Page 31 of Wicked Duty
My jaw clenches. I don’t like the way Lucy causes a stir everywhere she goes. Makes my job a lot fucking harder. I was honestly hoping she’d bomb today, but?—
A voice lurches through the speaker system.
The contestants freeze on the spot, loyal subjects listening for their ruler’s decree.
“We will now announce the round two finalists.”
Indrawn breaths swell around the room.
I chew the inside of my cheek, hoping Lucy’s not on the list.
“Adrian Madriaga, Wendy Gao, Yvette Williams, Kristina Jackson, Lucy Marlow, Heather Kincaid?—”
Bursts of excited screams nearly deafen me. I even catch Lucy jumping up and down like a child at a birthday party when someone breaks out the cake.
I only learned about this Runway Revolution audition a few hours ago, but even I know what happens next.
Round two finalists advance to round three immediately, then three to four, and so on until they get to some big final show with the few remaining women. Fan-fucking-tastic for me.
The room turns over as the contestants who didn’t advance are ushered out, and the remaining young women hurry into dressing rooms to change into their round three outfits.
I return to my place at the back of the ballroom with a perfect view of the stage.
Through the earpiece I copped on arrival, thanks to a quick call to the producer from Shane Gallagher, I eavesdrop on the conversations of other security personnel while watching the entrances and exits.
After fifteen minutes of models strutting like their lives depend on it, Lucy appears at the head of the runway.
A striking red gown the show must’ve provided hugs her sleek figure, showcasing her stunning features. One knee pops out of a mile-high slit that reaches all the way to her hip.
My greedy eyes drink her in. The woman’s practically sin incarnate. A temptress created to incite lust and lead horny men straight to hell by our dicks.
Remember, she’s shallow. Arrogant. Spoiled. Even if she could win Personality of the Year, she’s a client. Your job.
As soon as the previous contestant finishes her final pose and pivots off the catwalk, Lucy’s up. Poised. Cocky. Mysterious. Working her sultry, evasive eyes in sync with her long, mesmerizing legs while she prowls down the runway and hypnotizes the audience, daring them to glimpse away.
My muscles coil tight, alert and anxious, and I work to maintain a neutral facade.
I’m going to blow my cover if I don’t stop underestimating her.
What kind of trick will she try next? Thanks to her unpredictability, I can’t relax. I need to be ready at a moment’s notice to preempt another wild act designed to provoke reactions from judges and viewers.
As much as it pains me, I have to admit that Lucy has talent. She stands out from the other women like a glittering amethyst geode in a room full of cubic zirconias.
Which equates to more work for me, since the goal is to keep her flying underneath the radar.
Lucy struts to the end of the stage and strikes a suggestive pose, almost like she’s making love to the dress sheathing her statuesque body.
Hell, even if protecting her wasn’t my job, I’m not sure I could pry my eyes away.
My annoyance flares again when I recall all the crap she’s put me through in the last week. Sexy body and seductive confidence aside, she’s still the same pain in the ass, immature, temper-tantrum-throwing woman who’s gone out of her way to irritate me ever since our first meeting.
My ire lingers while the other contestants join Lucy onstage for the photo portion of the evening. Cameras flash as the women stand at odd, uncomfortable-looking angles.
The judges rise from their seats, half of them going off to deliberate, while a few remain to help supervise the shoot. One of the male judges hops onto the stage to offer individual feedback to the contestants one by one.
When he gets to Lucy, he stops, watching her for longer than he observed any of the others. He caresses the curve of her face, tilting her head more toward the light.
Fire erupts in my veins the second his fingers connect with her skin. My temperature rises even more when Lucy’s body tenses and her smile falters.
