Just an acting job, I remind myself. No need to be nervous. If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s making women happy.
I knock lightly and step into the room. Cassandra is there, looking like the classic Los Angeles executive. The three-inch chocolate brown suede shoes that she wears make her appear taller than she really is. She wears a sleeveless beige sheath dress with a slim belt that matches the shoes and an eye-catching necklace made of highly polished squares of some exotic wood. She is standing by the window talking to the woman I assume has hired me.
In contrast to Cassandra, the other woman is younger, probably in her early twenties, and she’s on the short side, barely five feet tall. Her breasts and hips are a little bigger than you usually see on a girl that height, but she has a small waist that gives her a nice little hourglass figure. Her wavy, dark brown hair is cut short in a bob that makes her look even younger. She’s dressed in a retro-style white dress with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt that’s covered in a pattern of what looks like little red cherries. She wears a cropped red cardigan over it and chunky red shoes.
She turns to look at me as I walk in and I take a moment to study her face, which is dominated by large, slightly anxious green eyes with thick lashes. They’re pretty but somewhat obscured by the geek-chic horn-rimmed glasses she wears. She has a small, upturned nose with a smattering of freckles across the bridge and on her round cheeks. Nice skin, I note as my eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lips are full, lush and pouty, a surprisingly sexy contrast to the girl-next-door rest of her. Finally, I take in her chin, which is small and brings her face to a heart-shaped taper.
She’s a long way from the 30-something power player I’d expected. She’s more geek than glamour girl, more quirky than cool. She has her own style, for sure, but it’s a long way from the slender, tan and leggy look that dominates Los Angeles.
She’s … cute.
Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief. Not to sound arrogant, but I’m a pretty good looking guy, and I’ve swept women a lot more sophisticated than she is off their feet. Showing her a nice time, helping her impress her friends or her co-workers for an evening … no problem. This one is in the bag.
I lock eyes with her and give her my most charming smile.
Cassandra glides toward me with a smile of her own. “Archer, thank you so much for coming in. Annabelle, I’d like to introduce you to Archer Carleson, one of our Gentlemen Attendants. Archer, this is Annabelle Winter.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Annabelle,” I say, making a point of looking deeply into her eyes.
Annabelle stares at me. At first, I take her wide eyes and slightly parted lips to mean that she is pleased with what she sees, but then her pretty mouth falls into a pout and her forehead wrinkles in dismay.
She shakes her head slightly. “Oh, this won’t do,” she says. “This won’t do at all.”