Fat Girl on a Plane by Kelly deVos

Author:Kelly deVos
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-03-29T14:52:55+00:00

SKINNY: Days 780–781 of NutriNation

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m cramming,” Piper says.

I’ve been calling her and leaving messages for days. This is the first time she’s picked up the phone.

“Brian is great and I was a jerk. I am a jerk. Can we just have lunch or something?” I ask.

She gives me a do-over. We meet at 1020 and I finally get my pulled-pork nachos. They make the words I have to say almost worth it. “Brian is really great. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” What’s wrong is that Brian is a total douche. But I remember the advice Grandma gave me two years ago. Take the high road. This too shall pass. What if I had listened? Things might have turned out differently.

I can be different now. I can pretend to like Brian. “I mean, pre-med? That’s impressive and tough, right?”

Piper relaxes on her barstool. There’s a crack as someone in the back starts a game of pool. “He wasn’t having the best day when you met him,” she says. “But after you left...it wound up being positive. We talked, and he’s been different. I think he’s trying to manage his stress better.”

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll be on my good behavior next time.”

She pushes her thick hair back. “Living in New York is a big adjustment.”

These are the lies that we agree to accept to preserve our friendship. Brian is not a know-it-all, controlling asshole and my attitude problems are due to the fact that New York has more big buildings than Phoenix.

I point at Piper’s jeans and say, “My question is, what are you wearing?”

She laughs. I’m still jealous of her teeth. “I only have a limited number of Cookie Vonn originals. You need to hurry up and finish those plus-size clothes you’re working on with Gareth Miller, so I’ll have something new to wear.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

After lunch, the Town Car drops me in front of Gareth’s redbrick building. I’m getting too used to special treatment, to the way the doorman says, “Good afternoon, Miss Vonn,” to the fact that all my expenses get charged to Gareth and I never hear about them again. A bit of my independence slips away each time I swipe Gareth’s Amex.

I enter the apartment and forget about all of that as I hear the shower running. We’ve had tons of sex since that first time in Argentina, and yet there’s something about the idea of Gareth and skin and hot water and steam that makes me shiver.

Creeping into the bedroom, I toss my black leather jacket on the bed, on top of Gareth’s camel hair coat, and follow the sound of the water. Visions of stripping and joining him in the shower do a hostile takeover of my brain. The old me wouldn’t have had the confidence to pull that kind of thing off and, honestly, I’m not sure if the new me does either.

I’m headed that way when I spot something on the stainless-steel console table outside the bathroom door.

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