Curvy (2 page)

“
T
omorrow
?” I can hardly keep the shock out of my voice.

I’ve been in the mountains with my family on a ski trip for the past three days, and I’ve been away from all communication. We were in a cabin in the mountains, and nobody got cell reception up there. It was actually kind of nice to unplug with them for a few days while we all played in the snow.

But when we got down the mountain, my phone came to life, and I had a slew of missed calls and texts telling me to call immediately. I thought someone had died, but no. It was actually Rita, the chick in charge of me, running around like crazy.

Normally I don’t have a problem with a booking because when I get called for a shoot, they’re scheduled months in advance. Now my agency is telling me that I have to get my butt on a plane right now, so that I can be in Los Angeles tomorrow.

“Yes. The marketing director was very specific.” I hear Rita let out a sigh. “If I could have gotten ahold of you when I found out, this wouldn’t all be so last minute.”

I can hear the annoyance in her voice, but I just let it go. We both want me to work. I want to do my thing and make some money, and so does she. This is business, so I pull out my positive attitude and get things moving.

“I can be ready in fifteen. Just tell me which gate my plane is leaving from.”

As Rita gives me the details, I run around my apartment, throwing shit in a bag. I know they’ll have everything I need at the photo shoot, so I just bring essentials. I have a girlfriend who lives in LA, so I toss in a couple of fun outfits in case we feel like going out after I’m finished with the shoot.

After a tornado of packing and getting to the airport, I text my friend Sasha to tell her I’m coming into town for a few days. My agency booked me a hotel room near the airport and then emailed me the info on the photo shoot.

Once I’m to my gate, I sit down and look over the details of the contract while I wait for my flight to be called. It’s a lingerie campaign for a company called Curved Intimates. I’ve heard a little about them, but I’m not too familiar with their company. They’re owned by a parent company called Breakstone Corporation, but I’ve never heard of them. I Google Curved Intimates and thumb through their website. It’s all pretty basic, some department store looks, generic styles. Nothing really stands out to me, and I’m a tad disappointed. Maybe this shoot will be different. I try to pump myself up about it because if I have to do one more spread for mom jeans, I’m gonna die.

My lookbook is small because most of the photos I’d had professionally done for campaigns weren’t ones I loved. Thankfully, I have a friend who lives close to me who does photography, and I’d lucked out by getting a few sessions with her. She does a lot of boudoir work for couples, and the ones she took of me are my favorite ones to date.

It’s hard being a plus-size model. I love sexy pictures, and modeling is fun to me. But the thinner girls tend to get the good clothes. Everything is always made for smaller sizes, which is okay, but big girls want to be stylish, too. I see comments sometimes where people say I’ve got the body of a “real woman.” I think every size is beautiful. Every woman is a
real
woman: tall, short, thin, and big. Beauty comes in different shapes. I’d just prefer it if the sexy stuff came in my size more often.

Flicking through my social media, I check in and say hello to everyone. As I’m typing away, my name is called over the intercom, and I get nervous. When someone calls my name like that, it feels like I’m being called to the principal’s office.

I grab my bag and walk up to the gate check to speak to the man behind the counter.

“Ms. Carr, we just wanted to inform you that you’ve been upgraded to first class. If I could see your boarding pass, I’ll exchange it for you.”

I must have a look of shock on my face. After a pause, I pull out the paper and hand it to him, getting the new first class one in return.

Going back over to the seat I was in moments ago, I try to think about why I’d been bumped up. Maybe the cabin is full or something. Hell, maybe they saw I was a big girl and thought I needed the room. Shrugging my shoulders, I let it go and go back to playing on my phone until they call me.

T
he flight
from Atlanta to LA is long, but being in first class is nice. The extra legroom and snacks are the way to go. I just have a small carry on, so once I’m off the plane, I make my way through the airport and towards the exit. I have my hotel reservation saved on my phone, so I’ll just cab it there.

But before I can exit, I see a man in a suit holding up a sign with CALI CARR printed on it. I stop, thinking there must be someone else with that name, but he looks straight at me and smiles. He walks over to me and I stand still, waiting on the punch line.

“Ms. Carr, I’m Donald, your driver. I’ll be taking you to your hotel.”

I try to play it cool as he takes my bag. You know, act like this happens to me all the time, when really inside I’m freaking out at how exciting this is. This company must be rolling out the red carpet for this shoot. So far, I’m down with Curved Intimates.

Donald leads me out to a Mercedes SUV and opens the back door for me. I get in, and he puts my bag in beside me. He shuts the door briskly and goes around to the front. Once he gets behind the wheel, I tell him which hotel I’m staying at.

“Oh. You must have gotten a different itinerary. I’ve got instructions to take you to the Waldorf Astoria in Beverly Hills.”

I lean back in my seat, feeling really confused. “Are you sure?” I check my phone but don’t see an updated email, so I sent a quick text to Rita asking her about the change.

“Yes, Ms. Carr. My instructions were clear.” He says it like he takes people there every day.

Well, he’s a driver, so maybe he does.

“And you’re sure you’re supposed to pick up Cali Carr? From Atlanta? I just want to make sure I’m not in the wrong vehicle.”

Donald laughs and shakes his head. “I’ve been employed by Breakstone Corp, specifically Mr. Flynn Long, to take you to the Waldorf.”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly, refreshing my phone for news from Rita.

I guess their marketing director is the Flynn Long guy. Maybe it isn’t a mistake. After a few moments, my phone vibrates in my hands, and I see a text from her.

Rita: Looks like you got upgraded. Enjoy!

I smile as I put my phone in my bag and slide on my sunglasses. I guess I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride.

R
iding in the car
, I clench and unclench my hands as I try to release some of the anticipation that has been building for days. I know it’s only been four days since I first saw her picture, but my every thought seems to be consumed by her. Can you be obsessed with someone just from a picture? If you had asked me that a week ago, I would’ve laughed.

Women haven’t been at the forefront of my mind in years. Since I lost my father five years ago, my only thought was keeping the business he’d built thriving. I wanted to make it bigger and better, to make him proud. He loved Breakstone Corp and had built it from the ground up. Sometimes I even thought he loved the place more than his own family.

Now, something besides work has moved into my mind. I’m no longer spending hours going over things for the office. No, I’ve been obsessively searching the internet, looking and re-looking at pictures of Cali Carr. I flex my right hand again, thinking about the ache there. I’ve taken myself in hand so many times to try to ease some of the lust I’ve been feeling. But it hasn’t worked.

Thoughts of her spread out on my bed as I rip those garments from her body plague my mind. As I’d feast on every inch of her lush curves, she’d beg me to take her, but I’d take my time, wanting to taste all of her. Touch all of her soft body. Dig my fingers into her wild red hair as I thrust in and out of her with nothing between us. My cock getting his taste, too.

Fantasy after fantasy played through my mind as I stroked myself over and over again. All it did was give me a sore wrist and a very hard cock that refused to go down.

Fuck.

Maybe once I see her in person, the ache will start to dull. Maybe I’ve build it up to be bigger than it really is.

“Sir, we’re here,” my driver says, pulling me from my thoughts of Cali.

I don’t wait for him to open the door for me. I hop out, anxious to get inside and see her. I’ve never gone to a shoot for an ad campaign. I give my ideas and wait to see the finished project. Sometimes I’ll get updates of what’s happening with them while they’re going on and I’ll add my thoughts from my office. But this is very different.

When I enter the studio, I see Lynn’s face fill with surprise. She jumps out of her chair and rushes towards me. Her short blonde hair bounces with each step as she totters in her ridiculous high heels. She’s extremely short, even in those shoes.

“Sir, I didn’t know you’d be coming. Did I miss something?” She pulls out her phone, probably looking to see if I’d called or sent an email that she’d missed.

“No, Lynn. I’m just here to watch.”

She eyes me, still seeming a little nervous that the boss is going to be watching everything today. “Okay. I’ll get you a chair, or you can have mine.” She points to the chair she just vacated.

“I’m fine. I think I’ll just stand in the back,” I tell her. I want to stand out of sight and watch her first. Get a feel for her and see if I can learn something else about her. I refrained from going to her hotel last night and it almost killed me. I drove by twice and debated going into the bar just to see if she was there.

I’d finally broken and asked my head of security to go in and check it out. If she was at the bar, I was going in. I knew someone would make a move on her if she was there. She is perfect and I couldn’t blame them, but that shit wasn’t happening. From what I could find out, I believe she’s single, but I don’t give a fuck if she isn’t. Whatever she had going on before today is over. She’s here in Los Angeles, and I won’t be letting her go.

I’d let out a sigh of relief when my guy informed me that she was in her room and had just ordered room service and rented a movie. I still made him stay and keep an eye out for her. If she moved from her room, I wanted to know about it. It was then I finally let myself go home. She was here and within my reach. That had helped calm my inner battle a little.

“Oh good, the photographer is here.” I look over my shoulder to where Lynn is looking, and my jaw clenches so hard I’m shocked I don’t crack my teeth.

The photographer looks like he should be on the other side of the camera. He’s young, maybe college-age.

“That’s not happening,” I tell Lynn, looking back at her.

“What?” She looks confused and panic starts to set in on her face.

“He will not be seeing my Cali in her underwear,” I bite out, trying to stay cool, but not caring that I’m giving myself up about wanting Cali. I don’t care if everyone knows. They’ll all know soon enough.

Realization sets in, and a smile pulls at her lips, but one hard look from me makes it drop quickly.

“He’s gay, sir.”

“He won’t be when he sees her.”

I find it completely unbelievable that there would be a man on earth who wouldn’t want her. I’d only seen a picture of her and I was obsessed.

Consumed.

Maybe I should just take the pictures myself. I debate the idea in my head.

“I can send everyone home and get something else set up.”

Fuck.

“Just start with the other girls. There are other girls doing the shoot, right?” I ask. I actually don’t know anything about the shoot now that I think about it. My mind has only been on the fact that Cali would be here.

“Yes, there are some right there.” She turns, pointing to the corner of the room. Sure enough, there are eight women standing there, all made up and wearing almost nothing. I hadn’t even noticed them, but they’re all looking at me and whispering. I’m sure they’re wondering who I am, or else they know who I am and are wondering what I’m doing here.

Great. That’s the last thing I need right now. I didn’t want to attract attention. Well, I only wanted to capture one person’s attention.

“Where is she?” I ask, pulling my eyes back to Lynn. I know she’s already here. Security told me when she left this morning, and I had a car bring her here.

“There was a problem with the lingerie.” Lynn looks around as if unsure how to word what she wants to say. “The bra. She was spilling over the top. They’re trying to fix it as we speak.”

I crush down the image of someone helping her into a bra. I take a deep breath.

Someone calls Lynn’s name, and she dashes back over to the set area to break up something between two of the models.

Taking a few more breaths, I try to get myself under control. She doesn’t even know who I am. I calm myself down and try to be cool and relaxed. I can do this. I can behave like a normal person instead of a caveman. I can’t let this be the first time she sees me, a fucking jealous nut case.

Then I see her step out from backstage.

Looks like I might not have a choice.