There could be no faster way to my heart than a closetful of new Lanz nightgowns.
Christian was looking for the fastest way to a location significantly south of my heart. But he was getting warmer. And so was I.
I had gleefully spent the last thirty minutes sashaying, pirouetting, and mincing about in my new finery.
If anything was going to melt my imaginary chastity belt, trust me, he was getting close with this selection.
He sat like a Pasha, laughing, as I appeared from behind the gargantuan wardrobe in each new garment.
Ok, close your eyes and think… Sound of Music. I'm Julie Andrews and Captain Von Trapp has only just realized that I am way more than a nun. And a nanny. And general free labor on loan from a convent. It's before the cocktail party scene but after I sat on the pinecone at dinner...
I emerged in a voluminous white nightgown dotted with rosebuds, and trimmed with the requisite cotton trim. I threw my arms out and improvised lyrics with gusto.
The hills are alive with the sound of nightgowns. More nightgowns than I've ever seen before…my heart will be blessed with the sound of nightgowns…until there's nightgowns no more.
Admitted weak finish, but I sat down to take a breath. Christian's eyes danced with joy.
I love to make you happy. I want to make you happy. If only you'd allow me to show you other ways to feel happiness you've never known.
Oh sweet Lord. He was still at it. This buffet of flannel confections had blurred the lines. He could see my joy and had mistaken it for a flashing "Open For Business" sign.
Of course he was confused. Here I was making up my own lyrics to Rodgers and Hammerstein songs. That must have felt like a dream come true for him.
I had to get his mind off this familiar and fearsome track.
I know that listening and learning must have played a huge part in making you the success that you are today. I tried to strike a very non-alluring pose.
Christian still had the glazed and excited look of Anderson Cooper in a Balinese boys-only youth hostel.
How to break through the sexual tension? How to ignite something else, anything else, in him?
I have an idea for a business. A product unlike anything the world has ever seen. I made this bold statement holding the skirt of my Lanz in one hand like an evening gown train.
Christian was an entrepreneur at his core. His face hardened (and let's pray that's the only thing that was) and I knew that I had his attention.
I continue to do a select amount of venture capital work. Go on. He crossed his legs and took out a small ostrich notepad and gold pen.
In the interest of keeping the energy light, non-sexual and entertaining, I casually moved though my usual "I'm-At-A-Wedding-And-Have-To Dance" routine of "running man" followed by a brief sequence of "milk the cow" and "traffic stop."
Stop dancing. He commanded in an irritated tone.
Is this product a Segway "the world has never seen this" sort of a thing…because I will tell you in no uncertain terms that every V/C guy in America is still smarting from that glorified hobbyhorse. Dean Kamen can no more show his face at the Metropolitan Club, than fly to the moon…
He was not happy. He got up petulantly and came towards me.
You're stalling Mrs. Steele. You've been stalling for days now. How dumb do you think I am?
He surprised me with his strength as he used the yoke of my Lanz to life me off my feet.
You don't have an idea. You have nothing. You are mine and the contract says so. He hissed unpleasantly in my ear.
I felt my airway constricting as the Austrian needlework dug into my neck.
But I do…I do have an idea…for women…like me…I sputtered.
His perfect lips came close to my ear and I recalled a few scenes from Silence of the Lambs. Was he going to bite my face and wear me like a Lady Helene Pore-Tightening Face Masque?
Tell me now! He commanded.
The Lady Cork. I sputtered.
The Lady Cork. I was spent. I bowed my head and prepared to be mauled like a foot long Italian by Jared after a walk around the block.
He put me down.
Go on. He folded his arms.
The name intrigues me.
I stood before him like a contestant on Shark Tank. This was my big chance.
The Lady Cork. Tagline: "It Isn't About What It Keeps In. It's About What it Keeps Out."
He raised an eyebrow.
Available in three sizes. I finished as I collapsed on the floor.