My breasts were practically spilling out of the top of my dress, pushed up by my underwear beneath to form two alluring round peaks that may well have kept Rick happy all night but left nothing to the imagination. "Why?" Rick said, peering his head around the corner of the room and moving a toothbrush around his mouth. "I think you look sexy, baby." I rolled my eyes. "Because, Rick, of these," I replied, pointing two fingers at my heaving cleavage. "Can you imagine the headlines if I go out like this? 'Rick gets the Grammy – and two Golden Globes.'" "That's funny," he snorted, heading back into the bathroom. I let out a sigh and grabbed my smartphone. I shot off the text to Anita, my stylist, asking if my beautiful but slightly ill-fitting Marchesa dress could be altered. As I hit 'Send', I smiled to myself. Even now, just over 6 months into our relationship, I still couldn't believe this was happening – that this was my world. I was dating a rock star.
