Page 28 of Plus Size Player

“Inventory Day is an important day each month.” She shook her head, her shoulder-length locs swaying from side to side. She finished cutting open the huge box in front of her and then pushed her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose. “And you’re late.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Charlotte and I met three years ago at a party during fashion week. We had a similar eye and found ourselves voicing a likeminded opinion in a group discussion. That discussion turned into further conversation, and before I knew it, she was asking me if I was interested in modeling some of her merchandise.

She was looking to grow her brand and wanted to partner with a model. I was looking for an opportunity to model and dive full force into the fashion world. We developed a great working relationship and friendship that only grew as the time went by. My social media presence blew up, and because I was wearing her pieces, her online boutique, Charlotte’s Webb, blew up, too. I never wore the same thing twice and I paid very little for the items I actually wanted to keep. So a year ago, when she was just about to make the transition from an online boutique to a storefront in Richland, she asked if I wanted to work part-time—twice a month—in exchange for clothes.

Of course, I said yes.

So even though I only needed to come in for a five-hour shift to help with inventory today, I was almost an hour late.

“I overslept,” I explained, joining her at the opened box.

“You’ve never been late before.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Who was it?”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“I know you had a date, and then you come in late, with your skin glowing.” She pursed her lips. “Which one was it?”

Snickering, I grabbed a skirt out of the box. “The Fun One.”

“The Fun One,” she repeated as if that were his name. “And what exciting adventure did The Fun One take you on?”

“We went on a helicopter ride to see the sunset, and then we went to dinner.”

She dropped the shirt she’d just unpacked. “What?”

I nodded. “Surprise helicopter ride, dinner at this nice-ass restaurant, and then we went to his hotel downtown for dessert.” My smile grew. “It was a nice night.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I see. Such a good night that it made you late.”

I laughed. “I overslept. My intention was to go home after… dessert. But that man put me to sleep.”

“No wonder he’s your favorite.”

“You know I don’t play favorites.”

“You had back-to-back dates, right? The Smart One on Sunday and The Fun One on Monday.”

I grabbed the last skirt out of the box and put it on a hanger. “I did.”

“And you’re not sleeping with The Smart One, correct?”

“Correct.”

“So The Fun One is the only one you’re sleeping with?”

Just the thought of it created a flashback and caused me to clench. “Yes.”

“Your answer plus that look on your face tells me everything that I need to know.” She pointed a hanger at me. “The Fun One is your favorite. I rest my case.”

I burst out laughing. “In my defense, he’s kind of hard to compete with. It isn’t a fair competition.” Pausing, I put my hand on my hip. “You know… it’s really because I have a big heart. I don’t want to set the rest of the team up for failure. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Oh my God, Nina! I can’t with you!”

Charlotte always acted appalled by my dating life, but she hungon to every word and lived for my updates. I always assumed part of it was because she had been with her boyfriend for so long and she missed the excitement of dating. She never outright said it, but she was living vicariously through me, and I didn’t want to disappoint.

We spent the next four hours talking as we opened boxes, scanned in merchandise, and rearranged the floor display. Finally, I put my boxcutter in the drawer and took a last swig of water.

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