She pouted and blew a bit of hair out of her eyes, leaning forward over the alteration counter.

“Ready to brace me?”

She crossed her wrists, palms up, and braced her elbows on the canvas-covered surface. I crossed mine, palms down, took her hands, and braced my elbows on either side of her arms, bent my knees and got ready to pull.

“Ready.”

Behind her, the blonde seamstress started pulling at the corset. Already hooked in front, now we were lacing it as tight as we could, then marking the laces with pencil.

“You need to blow out air, hon,” the costume designer mumbled around two huge safety-pins between her lips.

I swallowed, trying not to focus on the pink blush that matched the full lips and dark red hair. Not to mention the rapidly enhanced bustline. I shoved my left foot against the counter leg so she didn’t fly back.

“You’re almost there, then we can unhook you,” I told her, our knuckles going white.

She grinned, winking flirtatiously at me. I blushed and grinned back, “Tease.”