Bad Taste (Part II) // Colby Brock

202 - Tara

"Good evening, everybody!" Typical, I thought. "I hope you all made your way here safely and you are not already too drunk to comprehend the words coming out of my mouth." He paused, allowing a few cheers to come from the middle-aged women holding empty wine glasses up in the air. "There are always a few, eh, guys?" A chorus of laughter erupted around us, but we weren't laughing.

He continued once the crowd had calmed. "Tonight, we are here to enjoy the money our wonderful businesses generate, and to recognise the weird, practical and dramatic fashion alike that we have all wished to forget at least once in our careers. I am not an idiot, I know there are plenty of you in the audience who are here for the booze and the beautiful ladies, but I can assure you that you have a chance at finding so much more if you draw your eyes to their clothes rather than their," he paused, "I don't think I need to finish that sentence."

More laughter came from around us, but that wasn't what we were listening to. A scoff—one so slight we shouldn't have heard it—came from backstage shortly followed by a harsh, "Sh," captured all of our attention. Why? Because we'd heard that scoff plenty of times before.

"Speaking about beautiful ladies brings me onto the reason I am standing up here—it is not just to entertain you lovely people! I am here to introduce to you one of the families who have worked to put this whole night together, and who have graced our stores and lives with some of the most professional clothing I have ever seen. I do not believe I have to introduce them, but I have been told that I must."

"Thank god," I muttered, glancing at Jake. He gave me a reassuring smile as his fingers slid between mine, reminding me that this would be over soon.

"I will now pass onto... the Woods!"

The man stepped to the side of the microphone, but no one was looking at him. The first to step onto the stage was a woman who'd bred two of the most beautiful women I'd ever met. She was dressed in a long, pale blue dress that clung to her hips and reached her ankles, only hinting at the overly-sized stilettos beneath. She held onto her husband's arm—most likely because she couldn't walk without him—and drifted toward the middle of the stage where the microphone was, though she didn't stand behind it.

Mr Woods was dressed in a pale grey suit that looked like it'd been bought by a millionaire: everything was pristine, from the cleanliness to the press. He stood tall, smart and professional. I realised for the first time how well both of them fit into this scene, which got me thinking about Angela and Rebecca.

The clapping continued as the curtains shifted for a second time, only it was something blinding that walked out. Pure white. I had no doubt who it would be when I saw the white, but it still took me completely off guard. Angela walked across the stage in a short white dress with matching heels and perfect short blonde curls. Her eyes drifted over the crowd to find Aryia, though she didn't get to stare at him for long as the security guard following her subtly stopped her behind the microphone.

With her entrance, there was only one left.

The crowd weren't as enthused, but they still continued to clap as the curtain shifted for the final time. I hadn't expected my jaw to drop—yet again, I hadn't expected a woman in bright red to come flying onto the stage.

Rebecca had definitely made the right decision in the clothing department. She wore a long blood red dress with two huge slits on either side of the skirt showing off all of her legs. A thin, silver chain lay around her waist like a belt, glistening under the lights above her. Her heels were the same crimson.

She stormed across that stage like she fucking owned it, and honestly, I didn't doubt for one second that she did. She looked like money.

What was better than seeing her up there in her element, however, was glancing at Colby to see his undeniable stare right at her face. He was clearly amazed; clearly lost in her looks; in his love for her.