Page 49 of The C*ck Down the Block

How fucking complicated could a car commercial be? Get in the car, drive the car, look cool driving the car. Sold.

“That’s the hometown girl I’m selling to the press right now?” Maguire didn’t look up from his phone for this question, and he seemed all nonchalant about it, but there was something in his tone I didn’t like.

“Yeah. That’s her.”

“You two have been a pain in my ass. Got the PR team working overtime to keep her info out of the grubby hands of the tabloids. But man, are the Denver fans eating it up. You’ve gotten almost ten thousand new followers on IG just over the weekend.”

I’d been living in one spotlight or another for so long that it was all mostly meaningless to me. Maguire cared how many followers I had because it was his job. I couldn’t give two shits. I didn’t do any of my own posting. The PR team did.

“She’s gotten a few too. She handling this newfound fame thing all right?” That question did garner me an actual look in the eye from Mr. Face-Stuck-In-His-Phone. “Do you want me to get her some media training?”

“Trix? She’s fine. She mentioned her accounts had gotten some attention, but if it’s not about a celebrity baking show or books for teens or FlipFlops about chickens, she doesn’t really care.” Besides, I had doubled up the security detail in the neighborhood for the past few days. Most of the journalists knew better than to try and hang around my house.

I gave them plenty of access during the season and was happy enough to do press conferences and I even did the social appearances Maguire wanted me to. That was enough access into my life, thank you very much.

Now that I had Trixie in my life and on my arm, I wouldn’t be going on anymore of the dates he tried to set me up on with models and starlets. I knew it was all to give me a good image and all that, but I never cared about any of them.

“She’ll be on my arm at any other events you want me to attend too. I’ll ask her later if she wants any prep for that kind of stuff. She doesn’t love being in the spotlight.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t either if I was her. The internet is brutal on women, but more so on ladies with some junk in their trunk like your girl.”

What the fuck? “Don’t talk about her body like that, man, and what the hell are you talking about?”

For the first time in hours, Maguire actually stopped doing whatever the hell he did on his phone and laptop all the time. “Right. I’d recommend two things here, Chris. First of all, do not go scrolling through the comments of any post with the two of you in it, or even the ones with just her. There are a lot of trolls out there, and like I said, they aren’t kind to women in general. But the two of you are getting a lot of attention because of the, uh, differences in your, let’s say attractiveness.”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face and then fire you. Because I will do both.”

“It’s not me, man. It’s society. If you’re going to publicly date a bigger girl, you’re going to learn firsthand how ugly people can be, to both of you, but mostly her.”

Publicly? Like I should be fucking hiding that I was in love with and lusted after the most gorgeous, kind, smart, amazing woman I’d ever known in my life? “I am close to punching you right now. What’s the second thing?”

“Make sure your girl has thick skin. It’s better that she isn’t into social media. But eventually she’ll probably see something. And I can tell you from experience, that can be devastating to anyone.”

I narrowed my eyes at Maguire and studied him for a minute. “Your wife is a plus-size model, isn’t she? That’s the firsthand experience you’ve had. How she’s had a challenging time?”

“Yeah. But Sara Jayne has had a fuckton of media training, and she’s done a lot of inner work. In fact, she took a workshop from your mom when she first started in the business, and she still uses the skills she learned then to this day.”

Fuck. If ever I wished my mom was still around, it was right now. Not only could I use her advice, but I also wished to god she could see just how much in love with Trixie I was.

She’d been a plus-size model way before that was even a thing, and I’d heard her tell stories about how hard that was. After my dad had taken the defensive coordinator position at Denver State, she’d started a non-profit to promote body positivity and inclusivity in the fashion world, helping young models navigate the industry and empowering them to challenge the status quo.

I’d grown up with powerful, beautiful, plus-size women being the norm in my life, not the exception. But, because of my mom’s work, I also knew that Denver wasn’t the most body positive town, and that she’d worked tirelessly to fight fatphobia in big and small ways nearly every day. Especially in the media.

“Right. Trix is pretty solid in her confidence. Her mother was Sunshine Babcock back in the day, but now she’s a body and sex positive coach, so it’s not like Trixie won’t have had some background in shit like this. But maybe Sara Jayne and Trix could have coffee and, you know, exchange notes. I’ll ask her if she wants that when I talk to her later.”

Maguire was very rarely shocked. But his mouth hung open so long that I poked his chin to see if it was stuck. “Uh, Sunshine Babcock... the porn star? That’s Trixie’s mother? Oh fuck. Way to bury the lead. Do not let that get out.”

BALLGOWNS AND BASTARDS

TRIXIE

I was about twelve minutes from having a complete and total breakdown. Chris would be here in less than ten to pick me up and take me to the fundraiser, and all I had on were frilly new panties and a matching bra. Every dress I owned, a couple of Lulu’s, and one new one I’d splurged on when I probably shouldn’t have were strewn across my room. Lulu and Jules each held up the dress they thought I should wear.

“Come on, Trixie,” Jules said, holding out the slinky red number I’d just bought. Very Jessica Rabbit, minus the sequins. “This dress is daring, it’s vivacious, it’s just so you when you’re not being the buttoned-up librarian.”

“Hey, I’m a super cute buttoned-up librarian.” I reached into the front of my bra to give my boobs a little lift so they were actually where they were supposed to be.

“Yes, yes, we all know you’re a snack. But I swear this is going to make my brother—”

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