Page 1 of Curvy Crush
Chapter One
LOLA
The spring air is warm and fragrant as I walk through town, hanging up fliers for my photography business. Things have been a little slow lately, but I’m hoping the warmer weather will get people out of the house and ready for family photos, weddings, and engagement parties again. I’ve managed to make it through winter solely on the profits from Christmas photos. It seemed like every family in town wanted photos of their cute little kids on Santa’s lap. Now that winter is over and spring is here, and my little nest egg is dwindling quickly. It’s time to get back to work. That, or I’ll have to pick up a part-time job at a local business—something I don’t really want to do.
Photography is my passion, and it’s the only thing I’ve ever been able to see myself doing. I love capturing precious moments on film, and getting to be a part of a loving family’s celebration or someone’s important day. Running my own business is just as important. I’m more of a free spirit, and having to be at the same place every day at the same time gets old quickly for me. Being told what to do isn’t my strong suit. I don’t blindly follow orders. I’ve lost many jobs over the years because I prefer to be a leader rather than a follower.
I woke up early this morning so I could get busy hanging fliers around town. So far, I’ve managed to put one up at the market, the book store, the post office, bank, and a few boutiques in town. I still have the bakery, bars, and restaurants to do, but it’s good exercise, something I could probably use. I’m not a size two, and I never have been despite my efforts. My weight—and, more importantly, how people react to it—keeps me feeling a little shy, like I don’t want to be the center of attention… and that isn’t any good when you need to promote yourself.
My weight gets in the way of a lot of things. It’s affected friendships, relationships, and, of course, my work life. Most of my clients don’t seem to mind, but there have been a few times when I’ve had to turn jobs down just because I know I couldn’t make the two mile hike up the mountain to do the kind of shoot the client wanted. I don’t love my body, but I am trying to even though I still have my down days like anyone else.
I walk into the local bakery and the smell of freshly baked breads, dough, and coffee fills my nose. I inhale it deeply. This is one of my most favorite places in town. They have the strongest coffee, with a special homemade creamer that’s thick and delicious. Their baked goods are to die for, always rich, decadent, and filling. It’s the one time I don’t mind stuffing my face with empty calories. I hang my flier on the bulletin board and move into line. I think after my mile hike around town, I deserve some coffee and a couple donuts for breakfast. This is why I can’t lose any weight, but I’m in no hurry to give up my weekly bakery breakfast until I’m convinced that skinny feels better than being fat tastes.
I wait in line and when I get to the register, I order a medium coffee with the special creamer I love so much, and add on a chocolate, iced Long John with a custard filling, and a glazed jelly donut with my favorite raspberry filling. I hand over the money and step to the side to wait for my order.
The bell above the door rings. Living in a small town has taught us all to glance at the door to see who came in. I smile when my eyes lock with my best friend, Stella. “Hi, honey,” I say, hugging her as she steps into line.
“Good morning. You’re looking good and refreshed today. What have you been up to? You’re practically glowing.”
“That’s not glow. That’s sweat,” I laugh out. “I’ve been walking around town his morning to hang fliers. I need to book some appointments before I can’t make rent.”
“Oh, I’ll put one up in the office and the book store if you want.”
“I already put one in the book store, but the office would be great. Thanks,” I say, handing her a flier.
“Your order is up, hon,” the lady behind the register says.
“Hey, are you in a hurry or do you have a minute to enjoy some breakfast with me?”
She checks the time on her watch. “I can stay for a bit.”
I take my items to a nearby table and have a seat. I remove the plastic lid from my cup to let the coffee cool off before taking a sip. I open the small box and find my favorite two donuts waiting on me, looking as delicious as ever. I do a quick eeny, meeny, miney, moe in my head to decide on which to eat first. I start with the jelly and take a bite. Moments later, Stella is sliding into the chair across from me.
“How’s things going?” she asks, sipping her coffee.
I shrug. “Same old.”
“Have you heard anything from Hank?”
I snort and laugh. “No, I doubt I’ll hear anything ever again. Word around town is that he’s askedherto marry him.”
She groans and rolls her eyes. “Seriously?”
I nod. “Yep. I guess he wants to make sure she can’t get pissed and kick him out again.”
Hank is an old boyfriend of mine. We got together and got serious way too quickly, something I always seem to do. If a man tells me how beautiful I am, I can’t help but believe him because I’m so desperate to hear someone say those words and mean them. He moved in with me right away, and the relationship only lasted a couple of months before he got back with his ex. He went from her place, to mine, back to her place, and now they’re engaged. I always felt like he only got with me for a place to stay. I say I’m not bothered by him, that he’s nothing but a loser, but truthfully, I’m worried. If I can’t hold onto a horrible man like that, what chance do I have at landing an actual decent man?
Stella reaches out and places her hand on mine. “Don’t let him get to you, Lola. You’re way too good for a guy like that. Just be patient. It will happen when you’re least expecting it.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, but right now, the only thing I’m focusing on is getting some business in the door so that I don’t have to sell out and get a real job.”
We both laugh and go about eating our donuts and enjoying our coffee.
Twenty minutes later, we’re both finished and walking out the door together. She gives me a quick hug and we go in our separate directions, her to work and me back toward my studio in the backyard of my house. Well, if you want to be technical, it’s actually a small shed that I’ve turned into my studio, but it works for everything I need. It’s big enough that I have my desk, computer, and all my equipment in there. I have props, backdrops, and even a small room divider for wardrobe changes. It works for now, but one day I dream of owning my own real studio.
I make the walk back home, and instead of going into the house, I let myself in the white picket fence and walk around the house to the back. I pull my keys out of my pocket and open up the shed doors. Inside, it feels a little stuffy, so I open the windows and have a seat at my desk. I look around the room and decide on rearranging a few things, doing some spring cleaning, and getting everything in order for when appointments pick up. I have a ton of totes stacked up in the corner of the room, so I go through them and sort through the contents. I throw stuff away, put things I need in a new spot, put anything that I don’t use back into the totes, and push them off to the side so I can store them in the loft space for safekeeping.
As I’m cleaning, I can’t help but to think back on what Stella said over breakfast. I wonder if it holds any truth. Will I find the love of my life when I least expect it, or is that just something you say to a lost cause to keep them hopeful? I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror by accident, but all I see are my curves and rolls and dimples. I don’t see my sparkling blue eyes. I can’t see the soft curls of my red hair. I can’t see a wide smile that brightens everyone’s day. All I see is my size, the same thing everyone else sees. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and force myself to find one thing I love about my appearance. When I open them, I’ve forced myself into a different mindset. I smile at myself, loving the two dimples on my cheeks. I love my smooth, clear skin. I love the way my face looks with my makeup done. My eyes seem brighter when they’re surrounded by mascara, eyeliner, and shadow.
