Page 9 of Earl

But damn if he wasn’t already eager to speak to her again. And damn if he wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.

“Get a grip, why don’t you?” He muttered as he pushed himself away from the desk and rose. It might be the fact that he was starved for companion, female companion that was making him feel this eager, for want of a better word.

After Diana, he had been reticent, unwilling to even take a woman to his bed. It had taken several months for him to shake off the malady plaguing him and get on with his life.

She had tried contacting him and had persisted until he had his lawyer contact her and threatened a restraining order if she continued to plague him with her phone calls. But he was over her and told himself that he was not going to willingly trust another woman again.

Walking over to the cabinet, he contemplated having a drink before going to bed and decided against it. He had a series of early morning meetings and needed a clear head.

Turning away from the cabinet, he went back to his desk, his eyes straying to the laptop and could not help the grin splitting his face. Hell, he did not care how it sounded, but he was looking forward to talking to her again.

*****

Cathy stared at herself in the mirror critically the next morning. She had spent the night mulling over the conversation and trying to picture his face. Now standing in front of the full-length mirror she took the pins from her thick dark brown hair and combed her fingers through the strands.

For a hell of a long time, she had been insecure about her ‘bigness’. Especially being brought up in the group home and discovering that she had been unwanted by both parents, it had caused her to become bitter and self-conscious.

Children had picked on her, until she learned to lash out with her fists. Because of her height and size, she had started to earn respect. Her hair and skin had always been her best assets then, but she had never thought about it until Justin pointed it out to her.

They had been about thirteen when he admitted that he was in love with her. She had stared at him in comical dismay. “Are you out of your frigging mind?” She had picked up the swear words and used them frequently.

“You are beautiful,” he had told her dreamily.

“And you are a fruitcake.” She had hurt him with that name but had not apologized. She knew he was trying to deny his sexual preference, because admitting you were gay in an environment like that was taboo.

Shaking her head, she passed a hand over her flat stomach and itemized her features. Her eyes were an unusual shade of brown and her complexion was flawless. She was voluptuous and after wearing hand me downs that had been ill fitting, she had decided earlier on that she was going to design clothing for plus-sized women.

Now her outfits were designed to tantalize and mold the curves. She was risqué in her design and had creative freedom to do whatever she wanted.

She used flashy and bold colors and instead of covering up the flesh, she dared to highlight them. Her collection was called ‘Curvaceously Lovely’ and had been featured in several magazines.

But since her very few relationships had ended in disaster, she had found herself asking questions. Was she attractive enough? Her self-confidence, one she had carefully honed since the debacle with her mother, had taken a beating.

Biting down on her full bottom lip, she took another look before turning away and reaching for a red and blue cotton sheath and pulled it over her head.

The material was soft and malleable, settling on her curves like a lover’s hand. Twisting her hair into a braid that hung over her left breast, she shoved her feet into snakelike sandals and grabbed her pocketbook. She was meeting Justin at ‘Tremors’ for lunch.

*****

“So, are we going to talk about it now or wait until dessert?”

“Talk about what?” Cathy reached for the fruit bowl and picked up a slice of mango. It was almost the end of summer, and one could already see the leaves changing colors.

They were seated under a canopy outside and far away from the other diners to provide privacy. Both were famous enough to give them access to the trendy restaurant and coveted spot.

Other than the incisive and curious stares from the diners making their way inside, they were left alone.

She grinned at the dirty look he gave her as he took a sip of his lemon water.

“I met someone. His name is Earl, and he sounds decent enough.”

Justin wrinkled his straight nose. “Earl? I am not certain how I feel about the name.”

“That’s your problem. I happen to like him.”

Justin gave her a level look as he picked up his olive. “Hmm.”

“What?”

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