So I hired an "exotic dancer" for a baby shower. Just a little fun for us girls, okay? But when a silver Hummer skates up the driveway and this big, long-haired fireman stomps out, it's my body that starts heating up.

It's an eventful night. I try to drown him (accidentally), kiss him (deliberately), and have to cut him out of his leather thong (long story).

When my favorite male model gets run over by a Pamplona bull, I find myself in need of a stunning bit of man-candy to come with me to Nice, France, to model my designs.

He's not crazy about the idea, because there's someone in Nice he'd like to avoid. Let's just say I talk him into it.

But when he's on stage, will he remember he's a model, not a stripper, or will he start tossing my designs to a bunch of screaming women?