Page 68 of Curvy Girl Summer

“Just one shot?” he asked, not flinching.

“That’s all it’ll take,” she flirted.

“Coming right up.” He pointed at me. “To be continued.”

When he walked off to get the ingredients, the woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and eyed me.

“You come here a lot,” she stated.

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t feel an obligation to respond. Slowly, I nodded, unsure of why she was even talking to me.

“I’ve seen you around,” she continued. “You know the bartender. Are you his cousin or something? A friend?”

“Yeah,” I replied, glancing down to see Ahmad bend over to put the whipped cream back into the refrigerator. “I mean, I met him here.”

“Do you know anything about his situation?” She pointed to her hand and wiggled her ring finger.

I could feel the perplexed expression on my face. “Other than the fact that he is wearing a wedding band?”

She looked around guiltily. “Never mind,” she snapped.

“Here’s your shot,” Ahmad announced, sliding the small glass over to her.

She grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled it back. Leaning over, she wrapped her crimson-slathered lips around the rim of the glass, securing it before she lifted her head and downed the drink with no hands. She set the glass back on the bar and then licked her lips.

There were about five people actively watching in awe. But based on the way she was eyeing Ahmad, it was clear she was doing it for his benefit. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t paying attention. He had already moved on to take someone else’s order.

A frustrated grunt escaped her, and she stamped her foot. Catching my eye in the mirror, she turned to me. “How do you get him to pay attention to you?”

I lifted my shoulders. “We just talk.”

“I wish it was that easy for me!” She started to turn around, and then she looked back at me. “And I love your confidence, by the way,” she commented, pointing at what I was wearing. “That actually looks really good on you.”

My lips parted, but words didn’t come out.

What the fuck?

It wasn’t the first time that backhanded compliment had been thrown at me. It always held the tone of condescension. But each time, it grated on my nerves more. Because it wasn’t about my confidence. It was about their perceived judgment of my body and their disbelief that I managed to be confident despite what I looked like in their opinion. And it usually came from people who would swear up and down they were being complimentary.

Between the confidence comment and the use ofactually,I imagined slapping her across her face like Brayden’s wife did to him. But because I couldn’t fight, I just had to settle for a verbal confrontation.

My lip curled in disgust. “What do you mean thisactuallylooks good on me?”

“I’m just saying that it’s really flattering on your figure. And your confidence pulls it off.”

“My confidence? What are you talking about?”

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

She shrugged. “Your whole look. The way you carry yourself. You just look so… confident is all,” she explained. “The way you just chat it up with someone like him. I wish I was as confident as you.”

“How am I confident?” Even though I knew exactly what she was insinuating, I wanted to put her on the spot. “And why would it be difficult for me to talk to someone like him?”

“You just…” She gestured to my body and flashed me a fake smile. “Never mind.”

I stared at her, making her sit in her discomfort. “Commenting on my confidence and all I’m doing is sitting here is weird.”

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