Page 50 of Curvy Love

“I’m ready for some cake.”

“We already cut the cake,” I say.

“Yes, but all I got to eat was that tiny bite you smooshed in my mouth.”

“Well, we can’t have that. Let’s go get you some cake.”

He pulls me into a hug. “You’ve made me so damn happy. I’d give away every dime I’ve made to get to have you by my side forever.”

“I know you would. Luckily for you, and all of the amazing people who work for you, you don’t have to do that. I’m not going anywhere.”

bachelor #10

A Grumpy/Sunshine Age-Gap Curvy Girl Romance

Remember going to a bachelor charity auction and bidding on the sexy Scottish bad boy of soccer for your supermodel boss from hell? But the press got it wrong and think you’re the one who spending a ridiculous amount of money to go on a date with him?

No? Right, that was me. Seriously, how is this my life?

Now because of some PR nightmare he’s in, Abbott and I are stuck going on a date of convenience. Because who doesn’t want to root for the hot jock and the awkward chubby girl? My boss is so angry she’s threatening to actually chew celery instead of simply drinking it, and I’m convinced there is not enough coffee in the world to make Mr. Grumpy Pants smile.

But something suspicious and confusing happens on our date...we have fun. And we kiss. A lot. That brogue of his talks me right out of my knickers, so do I believe him when he says this is real? Or is this all one big publicity stunt?

chapternineteen

Willow

“Willow!” Sabrina shrieks the minute I step into her house.

Her tone implies she’s in the midst of a disaster of epic proportions. If I didn’t know her—if I hadn’t worked as her assistant for the majority of the last year—I might assume she’d severed a limb or was being held hostage. I don’t even bother asking her what the problem is, because she will tell me whether I want to know or not. I set my purse down on the entryway table and grab my planner to bring into the kitchen where my boss is standing.

“You will never believe what happened,” she says.

“Probably not.” I set down my planner and open the fridge to pull out the ingredients for her green smoothie.

I work for Sabrina Wilde, the supermodel. Yep, the one who graced the cover of the sport’s swimsuit issue three years ago and who has been on the cover of nearly every woman’s magazine since she was sixteen. In all that time I’ve worked for her, I’ve never actually seen her eat anything that requires chewing.

I am not even kidding.

If I wasn’t in charge of scheduling her appointments to have her teeth whitened, I’d wonder if she still had them. It’s not like she smiles—not at me, anyway—so I have no visual proof her teeth exist.

And I would notice if she ate because I love food. I learned very quickly that I had to pack snacks with me to bring to work, because there’s no way I could rely on Sabrina to keep me fed. She pays me exceptionally well, which is theonlyreason I still work for her. She’s basically a nightmare.

I’m thinking it’s because she’s got to be hungry. I mean she drinks all her calories. Green smoothie in the morning consisting of an entire avocado, way too many stalks of celery and copious amounts of greens. Of course there’s protein powder, but not even like a chocolate-flavored one that a normal person would use. It makes me shudder to make it, but I do. I’ve learned to breathe through my nose otherwise she complains about my expression. Lunch is some kind of herbal hot drink tea thing she gets imported from who knows where. And then her dinner is a pink smoothie. That’s her entire diet. Two smoothies and herbal tea. Every day. Every single day. Look, I cannot even make this stuff up.

For the first week of my employment, I totally thought she was punking me. But obviously this is why she is on the cover of magazines and walks runways and I just had to go up a size in my jeans. Whatever. I’m comfortable with my curves.

I can’t pretend that I’ve always been this comfortable in my skin but dealing with her banished whatever lingering insecurities I had about being a curvy girl in a world that values visible ribs. I’ve seen firsthand how grumpy and disagreeable Sabrina is. All the time. If that’s the price of beauty, she can keep it.

“Can you believe it?” she demands. Clearly, I caught her mid-rant. She pushes her pale blonde hair back off her face. “So obviously you are going to have to go in my place.”

“Wait, what? I have to go where?”

“To the bachelor auction. Haven’t you been listening to me?”

No, I haven’t because ohmygosh this woman has so much drama that I just cannot even deal with it all. I’ve seriously considered trying to get a prescription for some anxiety meds and sneaking them in her smoothies, because she just needs to relax. But again there’s the whole food thing. I’d probably be an anxious, angry mess if all I could ever do was drink vegetables.

I’m pretty sure drugging my boss would be illegal, but I'm equally sure the right jury would let me off, especially if she took the stand and they saw firsthand what she’s like.

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