The second the private room door swung open, all the laughter died stone-cold.
Twenty-something pairs of eyes swiveled as one and locked right onto me.
First they noticed my shoulders, they were barely shorter than the top of the door frame. Then their gaze dropped to my waist, the deep-V velvet dress hugging every curve so sharp it looked like it had been carved with a knife. Last was my face: a high, defined brow bone, a sharp, chiseled jawline, and that icy, unapproachable aura honed on the runway, the kind that makes cameras practically fight to get a shot of you.
The guy sitting closest to the door froze for a solid few seconds before jumping to his feet. "Hey gorgeous, who are you looking for?" he asked.
Another guy scrambled to pull out a chair right away. "Did you walk into the
