Curves Couture-Completed

Chapter 4

Chapter4

"Colin?" I stared in amazement.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" cried Colin as he pushed past me to stride into the living room as if he owned it.

Erin ignored him as he continued to button up his shirt before moving to take a casual seat on the lounging chair.

"Look, it doesn't matter why he's here. What are you doing here?" I demanded, dead annoyed at having quite possibly my only chance ever to get it on with Erin interrupted by this piece of shit. There's a famous saying here somewhere. ... Be careful whom you sleep with, for they might just come back to fuck you.

"I came on behalf of your sister, Janice," he stated pompously. "Have you no shame, flaunting your fat ass to the world in some poor representation of a model? Plus-size model. The very notion is an antithesis to the term model. How can a plus-size anything be a model to society? It doesn't take any effort or skill to binge on garbage and then strut about, flaunting it all on excess fanny."

Alright, the man had issues.

If I'd been feeling shitty all day, this would be the low of all lows. I could feel my blood boil in response. Without any conscious thoughts, my hand lifted and slammed across his cheek with enough strength to give him whiplash.

The howl of laughter that erupted from the vicinity of the couch did not help sooth my ruffled feathers, so I found myself airborne and then crashing into Colin to land in a thump on his scrawny six-pack abs.

Then, it was as if all hell broke loose. The doorbell pealed almost simultaneously, announcing the arrival of my dressers, and from the sofa, the howls of laughter grew nearly hysterical. Then, right within the impact zone I was being buffeted with, "Get the fucking hell off me! You fat ass!"

So naturally, I burst into an outpour of tears.

I ignored the vitriol that continued to be heard sprouting out from an enraged Colin as I rose unseeingly to my feet. But then, Erin was there, reaching out to haul me up and into his arms before he reached down threateningly to do the same and then a little more to Colin. Colin unwisely accepted his proffered hand then regretted it instantly with a howl of pain. I stepped back more than a little, confused. Then, at the consistent peal of the doorbell, I swung around to go answer it, suddenly eager for that something to do.

I couldn't imagine what I ever saw in Colin that had me letting him be my very first. The last-man-standing or, more appropriately, the only-man-ever-likely, was no longer a good enough justification for my stupidity. I was deep in a void of my own creation, standing, staring unseeingly at my closed front door. The doorbell must have rung again, for my hand was reaching out to grasp the door handle to open it.

"What the fuck is going on in here? I was ringing that bell for ages," said an exotic svelte blonde who clicked her way in with precise strides that was sheer eroticism.

"Chantel!" cried out Colin. "What are you doing here?" he asked, scrambling to his feet and glaring at a grinning Erin all the way. I glared at Erin too, but Chantel was a distraction that was difficult to avoid. She very nearly screamed for attention, and in a room with two egoistical male supermodels, that was saying something.

"I come to do Erin a favor and attire his new foundling for tonight," she declared unconcerned. Then, staring at me, she declared, "I will make you the show stopper tonight. You will put them all to shame."

I managed a watery smile at that. I was already ashamed of myself, so that would be an appreciated turn of events. Closing my eyes, I resigned myself to the inevitable—yet more primping and prodding. That would surely be the norm from this moment on. Taking a deep breath, I took a step forward, clearly offering myself up for the deconstruction and reconstruction process of making me presentable. Never would I be able to simply just brush my teeth and head out the door again. But I guess glam was just the price I had to pay to be a part of all this. It was surprising really, that in all my years of managing Janice, I'd never picked up the finer points of dressing up. "I am all yours. Do with me what you will."