Here's Lookin' at You, Kidd by Diane Vallere

Author:Diane Vallere [Vallere, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939197795
Publisher: Polyester Press

17

Bang bang

I took another step back and bumped into the table. The cup of espresso fell over and spilled onto my line sheets. I grabbed the mound of samples to get them out of the path of liquid and looked around for something to blot the spill.

It was a bad time for me to pop out from behind the private vendor appointment partition and announce my presence. It was a bad time for me to be anywhere at Intimate Mode, at least until I had a chance to find out who knew what and why, but one thing was certain: there was more to Lydia’s death than met the eye. Considering the photo of her backside on the cover of the Las Vegas Sun, there was a whole lot of her that met the eye. I had two more days to work the trade show, and I had to use that time wisely.

Aside from the front entrance that would have put me in the path of Teresa and Chryssinda, there was one other way out. Under the pipe and drape that separated Cheeky Panties from the booth behind them.

I pulled my lanyard off and shoved it into my laptop bag. I mopped up the spilled espresso with a pair of pink cotton Cheeky panties and thrust the soiled sample into the bottom of my laptop bag too, and then ducked under the back curtain.

I’d successfully gotten away from Joey Cheeks’ booth, but I hadn’t given much thought to the location where I’d turn up. Face to face with a pair of ankles, one of which was tattooed with a small ink-black fleur-de-lis. I stood up.

“Oh my gosh, you scared me!” said the owner of the ankles, a curvaceous black woman in a plush white terrycloth robe. “You’re the sub? I’m Lisa.”

“I’m Samantha.”

She glanced at my body. “I told them I needed somebody with some meat on their bones. Turn around.”

I turned.

“Hard to tell when you got all your clothes on.”

“One of the models called me fluffy,” I offered.

She checked me out and nodded. “You’ll do. Did they give you a sample when you got here?”

I shook my head.

She picked up a garment. “Here,” she said. “You better hurry up and change because we’re supposed to hit the floor in ten minutes and your makeup needs a boost.”

“I’m not—I don’t think—”

“Girl, is this your first intimate apparel show? Please.” She pulled her terrycloth robe open like a flasher and Bam! It was cleavage and hips. “This is about female empowerment. Women see us in this product, they see themselves in this product. Men see us in this product, they see confidence. Either way, we go out there like this, and buyers write orders. That’s our job. You model sunglasses? You show them your face because that’s where the sunglasses go. You model shoes? You show them your feet because that’s where the shoes go.”

I looked at the black garment. It must be some sort of sleepwear. “What are we modeling today?”

She turned around and handed me a tube of red lipstick.

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