“Tell me about it.” Ralph slapped his hand over his forehead. “I’ve even had to carry you home a few times.”

Jayne giggled.

“And then…” Megan said, as the model disappeared behind the curtain. “For the girls who maybe, you know, have a partner who isn’t particularly tall or strong for carrying her home.” She glanced at Ralph. She’d show him, she too could ad-lib the way they did. “And don’t want to be stumbling, this is how to do glamorous shoes and stay grounded.”

Ralph pursed his lips and nodded. His gaze settled on Megan, but it wasn’t hostile, it was full of fun, up for banter—he was saying with that look that he approved of her style of presenting. It matched his.

A flush of achievement went through Megan. For a moment she forgot that the camera was there and enjoyed seeing the next model work the runway. Dressed in a neat white dress with a collection of long beaded necklaces, she showcased the Winter Grecian sandals perfectly. Her long, tanned legs couldn’t be more ideal for the style.

Thank heavens for Brendon, Megan thought. He was backstage, working his magic and coming up trumps.

“Well I do like those straps.” Ralph leant forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. “They’re very…”

“Sexy,” Megan said then laughed. “That’s the idea, to feel and look like you’re the star of the show, ready for the red-carpet, the catwalk.”

Ralph tore his attention from Megan and looked at the model. “Yes, I can actually see what you mean, what you’re going for, they’re stunning.” His serious expression suddenly lifted and he turned to his wife. “I think I know what I’m getting you for Christmas, my dear.”

“What’s that?” Jayne shrugged, almost coyly.

“Sexy Winter heels.” Ralph chuckled and nodded. “It’s a done deal.”

Chapter Eight

“Oh, just throw me in a tree and leave me to the owls. You couldn’t have been any more fabulous if you’d been Cleopatra lounging in goat’s milk.”

Megan grinned at Brendon. She was shaking now. As though the end of her segment had suddenly encouraged her adrenal gland to release a glut of hormones to send her skitty. She’d done it—she’d actually gone on camera and spoken to the nation about Winter Shoes. What’s more, she’d kept her cool, said everything that had needed to be said and given Ralph Wainwright as good as he’d given.

She’d even enjoyed it. Megan would never have thought that being on the other side of the camera would be her thing, but actually, she’d had a blast.

“You were so natural, just made for this,” Brendon said, clasping her hands in his. “I’m so proud, you aced it. I knew you would.”

“Thanks.” Megan grinned.

“And great products too.”