“I’m not a stalker.” I thought getting that out first thing was important to establishing innocence just in case it went to court, but the group of guys standing around me all cocked their heads to the side like confused puppies.

They weren’t puppies.

Well, most weren’t.

“Now please take this in the way it was intended. You’re a wonderful model, and I think this is the perfect opportunity to use your skills.” My boss’s overly professional smile as he sat perfectly straight in his chair behind his desk only made me more suspicious.

What had he done?

What skills?

Was his wonderful new opportunity figuring out how to hide Eli’s body because he’d killed him?

Preston was never nervous, so the whole thing was confusing. He was the ultimate cool cucumber because he’d been baptized by fire working with so many drama queens. Not me, of course, I was sweet and calm.

It was the rest of them that were nuts.

Leashes & Lace was a magnet that drew in more interesting people. Something about modeling male lingerie and fetish gear like puppy play tails pulled out people’s more passionate side. At least, that was how Preston had described it the last time a prospective new employee had asked him to describe us.

“I just don’t want you to take this the wrong way.” Preston’s polite insanity had Roman, one of the main photographers and Eli’s partner, snorting from where he was leaning against the far wall behind Preston’s desk.