Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The room was beautiful. Tables covered in elegant white tablecloths and topped with floral centerpieces surrounded a large T-shaped stage that divided the room in half, and two well-stocked bars and buffet tables were set up on each side of the room. A DJ was playing dance music and my body itched to move. Really move. God, I’d loved to dance BA.
BA and SA.
Before Accident and Since Accident.
That’s how everything was classified in my life right now.
“Here we go.” Vanessa put a glass of white wine in front of me and sank down beside me. “The party starts now. You hungry?”
“Famished,” I admitted.
“I’ll go fill a couple plates for us to share and then we can look through the program, see what else is on the menu.” She winked as she walked away and I shook my head fondly.
We’d been through a lot together over the last thirteen years, but nothing as traumatic as my accident. And Vanessa had been at my side every step of the way, holding my hand, encouraging me, and kicking my ass when necessary.
I took a sip of wine and looked around, wondering how many familiar faces I’d see.
I did a double take when I saw the owner of the small, local modeling agency, where I’d gotten my start, walk in with her husband and I resisted the urge to wave. Though I loved Delia Hammond, I didn’t have it in me to retell the story of the accident, my recovery, physical therapy, or, of course, answer the number one question on everyone’s mind: Are you going back to modeling?
I had no idea.
“Yum!” Vanessa set down two plates heaped with what appeared to be every item on the buffet table and sat down again. “And for dessert, they have salted caramel chocolate mousse or white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. Want to share both?”
Vanessa weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet but ate like an NFL linebacker. I hated her sometimes, but I just smiled and shook my head. “I’ll have a bite of each, but I need to focus on losing another ten pounds.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She popped a bite of prosciutto-wrapped mozzarella in her mouth and then opened the evening’s program on the table so we could look at it together.
“There’s your boy.” I pointed out the Cardinals’ new pitcher, Scotty Dominguez, on the first page. He was five-eleven with long-lashed dark eyes and short, dark hair cropped close to his head. But man, he had the world’s best lips. Between the lashes and the lips, he could be on magazine covers.
Vanessa cocked her head. “He’s sexy. But let’s see what else is out there.”
We flipped through the pages, checking out each bachelor that would be available tonight and I paused once we got toward the end of the program. “Now that’s a guy I could climb like a tree,” I murmured.
“Who is he?” Vanessa frowned.
“Defenseman for the Mavericks,” I said thoughtfully.
“Hockey?”
I nodded absently, reading the short blurb about him. “Holy shit, he’s six foot six, two-fifty.”
“And you love that long-haired Viking look,” Vanessa said, peering down at his photo. “He looks spectacularly underwhelmed in this picture.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure the single guys were forced into this.”
“Oooh, he’s Swedish. He’s younger than you too. Only twenty-six.”
I grinned. “I’m only twenty-eight, but I can cougar that boy all night long.”
We laughed together and it felt good to enjoy some sort of normalcy after the year I’d had. A big event like this was different than having a movie night at home, and I allowed myself to get into the spirit of the evening’s festivities. It was for a good cause, and if we could joke and laugh about hot guys and sex for a couple hours, all the better.
The auction started promptly at nine and though I’d told myself I wasn’t going to bid on a date, my glance kept dropping to the picture of Lars Jansson. Physically, he was the man of my dreams, but obviously I didn’t know him. He was probably a womanizing jerk—a lot of athletes were—and that wasn’t my thing at all. Even before the accident, I’d been careful to stay away from people like that. I had enough drama in my life.
As a plus-sized woman, I was used to comments about my weight. As the most recognized plus-sized supermodel in the world, I was used to people tolerating my body type because I was beautiful, wealthy, and successful. And I would never, ever settle for a man who didn’t love all of me. I’d done that already and I was still working on dealing with the humiliation. Going forward, I planned to be in complete control when it came to relationships, dating, and even one-night stands. Not that I’d ever had one of those.
Gazing down at Lars’s picture, I wondered if he looked as good in person as he did in the photo.