The Love Laws (12 page)

“What
is?”

“That
the size of a man’s feet correlates with the size of his…equipment. Men
suffering from dwarfism have perfectly normal sized…reproductive parts.” How
did she get into these conversations? More importantly, how could she get out
of this one?

“How
do you know that exactly? You’ve dated a dwarf sporting a giant-sized schlong?”

Jamie
wrinkled her nose at him. “Gross. Who says schlong exactly?”

“I
do. Especially if it makes you smile like that. Schlong, schlong, schlong.”

Jamie
covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.”

He
crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a mock serious look. “Now, answer
the question. Are you into little guys?”

Jamie
gave a little shiver. He was using his cop voice on her. She’d forgotten that
he’d once been a proud member of the Vancouver Police Department. It was easy
to believe when he used that commanding tone. She wondered briefly if he’d give
orders in the bedroom too.

Despite
her better judgement she was tempted to tell him that she actually liked her
men big, brawny, and outrageous. Just like him. But that would just encourage
him. The very last thing she wanted to do. If she was smart she’d lie and tell
him she only dated guys under five feet tall, but she didn’t want to be
completely dishonest. It was better to keep him guessing.

“Not
telling. Now, why don’t you just pretend you’re looking for my sister tomorrow?
That way my friend won’t be suspicious and think I’ve set her up.”

“Good
plan. I won’t even acknowledge you. I’ll focus completely on Kelly.”

“Cathy.”

“Right.
How will I know which one to shower with my God-given charm?”

“Easy.”
Jamie said dully. “She’ll be the only other female in the store.”

“Business
is down?” He asked, genuine concern in his tone.

Jamie
shrugged. “Just the time of year,” she lied, not wanting his pity under any
circumstances. “So, you’ll be there?”

“Yup.
Can’t wait to check out your underwear.”

She
glared at him.

“I
mean your stock. Not your personal underwear. Unless you want to give me a
peak?” He said with a wicked grin.

Jamie
rubbed her temple in exasperation and closed her eyes. “You’re going to make me
regret this, aren’t you?”

 “You
worry too much. I’ll make your friend feel like a princess, I swear.”

He
held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal?”

Reluctantly,
Jamie allowed him to swallow her hand with his. The touch of his callused
fingers sliding against her own was like an electric shock. She pulled back
instantly and gave him a reproachful look.

“Deal?”
He prodded.

“Fine.
Deal.” She muttered, gingerly shaking the tips of his fingers like he had
leprosy.

Ignoring
her reluctance to touch him, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, placing
a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Great. And later, I’ll take you out and treat
you like a queen.”

Despite
the cheesy line, Jamie felt herself returning his huge smile, right before she
jerked her hand back and dodged around him, making a mad scramble for sweet
freedom.

Spending
ten minutes alone with him was more stimulation than she could handle. How was
she going to last a whole evening?

Chapter
Six

Love Law #3 -
Men are crazy competitive
.

Remember high
school? Remember the popular girl who sent all the guys into a hormonal frenzy?
(Yeah, I hated her too.) Well, she was desirable because of what she
represented, not because of who she was. Men want to out-do their friends.
Whether that means the best job, or the nicest car, or the loudest belch, they
are motivated by the possibility of destroying each other's egos. It sounds
positively barbaric because it is. This competitive streak is innate to them.
Pre-historically, the strongest male would be the most likely to mate and
survive. And they're still trying to prove to each other who has the biggest
club. How does this work for you? Well, for one thing, the man you're
interested in should be aware that other men desire you. This makes you
infinitely more attractive to them because nothing makes them feel more like a
stud than claiming victory over another man. Yes, this is awful. You are
totally being objectified in this scenario. A prize in their pissing contest.
But if you want to draw a guy's attention, be the object of desire for another
man. One who is a worthy opponent works best.

“What
is with you? Why do you keep looking at your watch?” Clay asked suspiciously.
“And why are you all vamped out?” He was sitting on the small Queen Anne love
seat in the change room observation area at Hidden Treasures. It was a large,
round space filled with mirrors, enough seating for a bridal party and one
large crystal chandelier that filled the space with warm, flattering light.

Next
to Clay sat Raoul, the mannequin, wearing only skin-tight black briefs. Clay
had tucked his breakfast banana into the front of Raoul’s underwear to fill him
out a bit. Every once in a while he would adjust the banana to a more pleasing
angle.

Jamie
stood leaning against the door jamb, watching Clay with annoyance and waiting
for Cathy to appear wearing her first outfit.

Jamie
was also looking at her watch and growing more irritated by the moment. Her
mood was not helped by the fact that it was 11:12 and Kevin was nowhere in
sight.

“There’s
nothing ‘with me.’ And I am not ‘vamped out.’ I just wanted to set a good
example for Cathy.” Jamie said impatiently.

In
truth, it had taken her an hour to put this outfit together. The plain, black silk
suit was simple but totally sexy, emphasizing her curves and showing a lot of
leg. The sky-high pumps and black silk stockings completed her provocative, yet
professional look without being too obvious. Or at least that’s what she
thought until Clay kindly pointed out that she looked like she was trying too
hard. Instantly, she wished she’d gone for a more subtle ensemble. Not that it mattered.
Kevin looked like he’d found something or someone better to do anyway. She
should have known not to expect him to keep his word.

Clay
gave her an evil look. “Why do you look like you just had a bikini wax with
carbolic acid then?”

Jamie
stomped over to the love seat and removed the banana from Raoul’s private area.
She pointed it at Clay’s handsome nose. “My bikini area is acid free, thank you
very much. Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and take Raoul back to the
show room. You don’t need a date for this.”

“Fine.”
Clay said, standing up with exaggerated dignity and straightening his Italian
silk tie. “But when I come back I expect you to be in a less ugly frame of mind.
Either that or you need to tell me what has your nipples in a twist. Okay?”

Jamie
sighed. “Just leave it, Clay. For once, just let it be.”

“Like
that’s going to happen,” Clay muttered. He sniffed indignantly, and picked
Raoul up from the loveseat. Most people would have just carried the mannequin
by the waist, but Clay deftly flipped him until they were entwined in a
vertical sixty-nine position. Only Clay’s teasing green eyes were visible over
the curve of Raoul’s bottom as he carried him out with the mannequin’s face
pressed to the front of his perfectly tailored, grey gabardine trousers.

Despite
her annoyance, Jamie chuckled and shook her head as she sat down in the spot just
vacated by Raoul.

“Cathy,”
she called towards the row of changing stalls. “Is everything alright?”

Cathy
didn’t answer so she called again. “Do you need a hand?”

She
heard the stall door creak open and then the distinctive sound of bare feet
slapping on hardwood floors.

Cathy
stepped into view and Jamie couldn’t help it - She gasped and then covered her
mouth to mask her shock.

“What?”
Cathy said, looking confused. “It looks okay, doesn’t it?”

Clay’s
formerly plain little sister was wearing a dress. A very simple wrap dress that
Jamie had designed when she was still in school. It was nothing special. But on
Cathy it simply worked miracles. The peacock blue and grey swirling pattern
flattered Cathy’s pale skin and hair while the cut emphasized her ample curves,
displaying her small waist and flaring hips. Her deep cleavage peaked pertly
out from the plunging neckline and made Jamie glad she’d somehow managed to
convince her friend to have a proper bra fitting. The improvement in her
posture and bearing was nothing short of amazing.

Cathy
no longer looked like a complete frump-a-dump. She would never grace the cover
of Vogue but she did look voluptuous, feminine and downright sexy. From the
neck down. The expression on her face, however, was another story. Worry lines
bracketed her mouth and her eyes had the hunted look of an awkward teenager
waiting to be bullied.

Jamie
desperately wanted to reassure her friend that she wasn’t that self-conscious girl
anymore. Cathy never had to worry about being invisible or the object of scorn
ever again. She was actually quite pretty if she could just lose that deer-in-the-headlights
expression.

Clay’s
friend, Kharlos, from one of Kitsilano’s finest salons had highlighted Cathy’s
hair and styled it into a modern, shoulder-length bob that drew attention to
her gorgeous cat-like eyes. Clay himself had insisted that she invest in some
contact lenses and had applied her makeup. Having worked in the theatre
department throughout college he was a master at creating a dramatic yet
natural look that emphasized Cathy’s positive features without making her look
like a drag queen.

All
she needed was some confidence and she could walk into any room and feel like
she owned the place. Unfortunately, all the makeup and hair products in the
world wouldn’t be worth much if she didn’t believe in herself. A lifetime of
insecurity would sabotage her transformation if she couldn’t get comfortable
with her new look. She would revert to her old schlumpy ways in ten seconds
flat if they couldn’t convince her it was worth it to make the effort.

“Oh
my God. Cat!” Clay cried out from the entryway. “You look so freaking hot. We
have the best genes ever!” He stepped into the display area and hugged his
sister fiercely for a moment before spinning her around until she was facing
the wall of antique mirrors.

Cathy
stared at her reflection for a long moment, running her hands down her body and
shaking her head in disbelief. The wary look was starting to fade from her
face, but she wasn’t smiling either.

“Well,
what do you think?” Jamie asked eagerly from the love seat.

“I
don’t believe it.” Cathy whispered, looking into her own eyes as if reassuring
herself that it was really her own reflection looking back at her. “I actually
look presentable.”

Clay’s
eye bugged out of his head in shock. “Presentable? You think you look
presentable?” That’s like saying that my ass is presentable when we all know
it’s so much more.”

“Clay.”
Jamie said, giving him a warning look. “Give her a chance. She’s not used to
this version of herself. It may take a second to adjust.”

Clay
rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. But I need more than that. We performed a miracle of
biblical proportions here. Stacey and Clinton couldn’t have done better and all
she can give us in ‘presentable?’ How about dazzling? Or striking? Or I’ll even
accept adorable. But presentable? No fucking way.”

Cathy
turned from the mirror and gave her brother a puzzled look. “Clay? What’s
wrong? Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

Clay
crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. When he finally spoke, his voice
actually broke. “I’ve watched you scurrying around with that lame-ass
inferiority complex your whole life. You’ve been convinced you were plain since
we were kids despite the many, many times that I assured you otherwise. Now,
after years of begging you to make an effort with your appearance I finally see
that I was right all along.” He gently took her by the shoulders and turned her
to face the mirror again.

“You’re
pretty, Cat. Really pretty. And it doesn’t matter because you’re so damn
determined to stay in your comfortable, boring rut that you’re willing to
ignore what’s right in front of you. I thought this makeover would make a
difference, but I was wrong. You’re just too scared. Too unwilling to try. Too
damn lazy. What a monumental waste.” With that he let go of her and walked back
to stand beside Jamie, shaking his head in disappointment.

Cathy
gaped, looking completely shell-shocked at her brother`s unexpectedly heated
words.

Jamie
had a hard time resisting her impulse to step in and comfort her but Clay had a
point and maybe Cathy needed to hear and accept what he was telling her. So,
she sat still and waited, inwardly praying that Cathy wouldn’t just run back to
the change room and adorn herself in the ugly brown sweat suit she`d been
wearing when she arrived earlier that morning.