Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“You’re ugly,” I say. For the first time in my life, I see my sister in a different light. She’s not this beauty queen who deserves the applause and adoration of the world. She’s done nothing worthy of admiration or respect. She just happened to be born pretty and unfortunately, we live in a society that thinks physical beauty should be enough.
She snorts. “I have two hundred million social media followers that would disagree with you. What do you have? I’ll tell you what you have. You have your little books about fat girls.”
I don’t know this woman. It’s hard for me to fathom how we grew so far apart. This is the girl that once ran through a sprinkler with me, ate the purple popsicles because she knew I hated that flavor, and held my hand when we were at our parents’ funeral.
“I write books that empower women of every shape to believe they deserve a happily ever after despite what society tells them and you know what, Zola? I am damn proud of that. So, don’t call me again unless you want to apologize for stealing my boyfriend.”
With that, I end the call and stare at my phone in shock. I don’t know what Nana would say if she could have heard that. I know she always believed in me and encouraged me to stand up for myself. Well, today I did, and I think that’s worthy of a cookie. One of those really big, soft ones from Patty’s Cakes.
First though, I’m going to finish this damn book, so I don’t have to ever think of Brock again. It takes me most of the day and I have to keep ignoring his phone calls but eventually, I get the book finished.
When I’m done, I decide to call him and tell him that we’re through. But I get his voicemail which is even better. It really is my lucky day.
I take a deep breath and in my most casual, you-didn’t-break-my-heart voice, I tell him, “Hey, Brock. Just returning your call. I’ve had fun with you the past three days. You were exactly the distraction I needed to get out of my writing rut. This has been a great vacation fling. We should do it again sometime.”
Then I grab the keys to my rental and hustle down to the bakery. If I hurry, I can get there before closing.
When I walk into Patty’s Cakes, she rushes around the display case to greet me. “Oh, I was hoping you’d stop in again! I didn’t realize who you are earlier this week. I’ve read every one of your books. I love how you write about curvy women finding love. Do you think…would you mind signing some books for me?”
I smile and agree to sign them. Meeting fans of your work is the coolest feeling in the world. There’s nothing like hearing that a book you worked so hard on is loved by your readers.
“Alright, you just tell me what treats you want and follow me,” she says as she ushers me into the back of her bakery. Her industrial kitchen is modern and clean with all of the latest appliances. But it’s the steel table in the middle of the room that sends a thrill through me. It’s stacked with my books. Some of them have their spines bent from where they’ve been read repeatedly, and others are dog-eared with wrinkled covers.
Books are meant to be experienced and loved. Brock’s words from earlier come back to me, leaving an ache in my chest. I quickly push it away. I deserve more than being the side piece.
Patty passes me a pen and I get to work signing while she goes to the front of the store to find me a chocolate chip cookie and a coffee. I’m almost done with the books when I hear a familiar nasally tone say, “So, then I told that little slut to get out of Brock’s house. I mean, what a skank.”
For a moment, I consider slipping out the side of the bakery since she doesn’t know I’m here. But then I think about how good it felt to stand my ground earlier. I’m not going to sneak around like I did something wrong. I’m not my sister. I didn’t know Brock had a woman.
“You aren’t even dating him,” Patty argues. “You have to let him go. The more you chase him, the further he gets.”
Rage fills me as Patty’s words sink in. Amanda isn’t dating him. That means, I brushed off Brock for no reason. He was telling the truth when he said she was just an ex-girlfriend. But I let my past hurts with my sister change what I saw. I looked through a cracked lens, and the truth was distorted.
Before I can go marching out there to put Amanda in her place, I hear a masculine voice that I’d recognize anywhere. My heart thumps as Brock asks, “Is that what happened this morning? Is that why she won’t return my calls?”