Damn. He sizzled in that Tuxedo. Having to watch him shimmy in those tight jeans all day was challenging enough, but this was a Starsky I hadn’t seen before. Smooth and elegant, like fine whiskey. It wasn’t just the rental tag that was drawing looks. All the men wanted to be him, all the women wanted to be with him. Thank God I was the one who had been awarded that prize. Fuck. My pants were starting to feel uncomfortably full. Don’t think about it. Don’t think . . . . Just suck in my cheeks and take tiny steps.