Page 22 of Plus Size Player

As soon as she was out of earshot, he pulled out his cell phone. “I’m going to call the hotel and have them deliver a bottle of wine to the room before we get there.” He started dialing numbers. “Once we get up there and close the door, I don’t want any interruptions.”

“I like the way you think,” I told him, popping the last piece of the date bar I’d started into my mouth.

“Hi, yes, I’m in suite 1151 and I’d like to order your best white wine to be delivered to my room…”

“Here’s your boxes,” the waitress said before realizing he was on the phone.

“I’ll take that,” I told her, taking them from her hand.

I put my dessert into one box, and then I tried to put his in the other box. He got off the phone and attempted to help me. It came out in pieces and completely lost its appeal.

I made a face. “Ummmm.”

He shrugged. “It’ll still taste good.” He stacked the boxes into the bag and stood. “But I’m going to be honest.” He slipped his jacket on. “I’m more interested in tasting you than anything in this bag.”

“Then, let’s go.”

He grabbed the bag and then reached out to take my hand. Helping me to my feet, he checked me out. “Yeah, let’s get you back to the room.”

“I’m right behind you. I’m just going to check on something real quick.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “Put the stuff in the car. I’ll be right out. Give me two minutes.”

He hesitated and I gave him a look.

“Please,” I whispered, knowing how much he liked hearing me beg.

His breath shook as he exhaled. “If you’re not out in two minutes, I’m coming back in.”

“Deal.”

He headed out and I searched for our waitress.

“… I just don’t understand it. She’s like twice his size and he is fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Maybe she’s giving him the rest of her tax money, or he’s between homes. I mean, she’s pretty for a fat girl, but there’s no way he’s really into her. It doesn’t make any sense. She’s toobig for him. They don’t fit,” she complained as I walked up. Her complaint ended when the nosy waitress widened her eyes and gestured for her to stop talking.

“Not according to him,” I chimed in, causing the waitress to turn. “Let him tell it, I’m the perfect fit for him.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” she said quickly, her face turning red.

“You were. But I came to give you a little advice. First and foremost, if you’re going to try to step to a man while he’s on a date, at least have the decency to wait until she’s in the bathroom or at the bar.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t—”

“You did. But you didn’t do a good job and you weren’t smooth with it. Which brings me to my second point.” I moved closer to her. “If you step to a man who is on a date, make sure he’s not all about her. Because he is into every inch of me. And you may not understand why he likes all this”—I ran my hands over my belly for emphasis—“but just know, he likes it a lot.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“And third,” I continued, interrupting whatever bullshit she was going to say, “don’t step to a man who’s on a date with a bitch like me. You’re small, and I’m big. And I don’t just mean in size. So, you can continue to talk shit but just remember that you can’t compete where you don’t compare.”

A mixture of indignation and embarrassment twisted her features, and I knew my work was done.

“I wasn’t going to take your man,” she sputtered.

“The only thing you could take from me is notes.”

Turning on my heel, I sauntered away with a huge smile on my face. Even though I wasn’t jealous and would never fight over a man, I meant everything I said to the waitress. And if there was one man who was worth the confrontation, it was Russell Long.

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