Page 3 of Rejection Overruled

My curves were more defined and my skin smooth and firm. I loved every inch of my body and never wished to change anything. I felt every bit a woman and had no doubt I was sexy. I ate properly, did my yoga and I was good to go. No need for fancy diets or strenuous exercise routines.

It took me a long time to be comfortable in my own skin, to the point where I loved my figure. After trying many diets and pills, I decided that enough was enough and if any man didn’t want me the way I was, to hell with him.

This morning called for three inch heels, bringing my height up to five nine. My skirt, just an inch below my knee, showed off my legs. I liked my legs, they were shapely and looked great in stilettos.

The arbitration was scheduled for ten in a conference room near the courthouse. When I arrived at nine thirty, Sophia was waiting alone in the room.

Near the door was a small table with coffee and tea. The table in the center of the conference room could hold a dozen people. The room was small but it would serve its purpose. I strolled in and placed my briefcase on the table. Sophia seemed ready to record the meeting.

“You’re here already?” I asked putting in the combination to open my briefcase.

“I knew you would want to come early to check out the competition,” she grinned.

Laughing lightheartedly, I replied, “You know me too well.”

“Are you going somewhere afterwards – a date maybe?”

“No why?”

“You look very chic as though you’re trying to impress someone.”

I sneered at her. “Don’t I always look chic?”

“You took extra care today,” Sophia pointed out.

Ignoring her last remark, I opened my briefcase and extracted the case file. I had fifteen minutes to revise the documents. My client promised she’d be early so we could go them over, but it seemed that plan was shot. I shut the file and walked to the table with the coffee. Sophia followed.

“What’s eating you?” she queried.

“Is it that obvious?”

She nodded. “You look wound up.”

“I am wound up. I broke up with John last night.”

Sophia scrunched her face. “Why?”

“I haven’t had an orgasm in months,” I lamented.

“No way!”

“Yes way. He spends five minutes and he’s done. I want a man with stamina. I want something more… you know,” I grinned.

“He’s not so well endowed, is he?”

“He’s okay… not big. Size isn’t the issue, but he doesn’t know how to use it to his advantage.”

Sophia laughed. “You liar, you want someone to fill you up and make you scream.”

“Ha-ha, I’m a bitch for wanting that, right?”

“All I have to say is, poor John. How did you stay for so long? I mean, he was never your type.”

My mind went back to almost a year ago when I met John. He was my client, divorcing his wife of twenty years. I had been divorced a few months from my husband of five years. We were both lonely and ended up sleeping together.

The divorce from Kevin was nasty. He cheated on me with a skinny little thing, driving home the fact that he didn’t find me attractive any more. He married me knowing I was never going lose the weight to please him. That didn’t stop him from trying to make me feel bad about myself. The icing on the cake was his having a mistress, perhaps hoping I would shrink myself to make me into something he could show off to his colleagues.

No sir, I wasn’t the kind of woman who could be emotionally blackmailed into changing myself to please a man. He got the hint way too late. The night I asked for a divorce he begged me to forgive him. When I refused to let him stay in my life, he got nasty, taking me to court and telling the judge that he was emotionally deprived of an enjoyable sex life. What the hell did that mean anyway?

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