Snap Shots Series: Picture Perfect
"So who's relative are you?" He leaned in close due to the noise of the party and as his bass voice came out his breath tickled her ear; a sensation that was definitely not a welcomed one. Although he smelled of cologne, which was welcome change from the stale smoke in the room, she silently wished that she'd worn her hair down that night instead of wrapping it into a clip so that it was off her shoulders and neck.
"Excuse me?" she asked sipping her non-alcoholic drink she stepped back and looked him in the eyes. The slightly bloodshot pupils that stared back at her were a gorgeous shade of green and she would have appreciated them if they didn't have that lusty look in them that were clearly directed in her general direction.
"It seems that every time anyone introduces me to anyone at these kinds of things it's because the person is somebody's relative." He craned his neck to look around the party for a moment, tugging at the collar of the black shirt he wore then looked back at her as if he was trying to match her face to someone's in the crowd. "So who do you belong to?"
"Praise the Lord!" She sighed.
After a year of attending a million other publicity parties she'd finally found someone who didn't know who she was and she hoped that she could keep it that way for a few more minutes.
"Huh?" He turned and stared at her as she celebrated her victory of the evening.
"Praise the Lord," she repeated. "Finally, someone who doesn't know who I am. And a male at that."
"Doesn't know who YOU are?" He seemed confused b her comment. He sipped his drink. She could tell he was trying to cover for his lack of the upper hand in the situation.
"You really are clueless aren't you?" she commented.
He stared at her with a blank expression on his face.
"Maybe because I have all my clothes on."
"What?" his expression changed to one of shock. He took his cup away from his face and began to choke a bit.
She laughed realizing what her comment had sounded like. "No. No. I model swimsuits for Speedo and some other companies."
This was when the guy would normally try and picture her in a swimsuit. He was like the others. His eyes darted from her face, down her body and back up, not once, but twice. When he made eye contact with her again his eyes were bright with appreciation, as if she'd been waiting for his approval or disapproval of her figure.
Normally it was a bit challenging for guys to picture her that way. She usually dressed in baggy clothes, jeans and t-shirts were more her style, but at the moment she was wearing a right black dress. The designer outfit was perfect for the night of partying, but didn't leave much to the imagination; an argument she threw at her agent the day before when the dress had arrived at the hotel.
"So if I don't know who you are, do you know who I am?" he asked. He didn't really sound cocky, but she expected him to considering the almost over confident look he had on his face now.
She bit her lip debating whether to tell him that he was an idiot if she didn't think that people knew him. She'd been on magazine covers and a few calendars that year, but *NSYNC and Lance had been around for two years now. She didn't think that anyone in the free world would mistake him for someone else. If her agent had been there with her he would have scolded her for the action of biting her lip. It was a habit she was trying to break along with her habit of biting her nails.
"What is it that they call you?" she asked, "Scoop is it? I guess they are going to have to take the name away if you don't know my name LANCE."
Lance's expression changed. It was as if she'd angered him by spitting the information she knew about him at him. "Joey's the one who knows all the models." He looked around again acting as if he was bored with her already. "I usually know all the IMPORTANT information."
She wanted to smack him. In his own little stealth way he'd just insulted her. To her face. At least most people waited until she turned her back.
"You aren't going to get all bitchy supermodel on me are you?"
"Excuse me?" she asked putting her hand on her hip she glared at him.
"You know," he said with a laugh. "Throw a fit or call your agent or your publicist to yell at me for you."
"Ugh! No!" She started to walk away from him. She didn't want to cause a scene. She needed to get away as soon as she could.
"Come on Princess," he said, "Let's dance."
She uncurled his fingers from around her arm and pushed his hand back at him. "Maybe when you learn my name you bleach-blond-albino-teeny-bopper!" She turned on her heel and stalked away from him ignoring the sound of laughter that she heard coming from him.
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