On April's command, one of the waiting interns opened the doors and a line of men wearing just white underwear flowed into the room.
Though I'd seen men in their underwear before, I couldn't keep from blushing at all the bared flesh before me. And bulges. So. Many. Bulges.
Just keep repeating to yourself they're all gay, I told myself. So you don't get any ideas to procreate.
It was hard, though, with so much temptation in front of me. This type of job definitely was not for me. And if I was having trouble focusing, Gabe definitely shouldn’t be here.
Chiseled jaws, chiseled thighs, chiseled abs everywhere. Perfect, white smiles. Almost too perfect.
April smiled at the first round of men that lined the platform. "Thank you all for coming. The wonderful Mrs. Christine Finnerman couldn't be here today, so her right hand assistant, Victoria, will be sitting in her place helping us judge. You all will be judged by certain criteria that Christine is looking for right now. If you’re a good fit, you'll be called back in. If you don't hear back from us . . . well, you can always try again next time. Christine is always changing what she’s looking for, so don’t get discouraged if you’re not chosen.” April looked around at all the young, half-naked men. "Any questions?"
Most of the them shook their heads.
April smiled wider. "Alright, let's begin. First man up! Please state your name before walking down the runway."
"Aubrey."
Aubrey was a skinny blonde guy, with high cheekbones, blue eyes, and an average package . . . though we weren't supposed to be judging bulge sizes. Besides that, he certainly fit the bill, but I wasn't too impressed by him.
Aubrey walked down the platform onto the runway with an awkward gait, his expression stoic and lifeless. He posed for a moment and then walked toward the judges, turned, and then made his way back onto the platform.
April scribbled something on her notebook and I wondered if I should be doing the same.
"He's too skinny," Gabe whispered. "Even by industry standards."
"Well?" April pressed me. "We don't have all day, Vicky. You gotta be quick."
"I wasn't impressed," I admitted finally, feeling sick to my stomach.
April nodded and then turned to beam happily at the young man. "Thank you for coming, Aubrey. You'll hear back from us if you’re selected.” I watched her cross the young man's name off the list as he walked off.
"Don't worry about it, honey," Gabe whispered to me, seeing the trepidation on my face. "That guy will find work with one designer or the other. And stop worrying about judging these dudes. They got into modeling to be judged on their looks and bodies, and if they can’t handle it, they don’t need to be in this business."
Gabe's words did little to ease me of my anxiety as the next guy stepped up.
"Jake."
Jake was tall and auburn-haired with a masculine jawline and a toned body. I had to admit that I liked what I saw.
He walked down the walkway with a smile, winking at the judge table before walking back. Even his butt was cute.
"He's a keeper," Gabe whispered immediately.
In thought, April chewed her pen for a second and turned to me. "What do you think?"
"I'm with Gabe, but are we supposed to sit here and discuss them all or can we just scribble down our thoughts and move this along?”
April stared at me for a moment before shaking her head. “Just trying to get you used to it all, honey.” She turned her head to Jake. “Thank you, Jake.” She smiled at the handsome man. "Next!"
I sat through the next wave of models, trying to be the best judge I could be. I hated every time I had to be truthful and vote against a candidate, but over time my anxiety waned just a bit. I realized that I had a long way to go before I could even aspire to be in a position similar to Christine.
An hour later, and we’d dwindled the room down to just a dozen or so remaining. The eye candy was nice and all, but I’d had enough. I was ready to go.
After another contestant left, I took a sip of the bottled water I had in front of me and lowered my head to check my notes while the next guy stepped up and announced his name.
"Tyler."
My head snapped up fast at the deep, familiar baritone. I knew that voice. But it can’t be, can it?
What in the hell?
There, standing on the platform like he owned it and making the other men around him look like little boys, was Tyler in all of his masculine glory, a cocky grin on his face and that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
How the hell did I miss him?
I froze, staring at Tyler, who was looking at me with that grin that I’d found so hard to resist. My whole body was trembling.
April seemed to still have her wits about her. “What are you doing here, Mr. Locklin?" she demanded.