Wardrobe Malfunction
Page 19

Great. Just fucking great.
Charly
I got in really early this morning to fix Vaughn’s clothes for today’s shoot. I could have done them last night after leaving his hotel, but his driver dropped me back at my hotel and insisted on carrying my things to my room for me, which was really sweet of him. After that, I couldn’t be bothered to go back to the studio. I don’t have a sewing machine here with me, so I figured I’d go to bed early and get up early.
God, I’m such a party animal. Not.
I’m all done, his clothes fitted to size, ironed, and pressed to perfection.
Right now, I’m just heading over to his trailer to take them to him.
And I have a smile on my face.
It’s a beautiful day, and I’m wearing a dress of my own design. I make my clothes when I get time. This is an oldie but a favorite. It’s a hot-pink skater dress made from jacquard fabric, and I’m wearing it with a thin silver belt around my waist that I picked up at a thrift store. On my feet are my sparkly gunmetal-gray ankle peep-toe Kurt Geiger boots that Nick bought me last Christmas. He had them shipped over from the UK, as you can’t get them here. They’re hot as hell. The man knows me well.
My hair is up in one of those messy buns that looks like you did it in a few minutes, but you actually spent half an hour pinning and perfecting it to get it like this.
I look good.
I also feel good because fitting Vaughn last night went better than I could’ve hoped. At first, I’d thought it was going to be pistols at dawn, but then, shocker, we’d started to get along. It was nice. I liked talking with him. I was kind of a little sad to leave. He’s actually quite funny. Quick-witted. I like humorous men. Especially the hot ones.
And, when he said he trusted me…it felt big. It made me feel valued…worth something.
That doesn’t happen to me often.
Today is going to be a great day; I just know it.
Reaching what I hope is Vaughn’s trailer—Ava gave me directions to it—I knock on the door and wait.
Alex opens the door.
“Hey.” I smile.
“Charly, good to see you again.”
“I have Vaughn’s clothes.” I lift them up as proof.
“Come in.” Alex steps aside. “He’s just in makeup.”
I step inside his trailer, and…wow. It’s really nice. Nicer than my apartment.
It’s done in dark wood. A real masculine feel to it, which is perfect for Vaughn. A circular seating area with a table has an open laptop on it. Next to it is a comfy-looking sofa with a large TV fitted to the opposite wall. There’s a kitchen area, and a little further down, there’s a dressing table with a large mirror lit up with bulbs. And that’s where Vaughn is, sitting down on a chair while a woman is doing his makeup.
I walk over to Vaughn. “Hey.” I smile in the mirror at him. “I have your clothes. Where should I put them?”
He flicks his eyes at me and then immediately looks away. “Anywhere.”
“Okay.” I step back and look around for somewhere to hang them, but I don’t see a hook. “Is there a closet anywhere, so I can hang them?” I ask him.
“Just put them on the fucking table.” He throws a hand in the direction of the table where Alex is sitting with the laptop.
His hard tone takes me back a step.
I swallow back my discomfort and surprise. “I just don’t want them to get creased. I spent a long time pressing them.”
“I’ll put them in the closet in the bedroom for you.” Alex takes them from my arms, a look of pity on his face.
“Thanks,” I say quietly to Alex.
“Knock, knock,” a cheery voice calls. Natasha Warner, Vaughn’s costar in the movie, walks in.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her—in real life, that is.
She’s taller than I expected. I’d say she’s about my height. But she’s just as beautiful in real life as she is on-screen. Thin but athletic, she looks like a swimwear model. Shiny black hair sits perfectly on her shoulders. With huge bright blue eyes, her oval face is heavy with makeup, but I know that’s for the film. Even still, it doesn’t diminish her beauty.
She’s stunning.
I feel like a little kid next to her.
And she’s wearing a Stella McCartney dress that I know for a fact costs a thousand bucks.
How the other half lives. Sigh.
“God, you’re still in makeup?” She laughs, walking over to Vaughn. She stops at the back of his chair, putting her hands on the top of it, while the makeup artist continues to do his makeup. “You men take longer to get ready than us women do.”
“What can I do for you, Natasha?” His tone isn’t much friendlier than it was with me, which makes me feel a little better at the reception I got from him.
“Isn’t he a darling in the morning?” she says to me, playfully rolling her eyes. Then, she sticks her hand out to me. “We haven’t met. I’m Natasha.”
“Charly Michaels.” I take her hand and shake it. “I work in wardrobe. I was just dropping off Mr. West’s clothes. It’s really great to meet you, Ms. Warner.”
“Natasha, please. God, Vaughn, you don’t make this lovely girl call you Mr. West, do you?”
His eyes momentarily flick to me, and the look in them is filled with annoyance.
Jeez, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?
“No.” He looks back at Natasha. “I’ve told her countless times to call me Vaughn. What do you need, Natasha? Or did you just come for a girlie chat?”