Page 4 of Midnight Kisses

She was definitely interested.

Satisfaction roared in my ears and in my dick. I wanted her, she wanted me. I had nothing better to do, and shedefinitelydidn’t. Bathroom wasn’t a fucking job.

“What do you say, blondie? Want to let a stranger eat you out while you’re supposed to be on the clock? Come on good girl, be bad with me.”

CHAPTER 2

PERRY

My day startedwith getting fired. Twice.

Now it was thirty minutes before midnight and a gorgeous man in a suit that had to have cost more than I made in a year was offering to get on his knees and eat my pussy.

Well—halfa suit. His pants were in my hand. The hand drier hadn’t done much for them.

There was no way I could have predicted the turn this day would take.

At 9am on the morning of New Year’s Eve, I’d been called mysteriously into my agent’s office. As usual, I was early, way earlier than my appointment time, so I had to sit at reception for an hour. This gave me a lot of time to ponder all the reasons for the call. Maybe the curve clothing company that notoriously used the same fat model for everything was branching out, maybe a mainstream retailer was launching extended sizes, or maybe a sales business had come to the radical realisation that fat people also used candles/towels/cars. Yes, I had plenty of time to ponder all of these scenarios, but still not enough that I guessed the real reason.

My agent was dropping me.

Liz said her clients didn't have enough ‘demand’ for plus size models.

“But—" she hastened to reassure me, her hand adorned with chunky cocktail rings heavy on my shoulder, “don’t let that stop you from re-applying in the future, Perry! We all adore you here.”

If only adoration paid my rent.

I knew my agent meant well and I didn’t want to make her feel worse, so I smiled through my hurt and told her I would re-apply again one day. In my car in the inner city parking lot I let the tears go, but not for long because I had a casting call for event staff in the afternoon and I didn’t want to be late. Or worse, blotchy.

I mopped my tears and headed to the Sky Tower with repaired makeup and a smile I hoped was warm.

I’d wait-staffed for fancy events like this before. They wanted hot people, but hot people who also knew how to balance plates or, in my case, check off names on a spreadsheet and smile as guests arrived. My now ex-agent had gotten me this job and I’d initially demurred, hoping that my days ofmodel-hyphen-waiterwork were over and I could do justmodeljobs while I built my own business. But Liz had wheedled, assuring me I would be placed on the door, and I felt bad saying no—which turned out to be a good thing, because I needed the money now that I didn’t have representation.

When I arrived at the event casting for the Purkiss Media party, the assembled model-hyphenates were a mix of many ethnicities and all very beautiful. All were under thirty, like me, but I was the only plus size person in the room. (A fat person always notices this).

The head of the event company, Momentum Events, was a thin woman with vivid orange lipstick which stood in starkcontrast to her pale face and hair. Very square teeth split a smile that never wavered, even as she stared at me like she was trying to x-ray me.

Her name was Ginger, which was ironic because I’d never seen anyone so devoid of spice in my life.

“We’re going to do a bit of a shuffle,” Ginger announced once everyone had found chairs in the meeting room. Still wielding that fixed smile, her eyes flicked to me and then back around the room. Dread cracked over me then, cold and sticky, like egg yolk running down the back of my neck.

I knew what was going to happen even before it did.

“Just a few last minute changes,” Ginger continued. “Tamatha, I’m going to put you on door as greeter. Peri–uh…how do you say it?”

“Peregrine,” I said. “But you can call me Perry.”

“Perry, I’m going to put you in as our washroom attendant .”

A thin person who I assumed was Tamatha leaned back in their chair, looking first relieved, then guilty. Their eyes found mine and they mouthed, “Sorry.”

I smiled back to show it was fine. This wasn’t their doing.

“Excellent.” Ginger clapped her hands. “Now, let’s go over the runsheet.”

Ginger had made the decision to remove me as greeter after seeing me in person.

Other people’s hang ups didn’t usually bother me, but I’d been caught off guard with this, and the hollows of my eyes began to ache. I swallowed repeatedly, trying to shake off more tears.

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