Page 9 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

I shrug because I don’t know how to follow my mama’s declaration. “Her bread pudding is the best in the state. And no raisins because that’s nasty to put rotten grapes in a perfectly good bread pudding.”

“I believe they’re dried, not rotten,” Ava says.

“Same difference. So tell me what all of this is about? Why did you run off to Saddle Creek? I know your sister lives here, but this is obviously more than just a friendly visit.”

“It's mostly about the fact that I have a job offer and they don't want me to take it. Instead they want me to marry some senator’s son from Connecticut or somewhere and be his little Stepford wife and I don't. I don't want to do that.”

Fuck, I don’t want her to do that either. The thought of this woman being with any other man but me makes me sick to my stomach. But I leave my comments about the other guy silent for the time being.

“What’s the job?” I ask.

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“I can promise you that I won’t.”

“I’ve been approached by a company to be their brand ambassador. It’s a big deal. They’re a national clothing and accessory line for curvy women and it’s a huge honor they want me.”

“You’re gorgeous so I’m not surprised.”

She blushes at my compliment. “They never even saw my face. All my pictures in that account are just my body.”

I swallow hard. “Okay, sugar, show me what you do,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“The pictures or whatever it is your parents don’t approve of.”

She grabs my phone and pulls up my Instagram, which I rarely ever use. She types something in and then hands my phone back to me.

My fingers curl around my device and I glance at the screen. It’s filled with little squares of pictures of her curvy body. She’s not naked. But those luscious curves are definitely on display.

She's wearing swimsuits, lingerie, cute different outfits. She's posed in different ways. Some of them have words across the screen. Body positivity quotes. Some of them are just her just curves from behind. Every now and then it’ll be a picture of food.

But none of them have her face, just like she said.

“Ava. Why? Why do none of these have your face? Why are you not here? Why are you not showing your eyes and your smile?”

She looks at me like I have three heads. “I realize you’ve never actually met my parents, but trust me when I say, they would have shut this down faster than I could have dreamt of building it. Going anonymous was my only shot at making something real. So I have my appropriate account under my name. And then I have this one.”

“Holy fuck, you have like 425,000 followers?”

“Yeah, well, I've had a few posts go viral, which is part of what has happened with the job offer, and I thought they'd be proud of me. You know, I thought they would see what I’ve done. And they would finally see me for who I am and they would be proud, and instead my mother was horrified. But, you know, my mom, she was Miss Texas, you know, back in the day, like with the sash and the crown and the whole like, stage wave.” She blows out a breath. “She went all the way to the Miss United States pageant or whatever it was called. Doesn't even matter. I was never going to be like that. My sister's not like that. But Rory never even tried; she never even cared and I guess, I guess Mom just knew not to beg her. But I don't know. I've always liked pretty things. I always liked makeup and dresses and doing my hair and my nails, and maybe it gave my mom hope that she could make me a little pageant baby. But I was always too chubby.”

“You look like a fucking goddess is what you look like. Those pageants are stupid. And if your parents can’t see how damn amazing you are, then they’re blind.”

“I just wanted to show other little girls that it's okay to not be a size two and it's okay to accidentally dye your hair green, and it's okay to not be perfect and still like to look pretty. Be your kind of pretty, even if it’s not society's way or your mom's way.”

I’m ready to get down on my knee and beg this woman to marry me. She’s a jewel among rocks and her parents are fools.

“New plan. This is what we're gonna do. We're gonna go to Houston together and you're gonna tell your parents that you're taking the job and they can suck it. And I'm sure that you could live with Rory if you needed to. Or I don't know, you can go live at my place. I'm not there most of the time.” I reach across the table and grab her hands. “You can even live with me in Coronado—that’s in California. But you need to do this. This is important. Your truth is important and I know there are girls out there that need to hear it. That’s why that company contacted you. They get it. I’m sorry your parents are so short-sighted.”

She gives me a watery laugh. “You think I can do all of that?”

“Look at what you’ve already done. You’ve been doing this without their support already. You don’t need it now. You’re an adult, Ava. If you need money, I’ve got some.”

“Why would you do this for me?”

“Because you matter. And men like your father need to know they can’t just call on a Navy SEAL to do their dirty work. That’s not how I roll.”

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