring.

I waited in line to buy a pass, sandwiched between The Thing from The Fantastic Four and a six-foot Chewbacca. My view was blocked the entire way forward, but once I’d bought my ticket and passed through the entrance gateway, from that moment on, I was caught up in a whirlwind of chaos and fun.

I wasn’t quite sure what the purpose of Supernova was, but if it was about showing as much skin as possible while maintaining your disguise, then this expo was a winner. My outfit was skimpy, but some of the women barely even covered their nipples.

I saw Xena Warrior Princess and Captain America kissing and burst out laughing. As I glanced around, it seemed like I was the only person that was here by myself. Not that I minded—I’d been by myself for a few years now.

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