“No, Anthony won’t be there,” I said, folding my flannel nightie and placing it in the bottom of my bag. “Our company isn’t up for any award here. It’s the ad agency we work with, and they invited me as a friend.”
“Well, I hope you have a good time,” said Jonathan, giving me a meaningful smile. “Will Hillier be there?”
I gave him a cross look. “I’m not looking to have that kind of good time, Jon. Just taking the chance to attend a glamorous award function. And no, Jared won’t be there.”
Jared Hillier was a star on television, and I was a fan. Had been for a long time. I had met him briefly while shooting an ad for my company a few months. Jonathan and I had dated for two years before getting married three years ago, and he’d never been overly jealous or possessive. When I met Jared at the studio, I had told Jonathan, and he’d happily agreed to my going with Jared for coffee at the studio cafe.
“You were gushing about him for weeks,” Jonathan said, grinning. It was true, of course. Most of my friends watched his shows on TV and had been quite jealous about my brief coffee date with the star.
“Yes, well, the award function isn’t at the studio, so I won’t be likely to meet him.” I held up two gowns. “Which one should I take for the main event?”
“These award functions are major glam, Vera,” said Jonathan. “I thought you’d get a new outfit. Something slinky and sexy.”
I shook my head. “I’ve already spent a bomb on flights and the salon. A new sexy dress would be a waste. Where would I wear it after?”
Jonathan and I had a social life typical of a small-town double-income couple. We had a group of old friends whom we’d known from school and college, and we met mostly at each other’s homes. When we went out, all the women dressed fairly conservatively and didn’t try to draw eyeballs and horndogs.
I finished packing, and Jonathan drove me to the airport, giving me a kiss after helping me take my bag from the car.
— — —
“So you managed to lose all that extra weight,” said Emma, clapping me on the shoulder. Emma Nowak was the Creative Director of Ruthenom, the ad agency my company worked with, and I’d collaborated with her often. “You’re looking gorgeous, girl!”
I had put on an extra dozen pounds to shoot for an ad for a weight-loss project my company was marketing. When Emma and I last met, I had been 138 pounds, about ten more than my normal weight. In the four months since, I had lost about fifteen pounds, annoying my husband. Jonathan liked me curvy and big-breasted.
“Yeah, it’s been starvation and bad moods, but I shed those extra pounds,” I said. I’d booked a room at the same hotel as the agency people and Emma had dropped in. “You’re looking great, Emma.”
Emma was at least a dozen years older than my twenty-five years, but was slim and graceful. Her new-looking sleeveless designer dress wrapped around her perfectly, and I wished I’d brought something more stylish for the event. My navy blue dress was the same knee length as hers, but looked distinctly unfashionable in comparison.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “We’ve hired a car and there’s plenty of space. Gavin had to drop out at the last minute.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you,” I said, dropping my lipstick into my clutch. “Strange cities make me a little nervous. Who else is along?”
“Our big boss, Stephen, MD of Ruthenom” said Emma, as we left the room and walked to the elevator. “And Ross. He’s a copywriter, but I guess you haven’t met him before.”
I nodded. I’d met Stephen once when he’d come to our office to meet Anthony. “I mostly connect to your company through you, Emma. Gavin handles our account but mostly talks to Anthony.”
“Will Stephen mind that I’m tagging along?” We were in the hotel lobby and waiting for the agency owner to join us.
“The Slixva ad got us a nomination,” said Emma, waving at a man in a suit. I guessed he was Ross. “Stephen is delighted and wanted Anthony to be a guest, too. We’re all happy you’re with us.”
“Wow! That ad won an award?” I had been selected to work in the ad, chiefly because they had wanted an overweight woman. The short film showed the effectiveness of our new weight-loss product.
“No, we’ve been nominated in the New Launch, Storytelling category,” Emma corrected me. “We’re not expecting to win, Vera,” she said, gently. “There’s strong competition in this category. Just getting nominated is something.”
Stephen appeared from the elevator at that moment. “Sorry to keep you people waiting,” he said, walking up to us. He looked me up and down and I sensed his disappointment, but he smiled as he shook my hand. “Hello, Verity. So glad you joined us.”
Ross drove sedately through the evening traffic, and I remained quiet as the three agency people discussed the upcoming event. I understood this was an opportunity to network, impress various stakeholders, and build connections for future work. I walked behind Emma as we entered the event venue.
A tall brunette in a beautiful black floor-length gown was at the door. Stephen handed over his business card, and she nodded respectfully. She ran her eye over Ross, Emma, and me, and murmured something to the man in a jacket standing behind her. He opened the door and smiled at us.
“Follow me, please,” he said, walking around us after we had entered. Surprisingly, the enormous hall had tables spread out through it with a stage at the far end. The usher led us to a table with six chairs around it near the back of the hall.
Ross opened the maroon paper bag he was carrying and began setting out agency brochures and business cards. Stephen looked around unhappily, and it was obvious he didn’t like being seated so far back from the stage.
“I thought it would be like a theater,” I whispered to Emma, as she sat down next to me. “Everyone sitting facing the stage.”
“Yes, our Addys and Clios are like that,” she said, nodding. “Those are very formal and prestigious. This is a pretty casual affair. More for meeting people and networking. People circulate, visit each other’s tables, exchange business cards, and so on while the awards are being given out on stage.”
“The women are all dolled up,” I observed, looking around even as the lights dimmed. “Not all the men, though.”
“We don’t have a dress code.” Emma shrugged. “Some men wear tuxedos, and some turn up in shirts. Some try to prove that ad men are madmen.” She lowered her voice as a woman approached us. “And some women.”
“Hi, Emma,” said the young woman, stopping near our table. I noticed her slim figure and flawless skin through the sheer pastel pink confection she was wearing. Her sexy lace bra and thong were obvious through the translucent material. “Good to see you here.”
“Hi, Tricia,” said Emma, hugging her and kissing the air near both cheeks. “Yeah, great to see you. This is Verity. She models for us.”
Tricia looked surprised as she held out her hand. “Good to meet you, Verity,” she said as I murmured a greeting. “I guess you’ve come straight from the airport.”
She moved on, sinking gracefully into a chair at a table near the front as Emma grinned and explained. “Tricia is an account executive. Not smart enough to manage a client account, but account managers take her to client meetings. Visual appeal.”
“Got it, I think,” I said, glancing at her once more. “Yes, I can see it. What was the airport thingie?”
“Umm, I think she meant you hadn’t had time to dress for the event,” said Emma, not looking at me. “Oh, look. It’s Kent McIntyre. He hardly ever attends these events.”
“Kent is senior partner of Konvey Marketing,” said Stephen, now sitting at our table. “They’ve won a ton of awards, so he doesn’t attend many functions these days.”
The stage still had its curtains closed, and Ross and Emma pointed out a few of the people at other tables. Several men and women stopped by our table to chat for a few moments before moving on. Stephen had spotted more friends and was talking to them at a nearby table.
An exquisite girl floated by, stopped, and turned back. “Ross! How nice to see you here!”
“Uh, yeah, the agency chose me this year,” said Ross, standing and struggling to maintain eye contact with her. Her dress started around the navel, being held up by two broad straps that covered her nipples — most of the time. “Umm, you know Emma, of course. And this is Verity. Vera, this is Lana.”
Lana had hugged Emma and now turned to me. Looking me up and down, she shook hands and smiled just as the lights dimmed. “Oh, we’re starting,” she squealed. “I must get to our table.”
“I feel like such a frump!” I declared. “People don’t even notice me, with all the ravishing girls in hot dresses.”
“Matter of taste, Verity,” said Ross, comfortingly. “Not everyone likes these stick-figured girls.”
“Mmm, I’m lucky that way,” I mused. “Jonathan likes me to be, uh, curvy.” He’d been a bit miffed that I had continued my diet even after I’d reached my original weight.
“You’re looking great, babe,” said Emma, reaching across the table to hold my hand for a moment. “And lots of men like their women voluptuous. It’s only the fashion industry that goes the other way.”
The stage curtains had parted, and the emcee, a distinguished-looking Black man in a tuxedo, strode to the podium. After welcoming everyone, he gave a short speech about the traditions and history of the awards (apparently, they had started three years ago). Then he called out a category, and the nominations began appearing on the large screen.
“Why’s that guy putting on a mask?” I asked Ross, gesturing to a tall man in a black outfit with a cape.
“Yeah, he’s with TD Agency,” said Ross, watching the screen. He added, after the nominations ended. “He was Zorro in an ad for a games company.”
“If the agency wins, he’ll go on stage with the agency people,” put in Stephen, seeing I still looked mystified. “Makes for an interesting picture for the agency, and exposure for the model.”
“Got it.” I watched as Zorro threw his mask down on their table as some other agency won the award. “Uh, those two girls stripping down to their underwear?”
“That’s the Stanning agencies table,” said Stephen, frowning. “Not sure what’s on.”
“They have the Ultra Intimates account,” said Ross. “Print ads category, I think.” He licked his lips. “They might win just on visual appeal.”
They didn’t, however, and the two models looked disappointed not to have their moment of publicity. Emma was tapping my arm, and I looked at her questioningly.
“Vera, if we win…” She left the sentence unfinished. Ross and Stephen seemed to sit up straight as they stared at me, and I felt a frisson of apprehension.
“Uh, I haven’t got the outfits I wore for the shoots,” I said, deliberately misunderstanding Emma.
I knew perfectly well what she was hinting at. The ad we had shot had four short scenes, and I had been nude in two. The shoot had been scary at first, but I had gotten used to being nude on the set. I had met Jared Hillier, who had been shooting on another soundstage, and he’d taken me for coffee without giving me the chance to get dressed.
Ross grinned. “Those outfits aren’t what people will expect once they see the ad on the screen during the nominations.”
“Uh, can I actually do that? Won’t I get thrown out of the event?” I looked at Emma nervously, then at Stephen. Both had broad grins on their faces.
“I’m sure nothing like that will happen, Verity,” said Stephen, reassuringly. “You’ll get a lot of applause and maybe some offers.”
“I don’t know,” I said, haltingly. My emotions were swinging wildly between excitement and dread. It seemed such an extreme thing to do. I looked at the Stanning table and noticed the two models were rummaging unhurriedly in their bags for their clothes.
“If you do go on stage nude,” said Emma, thoughtfully, ” everyone in the hall will have seen your body on screen a minute before. So it won’t matter.”
“Hey, that’s right.” Ross nodded his head emphatically. “They’re going to see you nude anyway, so you might as well have some fun.”
“No harm, Verity,” said Stephen, smiling gently at my inquiring look. “But decide quickly. Our category will be called in about three minutes.”
“I’ll do it!” I said. “Ross, please…” I turned my back to him and felt him unzip my dress. Emma helped me lift my dress over my head without messing my hair. Well, I had spent time and money on my hair at the salon.
I heard someone behind me say “wow!” as I sat down. Ross unhooked my bra, and I pulled it down my arms and handed it to Emma. Lifting my hips, I slid my panties over them and down my legs.
“Way to go!” I turned around to see a middle-aged woman at the next table beaming at me. “What a great body you have, dear. Going up soon?” She motioned towards the stage.
“Well, if we win.” I answered in a low voice, suddenly, perversely anxious to avoid drawing attention to myself. She nodded, and I turned to see how my own table was taking my descent into impropriety.
Ross looked delighted. He ran his eyes over my bountiful breasts and mouthed “beautiful.” Emma looked amused and gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Even Stephen looked pleased, but I wondered what he would feel if he had to walk on stage with me.
I felt the cold air on my body as I sat back in my chair and was grateful the air-conditioning was moderate. I heard an excited hum around me and tried to ignore the surreptitious phone cameras aimed at our table. My bare body had been on late-night TV for several months now, after all.
“Just one more category to go after this one,” whispered Emma, leaning toward me. “It’ll be ten minutes. Will you be okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine, Emma, thanks.” I knew people behind us and to the sides had all seen me stripping and were staring at me. Apparently, they’d been messaging, too, and heads were turning from the tables ahead of us. “Will all four of us be going up, if we win?”
“You bet!” Ross exclaimed. “Going up on stage to receive an award is the best experience. Everyone looking at you and wishing it was them on the stage. The clapping and cheering. The congratulations after you come down. It’s awesome!”
“Well, fingers crossed,” I said. We all watched impatiently as the CEO of the winning agency made a long speech thanking his family, his dogs, and for some reason, the Red Maple trees lining his driveway.
“He doesn’t seem to think his employees contributed,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see a gray-haired woman standing behind me, shaking her head. “Some people were just never meant to be a boss.”
“Hallo, Winnie,” said Stephen, standing up and shaking hands with a warm smile. “People, this is Winifred Danish. She freelances as a graphic artist. You’ve worked with her, Emma. This is Ross, Ruthenom’s copywriter, and this is Verity, a model.”
“Yes, the slimming potion commercial,” said Winifred. She shook hands, then grinned. “I recognized you as soon as you dropped your clothes.”
Ross laughed, Emma and Stephen smiled. I came dangerously close to giggling, but managed to turn it into soft laughter. Stephen pulled out a chair next to himself and seated Winifred.
The tree lover and his team had left the stage. Awakening, the emcee announced the next category, and the nominated ads appeared on the screen one by one for a few seconds each. The audience clapped enthusiastically for each one.
What would the reaction to our commercial be? I’d seen the lingerie ad earlier, and a resort commercial had featured several men and women in swimwear. So far, there hadn’t been any nude women or men in any of the nominated ads. The creative team had insisted on the nude scenes to show genuine weight loss — no padding for the before scenes, no corsets or shapers for the after scenes.
People close to me seemed to have gotten used to me sitting nude at the table. Those seated closer to the stage were discovering the joys of ogling my breasts. Men and women were nudging each other and then turning around to look at the parts of my nude body above the table.
“A lot of guys are suddenly thirsty,” said Ross, sotto voice, and we struggled to contain our laughter. Several men were leaving their tables to walk past our table to the back, where a table with water had been set up. One of them stopped to talk to Stephen, who invited him to sit with us, introducing him as Joseph.
I was thrilled to be causing such a stir, and I could see the emcee was a little miffed that everyone’s attention was not on him. “Who’s the emcee?” I asked Ross. He was doing a restrained job, I thought, very unlike most I had seen.
“That’s Myron Walker,” he answered. “He did the first ceremony three years ago, and everyone loves him. He doesn’t try to be too clever and lets the agency folk talk.”
“That’s important,” said Stephen, smiling. I noticed he was somewhat used to me now and wasn’t dropping his gaze to my nipples quite so often. “Everyone here is good with words. Copywriters and other creatives. So a stand-up comedian type wouldn’t work for us.”
I nodded. “Yes, I get that. I just asked because he’s so friendly with everyone. Like he knows them well.”
“Well, he does,” said Ross. “This is his fourth time. He’s at the afterparty afterwards, so he’s met almost everyone many times.”
I nodded. Myron must be popular with the ladies, I thought. His chocolate brown skin emphasized his symmetrical features and his perfectly even teeth gave him a devastating smile. A younger version of Denzel Washington, whom I’d crushed over in my school days.
Stephen broke off his conversation with Winifred and Joseph to look at me. “Verity, are you okay? I mean, will you be all right going on stage if we win? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“That’s kind of you, Stephen.” I thought for a moment as everyone at the table waited. “No, I’m all right, truly. It’s only the first few minutes after losing my clothes that are hard. I’m fine now.”
Stephen smiled and nodded. Winifred and Joseph took up the conversation again, the latter after a lingering look at my breasts. Myron and an usher were guiding half a dozen men and women off the stage with their award. I wondered where the door they passed through led to.
“We noticed this at the studio,” said Emma, thoughtfully. “Every time you took off the robe, you looked like a dying duck for the first few minutes.”
I remembered. The director’s solution had been to banish the robe from the set for the rest of the day. And it had worked. I had become relaxed with being nude and had even enjoyed the appreciative looks and compliments.
Stephen sat up straight and focused on the screen as Myron called out the New Launch, Storytelling category. Ross and Emma had their eyes on the screen, too, but I knew they were looking at me, too, wondering how I’d react to seeing myself nude on the big screen.
Breakfast cereal. That was the first nomination, showing two cute children eating cereal and growing bigger and stronger. I wondered who had set the order, as our ad came up next, showing me eating Slixva and getting slimmer and sexier.
The hall seemed to hold its breath as I appeared nude on the big screen. By now, most people knew I was sitting nude at the back of the hall. As the short clip faded, almost every head was turned around to look at me, and I squirmed at the sudden attention.
The other three nominated ads got somewhat ignored, but one of them won the award. The agency that won went up the stairs, giving each other high fives on the way to collect the award.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win, Stephen,” I said softly.
He shrugged. “It was an effective ad. We’ve had great sales.”
Emma gave a wan smile. “Thanks, love. That’s sweet of you.” Ross nodded and smiled, too.
“Too bad you won’t get to go up on stage, Vera,” he said, trying for levity. Joseph, who had just stood up to leave, whipped around.
“Do you want to go?” he asked, grinning at me. “You’re a brave girl, then!”
“Uh, if we had won, it would have been nice.” I realized I wasn’t coherent. I was trying to say that it would have been nice to go up there because it would mean our ad had won the award.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He raised an eyebrow at Stephen before turning back to me. “Well, our agency is nominated in two categories. Come along to our table for a while. We’ll take you if we win.”
I looked at Emma for support. I wasn’t keen to walk up unless it was with the team that made our ad. Stephen spoke up before Emma could say anything.
“That’s a great idea, Joe,” he said, rising. “Let’s go, Verity. We’ll have a better view of the stage from their table, if nothing else.”
Ross held out the bag with my clothes, but Joseph had already put his arm through mine. With Stephen on my other flank, I walked toward the front of the hall. I heard a couple of wolf whistles as I passed.
Sitting at a table at the back was very different from walking through a crowd to the front. The table had covered half my body, and I was able to partially ignore the stares by talking to Emma and Ross. Now, I was entirely on display. Instead of just my breasts, people were ogling my butt and pussy, too.
Joseph led the way, and Stephen followed him, his arm through mine. People we passed seemed to hold their breath and then let it out in gasps or whistles. I felt every eye in the hall on my bare skin as I walked those steps to Joseph’s table. Even Myron, hitherto fluent and composed, faltered in his spiel.
Joseph stopped at a large table close to the stage and made the introductions. Ashton was the Managing Director of Kelway, a short man with touches of gray in his hair. The half a dozen people around the table all stood one by one to shake my hand.
Stephen knew most people at the table and was already sitting by the time Joseph finished introducing me. With relief, I sat down and turned to see what was happening on the stage.
“The next category is Poster, Point of Purchase,” murmured Joseph. He was sitting next to me. “We’re nominated. Ramona designed that one.”
Ramona was sitting next to Ashton, and it was obvious she was on edge. Ashton was patting her forearm on the table from time to time and murmuring to her.
A thought struck me, and I turned to Joseph. “Uh, if Kelway wins, won’t Ramona resent me going up and, sort of, stealing her attention?”
“Not at all,” he reassured me. “We had our own model fixed up, but she got a call for an audition, so off she went. Left us high and dry.”
“No regrets now,” said the woman on my other side, a blonde like me, but somewhat older than my twenty-five years. I remembered her name was Esther. “She was a skinny thing. You’re a bombshell.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” I said. “But I thought thin models were the thing.”
“Oh, sure, the fashion industry loves them,” said Esther. “But look at all the men around. Plenty of models at almost every table, but they’re all drooling over you.”
Well, duh. I was the only one completely nude. The others were only half-nude. Still, it felt nice to be complimented by another woman. I saw everyone around the table tense and knew their category had been called.
Five posters appeared on the screen one by one, to polite applause. Ramona was leaning forward, and I felt the urge to remind her to breathe. Ashton was squeezing her hand as we all stared at Kent McIntyre, who Myron had called to the stage to present this award.
“And the greatest point of purchase poster was created by… Kelway!” he announced, and Esther whooped in my ear, almost deafening me. Joseph leaned over the table to congratulate Ramona, and a moment later, she was on her feet, being hugged by her colleagues.
Joseph stood up and straightened his jacket. Catching Ashton’s eye, he nodded at me, and Ashton nodded, grinning. I had a moment of terror as I realized I would be asked to accompany the winning team onto the stage.
But I had wanted this. To have a front row seat at the event, and to go on stage for a moment of glory and applause. Being naked had made it possible. Joseph certainly would not have invited me to their table had I been clothed.
Ramona and Ashton led the way to the stage, and the rest of us followed. Not Stephen, though. As a member of another agency, it would have been inappropriate. He stood and clapped as we rose, then moved away towards his own table.
I looked at the steps and immediately remembered the videos of actresses falling on their way to collect their Oscar. But at least they tumbled in their designer gowns. If I tripped, everyone would be treated to my flying breasts and tumbling butt and legs.
Looking down at my feet, I wondered if I could stop and take off the three-inch heels. But most of the Kelway team was already on the stage, and I didn’t want to hold up the show. I felt an arm go around my waist and looked around to see Joseph holding me.
“Don’t worry about the stairs. We’ll go up together.” With him holding me, I negotiated the stairs safely and emerged unscathed on the stage. I was startled, then happy, at the loud applause and cheering before remembering they were for my naked body.
Myron came up to me and engulfed me in a warm hug. We were on stage with hundreds of eyes and cameras on us; his hands stayed on my back without wandering. Maybe the hug lasted a teeny bit longer than with others?
I grinned like a goofball coming out of the hug and turned away from the spectators to hide it. Myron had felt strong and buffed even through his thick tuxedo. I looked down ruefully and wished my nipples wouldn’t become so long when erect.
Myron had finished introducing the Kelway team, mentioning me as a model. He turned to a stern-looking woman in a pantsuit who would present the award, introducing her as the MD of an agency. An assistant brought the award to her on a platter, which she presented to Ramona and Ashton, who had stepped forward together. I joined the other Kelway people in clapping and cheering.
The photographer took a couple of pictures of the award being handed over, and I was content to be hidden behind Joseph and Esther. Myron herded us off the stage swiftly, no doubt wanting to move on to the next category.
Now that I’d had my stage experience, I was looking forward to getting back to the Ruthenom table and getting my clothes from Ross. I could slip away to the ladies’ room and get dressed without drawing any more attention to myself.
Ashton led the way to the door at the end of the stage. I’d assumed it led to a passage that allowed us to enter the main hall discreetly, but to my dismay, I found myself in a small hall packed with people.
“Welcome to Victors Hall!” an usher said to us and pointed to a wall with a large logo and the year in shiny letters. “You can have team pictures with the award here. The bar’s at the back, around the corner.”
“Uh, I’m not part of Kelway,” I said, as the team gathered in front of the logo. “I should get back to the Ruthenom table.”
“Nonsense!” said Ramona, and Ashton nodded. “You came with us to collect the award, you should be in the pictures.”
The photographer announced he was ready, and reluctantly, I joined the Kelway bunch. The photographer directed us through several poses, and Ashton ensured everyone had at least one picture holding the trophy. I concentrated on keeping my legs crossed and hiding as much of my bust as I could without looking awkward.
Ashton’s people were photography enthusiasts. They took pictures standing, sitting, smiling, holding each other and me, and kept the photographer busy for several minutes. Finally, a new group entered the Victors Hall, and we stopped.
“Don’t slip away just yet,” wheedled Esther, as I looked longingly at the door. “Have a drink with us to celebrate. Ashton is already at the bar.”
Nodding reluctantly, I walked deeper into the hall toward the bar. Ashton and Joseph were at the bar, and I hoped they wouldn’t get anything too strong for me. I most certainly didn’t want to be drunk in this situation.
The two men appeared with a platter, and to my relief, they had two glasses of wine. I moved quickly to snag one of them and raised my glass as Ashton toasted his team.
The small hall was busy, but we found a few tall stools unoccupied. Almost a third of the people initially in the main hall were here by now, having won some award or other. The main hall had been filled with expectation and was quiet and apprehensive. This bunch had won awards and were celebrating happily and loudly.
A lot of people came over to us and asked to be introduced to me. I told them that I wasn’t a full-time model and wasn’t taking on any more assignments right now. I noticed that the others in my group had finished their drink and a second round had appeared.
“Finish your drink,” Verity,” said Joseph, encouragingly. “We got you another glass.”
“Uh, no, thank you very much, Joseph,” I said. “Emma must be wondering why I’m taking so long.” I turned to Ashton. “Thank you very much for letting me share in your opportunity. I truly appreciate the experience.”
With a few words to Esther and Ramona, I turned and hurried off towards the door. As I reached it, it opened, and I almost bumped into a Black man in a tuxedo — Myron!
“Well, hello again,” he said, with that lethal smile. At close range, it was even more deadly, and I froze, unable to decide what to do next. Myron was at ease, however. “Such a pleasure to meet you, Verity. I saw your ad during the rehearsals, but you’re far lovelier in person.”
“Uh, thanks! Thanks a ton,” I managed to say, conscious of his gaze comfortably going up and down my naked body. “You did a great job of running the awards.”
“Thank you, thank you!” he said, unleashing that dangerous smile again. “Can I get you a drink, Verity?”
I’d have loved to have one with him, but having just refused a drink with the Kelway people, I didn’t want to be seen having one. So I made an excuse and hoped Myron wouldn’t leave to get to the bar. Several groups had come in after us, and once the pictures were done, everyone had made a beeline for the bar.
Myron seemed content to chat with me, and we moved to an alcove by the window. There was a bench seat placed there, and we both squeezed onto it. I was aware of the smooth material of his tuxedo for the second time in the evening.
I was somewhat tongue-tied, but Myron carried the conversation easily. I was happy to listen to his stories of earlier award nights. After a while, I loosened up and told him about the shooting of the Slixva ad and my fangirl moment with Hillier.
All of a sudden, it struck me. If Myron was here, that meant…
“Myron! Is the awards ceremony over?” I was frantic. My clothes were with Ross, and if he left for the afterparty, I would be stranded naked.
“Yes, we’re done, why?” He was surprised by my alarm. “There were only about three categories after yours, I think.”
“I must get back, Myron,” I said, desperately. “I hope Ross and Emma haven’t left.”
“Hang on,” he protested. “We were just getting to know each other.”
“I have to get my clothes,” I said, over my shoulder, as I hurried out the door. I found the door to the main hall, and my heart sank as I rushed in. The hall was dark and looked empty. I leaned on the wall and took deep breaths, trying to calm myself.
“Vera! Vera!” I heard the voice outside and pushed through the door, almost knocking Emma over. “Sorry, Emma.” I was light-headed with relief and grabbed hold of her.
She returned my hug, then pulled back and smiled. “You were gone a long time.”
“Yes, the Kelway people insisted on lots of pictures, and then got a drink.” I shook my head and confessed. “Then I met Myron.’
“Magical Myron, everyone’s heartthrob,” Emma giggled. “Did he take your number?”
“No, I realized that the event must be over, and you people might leave.”
“Yes, we needed to, but we had your clothes,” she said reproachfully. “I waited here, and Ross went down to the other exit, in case you went that way.”
“Doesn’t he have to go to the afterparty?” I asked as we walked toward the stairs.
“No, he’s not going, so it’s okay.” She had her phone out. “I’ll see where he can meet us with your clothes. You probably don’t want to go out the door bare-assed.”
She grinned and turned to me. “Or do you?”
“No, no, I’ve had enough,” I protested. “It was fun going up on stage, but I don’t want to go outside like this.”
Emma’s phone connected. “Hello, Ross?… Yes, we’re outside the event hall… she got held up by the Kelway people for pictures and a drink…Oh, no…Well, you have to…Okay, see you then.”
“Well, well,” she said, putting her phone away. “It appears there will be some payback for abandoning us.” She smiled sympathetically. “Ross was waiting with your clothes, but Stephen asked him to drop him off at the afterparty. Only he hired a car, so he had to go.”
“And?” I asked with trepidation. “Did he leave my clothes with someone?”
Emma shrugged. “He was out on the street. Not possible.” She nodded gently at my horrified look. “We’ll get you to the hotel, don’t worry. I’ll call an Uber. But we’ll have to walk to the corner.”
It could have been worse, I thought, as I walked with Emma. She could have left with the others, too, for the afterparty, leaving me stranded. Yes, I was lucky. Sort of.
I kept my hands folded across my chest to prevent my generous boobs from bouncing and drawing attention. Not that it did any damn good. Night had fallen, but the street was lit and there were people walking on the pavement.
“Holy shit!” I heard as we stepped out of the building. I sensed a group of college guys walking towards us and put my head down and moved partially behind Emma. The group parted and stood on both sides of the pavement like an honor guard, shamelessly ogling me as I walked between them.
The boys hadn’t had time to get their phones out, but the other pedestrians had plenty of opportunity. There were only a few people on the street, but most of them had their phones out and pointed at us as we walked. A couple of them called out, asking my name, but we shook our heads. The pictures and videos would be up on the net, but I didn’t need them tagged with my name.
“Our ride will be here in a minute,” said Emma softly. “Just hang on.” I nodded, staring off into the distance and trying to ignore the antics of people near me. “Ross is dropping Stephen off and then driving back to our hotel. We were thinking of ordering room service.”
“That’ll be great,” I said, thankfully. “I don’t want to go out again.”
“That’s settled, then,” said Emma, shooing away a guy in a college shirt who was trying to take close-ups of my pussy. “Did you leave your key card at the front desk?”
“No, it’s in my purse. With my clothes.” Everything that can go wrong, will, and all that. “The front desk can make me a duplicate, can’t they?”
“It takes several minutes,” said Emma, thoughtfully. “And they’ll ask for ID. We’ll go to my room and wait for Ross to come with your clothes and key.” She looked along the street. “I think that’s our ride.”
A green Camry came to a stop near us, and Emma held the door open for me. I dived in, happy to be out of public view. She followed me and shut the door, asking the driver to move.
“What’s going on, ma’am?” he asked. “Is it something I need to report?”
“Nothing like that,” I said, hastily. “We were at the award show, and…”
“Someone played a dirty trick on her,” went on Emma, as I ran out of explanation. “Stole her clothes while she was getting her paint removed.”
“But I’ll be fine once you drop us at our hotel,” I said, and that seemed to satisfy him. He drove smoothly, and it was only when he stopped at our hotel that I realized I wouldn’t be fine.
The lobby wasn’t as busy as in the morning, but there were several guests at the front desk as well as in the lobby. Emma marched up to the desk and asked for her key card. The receptionist behind the desk asked her to wait without looking up.
“Miss,” said Emma firmly, “my friend here has lost her clothes and we need to go up to our suite quickly. Please.”
Everyone in the lobby had noticed me as we walked in, and the hum of conversation had stopped. The receptionist must have been the only person not to have realized that a nude woman was in attendance. Her jaw dropped as she saw me standing before her in all my bare-assed glory.
“Uh, yes, sure, sure,” she stammered. “I’ll get it.” In her nervousness, she pulled out a stack of key cards and dropped them. I waited in an agony of impatience, with half a hundred eyes raking over my body, as she knelt on the floor to collect them. Her colleague gave me a sympathetic glance and came to help sort through the mixed-up key cards and find the correct one.
We were lucky with the elevator. There was one standing on the ground floor, and one of the guests held it open as we rushed towards it. I was crushed against the wall, and I felt someone run their fingers along my butt before the door opened with a ding on our floor.
Emma peered out first. “All clear. Let’s run!”
We made it to her room without meeting anyone. “What a relief!” I said as Emma shut the door behind us. “Thanks a million times, Emma. You’ve been a rock.”
“You’re welcome, love.” Emma took off her heels and sighed. “Well, now, the question. Do you want to borrow something to wear, or wait for Ross and your clothes?”
— — —
