Page 1 of Plus Size Player

1

“My friends call you ‘which one,’” I told Russ with a laugh.

“I know that’s a lie,” his deep, velvety voice replied good-naturedly. “They know exactly which one I am.”

Heat crept up my neck and flushed my face.

His confidence was just as sexy as everything else about him. He was exciting and with each date, I found myself more and more drawn to him. It wasn’t just the fun we had. It was the way he opened me up and lived in the moment with me. He was charismatic, charming, and irresistible. If I wasn’t careful, he would have me admitting as much.

Switching the phone to my other ear, I stared out my parents’ living room window with a huge grin on my face. “And what do your friends call me?”

“You really want to know?”

“I really want to know.”

“My girl.”

My stomach fluttered.

“Oop! They call me your girl?” My smile grew, even though he couldn’t see me. “I think you like me a little bit,” I teased.

He let out a light chuckle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We exchanged goodbyes, and it took me a few seconds to realize I was still smiling.

“I found it,” my mother yelled from upstairs. Jogging down the steps carrying a vintage designer bag, she grinned. “This is the one I was telling you about.”

My eyebrow quirked with interest. “This is cute.” I took it out of her hand and held it against my red floral dress. The black rectangular bag with the gold handle really was gorgeous. “But it’s not going to work because of my shoes.” An image popped into my mind. “I know just the thing this would go with! You know thosegold shoes I sent you a picture of? That would be perfect!” I looked at her with pleading eyes. “Can I borrow this for a photoshoot?”

“You can have it!”

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh, wow, really?”

My mom loved her bags.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I got a similar one a couple weeks ago, so this one is for you.”

“Thanks, Mom!” The grin crept across my face as I posed. “How do I look?”

“You should be a model,” my mother commented as she stared at me from across the room. “You really should.”

She was honest and direct—that’s where I got it from. My mom and I always had a good relationship, but we didn’t see eye to eye on my career. She thought I was wasting my talents, while I knew I was enterprising.

“Iama model,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

She sighed. “No, Nina… a real model. Not an internet model.”

“What’s the difference, in your opinion?”

“Respect. Stability. Money.” She looked me dead in my face, her hand on her hip. “Need I go on?”

“I have all of those things now.”

She squinted her eyes and gave me a questioning look. “Do you?”

Oop! No, she didn’t!

I wanted to have a snarky reply, but I cracked up.

---