AN: I don't own 'em...Disney and Meg Cabot do. I'm just playing and I promise to be careful and put them back.
The Sexiest Man in Genovia
chapter2
"May I interrupt your tea for a moment?" Joseph asked, crossing the room to a cabinet on the far side.
"Certainly, you may" Miss Parker answered, her eyes lighting up.
All around the table, tea was getting cold- she wasn't alone in staring at the queen's Head of Security. Joseph Coraza was wearing what he usually wore- snug fitting black work pants, black belt around his trim waist, black shoes, but he'd shed his shirt and tie in favor of a tight black t-shirt that must have shrunk in the wash.
She added hopefully, "Might we be of help, Mr. Joseph?"
"Thank you, but I only need to get a case of water for the cars," he answered, giving the group a smile that brought their collective heart rate up by one hundred and twenty points. The females' blood pressures shot into the red zone when Joseph hauled a heavy case of water from an upper shelf, his abs forming deep ridges in the area above his belt.
Holding the bottles before him, he turned to face the ladies. Two of the younger girls, later swore they heard fabric give way where his pecs and biceps strained at the thin material. A tiny gold earring winked in the fluorescent light.
"I hope you will enjoy your tea," he said, giving them a small bow before making his way back to the door.
The rear view of wide shoulders tapering to a tight, trim butt was just as pleasant as the front, if not more so. Gerta gripped the edge of the table and hung on; Miss Parker fanned herself with her ragged copy of the Genovian Inquirer. The younger girls simply swooned.
"And a pleasant day to you all," he added as he left the room, unaware of the cardiac commotion he was causing.
When everyone's blood pressure had fallen from the stroke zone, Miss Parker turned to Gerta and set her jaw.
"Now that that's settled, we need to make our plan!"
Cates, Head Butler and husband of Gerta, watched as a young maid slipped around the corner, camera in hand in hopes of catching a candid picture of Joseph Coraza, and shook his head. If Joseph ever found out…
He had told his wife there would be hell to pay if the staff were caught sneaking pictures. Furthermore, just how did they intend to keep Joseph- or the queen- from finding out about their entering him in the contest? Genovia was a small country, and Pyrus was an even smaller city, so word traveled far and fast.
She'd only shrugged, saying neither was known for keeping up with such matters, and then lit into a long-winded harangue about Golden Pear Hotel floosies and the meat man. He didn't ask for clarification on either.
He saw Olivia ease open a door to an anteroom, then close it in disappointment.
Apparently, the housekeeping and kitchen staff had been charged by his wife and Miss Parker with gathering shots of Joseph for the contest. At all hours of the day, in every area of the palace, a domestic was at the ready, camera in hand, waiting for the right opportunity.
Down deep in his dignified soul, Cates wished the women every success. Last night, at the Flame and Oak Pub, hadn't Otis O'Dell, the Head Doorman of the Golden Pear Hotel, bragged to him, and everyone within earshot, that the hotel was going to win the contest? Cates sniffed. O'Dell acted far above himself. A Head Doorman was not nearly in the same echelon of importance as Head Butler to a Royal Family. Yet, the man insisted on behaving as if it were. Why, O'Dell had even offered to make a bet on who won!
It was a bet Cates did not intend to lose. His chin came up even further.
His footsteps noiseless on the polished wood floor, Cates unhurriedly walked to the maid's side and jerked his head toward the doors at the end of the hall.
"He's out back, in the rear courtyard exercising with his men- stripped down to his pants and undershirt." Olivia grinned and scurried away, eager to catch the sight for posterity…and the honor of the palace.
The crowd around the large worktable settled down and Miss Parker and Gerta took their places of honor and opened the Entertainment section of the Genovian Inquirer, spreading it out on the table.
"How does it look for us, girls?" Miss Parker asked, cutting to the chase. Her eyes skimmed over the male contestants' pictures. Each nominee was given half a page with a list of each quality they were to be judged on. Beside each one, there were one or two pictures of the man to best illustrate that quality.
"Our rivals have been doing their homework, it seems," Gerta said, casting a discerning eye over the printed display of manliness. "We'd best take it one by one."
"Right. Let's see…Hobbies."
"Here! What's that doctor holding?" Priscilla asked, leaning over Olivia's shoulder to see better.
"Says…it's his collection of gallstones," Olivia read. One of the younger girls choked on her tea. "Can't say I'd want to take that up- or him!"
"The soccer coach has his collection of trophies," the scullery maid pointed out.
"Showing off- most unbecoming," Gerta declared, her finger moving quickly to Joseph. "That's more like it."
Dressed in black, legs spread and knees bent ever so slightly, Joseph Coraza cradled a pistol in with both hands, the muzzle pointed at a target somewhere out of the picture.
Priscilla blushed. "I had Hans take a picture of him at the Police firing range."
"What about Physical Condition?" the upstairs maid asked, trying to squeeze in between the kitchen assistant and Olivia. "That tennis pro isn't too bad looking."
"He knows it too," Miss Parker stated. "See how he's wearing that shirt that's too small for him and those itty bitty pants? And the soccer coach- getting a potbelly and trying to cover it up with that ball. Humph." She sniffed in disgust.
"Our Mr. Joseph doesn't have a potbelly," the third floor maid pointed out.
"No, he doesn't," Gerta agreed. "But, that fireman's going to be some real competition!"
Everyone leaned closer to get a look. Muscles bulging, but not grotesquely so, the sandy-haired public servant leaned against a shiny red fire engine, arms crossed, wearing nothing but his fire-proof overalls with one suspender hanging at his side. The group was quiet for a long moment, savoring the image.
"Hope that hook doesn't come undone!" quipped Olivia.
"How about the Olympic swimmer from the University?" Priscilla wanted to know. "My cousin's best friend says he's a real looker.
Clad in a miniscule swimsuit, the Olympian stood at the end of the low dive.
"Ohhh! That's got to be uncomfortable!" the kitchen assistant squealed. "If I wore something like that, I'd be yanking it down over my behind all day. How can he walk in that?"
"More to the point, how can he sit?" Olivia retorted.
Priscilla wrinkled her nose. "A girl likes some things left to the imagination."
"Not much to wonder about there," Olivia agreed.
"Look- he's got no hair!" the kitchen assistant cried.
"Of course, not," the third floor maid said authoritatively. "Shaving off his hair makes him weigh less and so he can go faster."
The kitchen assistant stared at the older girl, not quite believing what she'd heard. Still, there was no denying that the young man was as bald all over like an egg - unless…
"Do you think he shaves down there, too?" she whispered.
"Ahem!" Miss Parker shot the girl a quelling glance, and then offhandedly leaned closer to inspect the picture again. The waistband of the swimmer's Speedo was nowhere near his waist and nary a hair was to be seen. "Appears so," she said matter-of-factly, sitting back up.
"Mr. Joseph still has his goatee- he hasn't shaved that," the upstairs maid noted.
"Doesn't show in the picture," Gerta observed dryly, nodding to the tight shot of Her Majesty's Head of Security's butt. The maid dissolved into giggles.
"Still," Miss Parker added, cocking her head to the side, "it does show off some nice assets."
Everyone looked from one to another then burst out laughing.
"Well, the other picture shows off everything else. That's an excellent picture, Olivia," Miss Parker continued, pointing. Joseph, caught after a run with his men, stood with hands on his hips, a sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging like a second skin to the curves and hollows of his arms, chest, and abdomen. Around him, the younger agents were bent double, hands on their knees, or sprawled on the ground.
"Thank you, ma'am," Olivia said, pleased.
"I was a bit worried about the 'charm' category," Gerta said. That's a thing that's hard to put in words or pictures. Why, just look at that tennis pro stretched out on a pile of tennis balls!"
"That's got to be awfully bumpy," Priscilla said.
Miss Parker nodded, agreeing with Gerta. "True, but I think this works very well."
As if unaware to the world, Joseph held his queen's hand to his lips.
In unison, the females sighed.
"The last category is 'sense of humor', and can someone tell what that is on the doctor's head?" Miss Parker demanded.
"That looks like a glove what's been stretched over his head and nose… and he blew air into it," the kitchen assistant helpfully explained.
"For the love of…" Gerta shook her head. "What sort of doctor is he?"
"Psy-chiatrist, it says here," Miss Parker answered. "Figures."
"And Mr. Joseph?"
Miss Parker slid the page over closer for Gerta to get a better look.
Wearing a black turtleneck and very dark glasses, Joseph stood, hands on his hips, black leather jacket open to reveal a gun in a holster at his waist, looking out over a crowd- stern and unsmiling.
"I couldn't get one of him smiling," Lydia, the kitchen maid explained. "I even told Mel I'd go out with him if he could get a picture of Mr. Joseph when he wasn't looking like he was going to shoot someone…but Mel said Mr. Joseph always looked like that- even when he was happy."
There was a general murmur of commiseration around the table.
"Are you going out with Mel even though he didn't get the picture?" the upstairs maid asked, filled with curiosity. Mel was cute.
"Well, I don't see how I can," Lydia answered dejectedly, heaving a sigh. "I was really hoping to, though."
"Why," Gerta suggested patiently, "don't you tell him that since he did his best, you'll go out with him?"
"I could do that, couldn't I?" Lydia said, brightening at the thought.
"Young girls today!" Miss Parker rolled her eyes. "Voting starts tomorrow, ladies. Let's get the vote out!"