Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
A lot of people still see plus-size models and plus-size clothing as a necessary evil forced upon them by the body positivity movement. Not Daphne Parrish & Co. Blaze and Alaric treat us like queens. My contract is more than generous, especially with it being my first big job.
I love spending time here, and not just because of Blaze.
The fashion industry is full of predatory men and mean girls. But they don't tolerate that kind of behavior here. I look forward to coming here for fittings because no one ever has a negative thing to say about me, my body, or any part of it. If something doesn't work, they would never dream of insinuating that it would be fine if only I were smaller.
Trinity blacklists companies who treat us like that, but it's harder to nix working with designers. She doesn't always have a say in what designers work for which companies. Which means we've all dealt with nightmare designers who hate our bodies a time or two. Especially those of us just starting out.
This job has been a dream. I'm still a little surprised they picked me over everyone else, especially since I'm new. But the last two months have flown by. My final shoot is three days after Christmas. After that, all I have left to do is walk a couple shows and attend the launch party in mid-January. My time here will be up, and I'll be on to the next job.
Which means I'm out of time to make Blaze notice me. It's now or never.
"You can back out," Sariah reminds me, no judgment in her voice.
She's right. If I backed out, Blaze wouldn't be angry at all. But I'm a model, for God's sake. I've worn far less than this for the entire world to see—like the lingerie line. Every piece is more daring than the last, and it'll be in magazines and billboards around the world. But I was on a closed set with half a dozen people for the shoots. I wasn't parading around a party with Blaze at my side.
Will he even let me go out there in this outfit?
I've seen the way he looks at me. It's almost like he's unable to see anything but me sometimes. He gets grumpy when I talk to anyone with a penis. He's attracted to me; I know that much. I think he thinks I'm too young for him, though. In his eyes, I'm just the curvy young model who likes to give him a hard time. I'm not a woman. Not really.
I've been pushing his buttons for two months, trying to get underneath his skin, trying to make him see how badly I want him. I don't even know why I keep doing it! But he looks at me and I want to be bad, just to see how he'll react. I want him to make me behave. Maybe that makes me weird, I don't know. But I can't help it.
He looks at me, and I want him to feel the things I do, to want the things I do. I'm tired of feeling them by myself, of trying to make sense of them on my own. I need him to help me do it before I burst out of my skin. The way I feel about him is overwhelming, like it's too big to be contained. And yet I don't have the first clue how to make it less overwhelming. My body aches constantly, and nothing helps.
I need him to teach me how to fix it because I'm pretty certain no one else on earth is capable of doing it for me. It has to be him. My daddy.
If this outfit doesn't change his mind about me, nothing ever will. And the clock is ticking.
"I can do this," I say, tipping my head forward to meet Sariah's gaze. I fill my words with a confidence I don't feel, giving her a reassuring smile. My stomach quivers as nervous energy surges through me, but I force it back. Fake it 'til you make it. That's the Hollywood way.
I can do this. For a chance to make Blaze my daddy, I will do this.
No guts, no glory, right?
"Are you sure?" Sariah asks.
"Positive."
Chapter Three
Blaze
"Is she ready?" I demand as Sariah steps out of the dressing room with our intern in tow.
"Almost." Sariah offers me a bright smile. Is it just my imagination or does she seem nervous? Sariah is one of the youngest designers we have working here. She's also one of the most talented. She's a piss poor liar though because she's definitely nervous. When the door clicks closed, she almost jumps out of her skin.
"What's the problem?" I ask, pacing across the sewing room toward her. Halfway there, I have to stop to readjust my coat. Sariah's team worked magic to create a debonair Santa suit in record time, but it's far from perfect. The boots are a size too big, the temporary beard dye itches like a son of a bitch, and I'm in danger of Hulking out of the red overcoat at any minute. That's fine though. Georgia can pay me back for the inconvenience when she's in my bed and I'm eating her to multiple orgasms.