Curves Envy 3 - Claimed By An Alpha: BBW Billionaire Romance (13 page)

“Good for you. I’m happy you’re opening yourself up to new adventures. Keep it up. You look positively radiant. Any plans for the weekend?”

“I’ll be dashing off at five to meet a friend.” I smile. “And you?”

“I’m going to Chicago to connect with this new guy I’ve been seeing. He was here last weekend and it’s my turn to fly to him.”

“Awesome.”

Carl opens his mouth to continue the conversation, but his phone rings. He fishes in his pocket and when he sees a number on his phone, his entire face changes.
My God, I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable.
Carl is always so stoic and he’s a master at concealing his emotions, but the guy standing in front of me looks like a lovestruck puppy.

“Speaking of the devil. It’s Trent. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take this. I haven’t spoken to my honey since this morning.” Before I can answer, Carl is already waving goodbye and walking away from the kitchen.

Did he say “my honey”?
I shake my head, bewildered, and remember why I entered this room in the first place. “Okay, back to coffee,” I tell myself before opening a cupboard in search of the biggest mug I can find.
After this impromptu romp, I need a burst of energy.

The second the piping-hot coffee touches the bottom of my cup, I grab the mug in a hurry and I take my first sip.
Heaven can be found in a cup of java.
With my latte in hand, I march decisively to my desk, motivated to make the most of the next two hours.

I barely have time to turn my computer on before my phone rings. I’m hoping with all my heart it’s Max calling to tell me how much he already misses me, but when I pull out my phone from my bag, I realize it’s my cousin Trish.
What does she want now? She only calls when she needs something from me.

“Hi, Trish, to what do I owe this call?”

“Hey, coz, how are you? We haven’t spoken in weeks. It’s been way too long.”

Really? You’ve gone six months without enquiring to see if I was dead or alive and now a few weeks seems like a lifetime?
“Has it been already been so long? How have you been keeping?”

“Good. Busy. I’ve been getting so many incredible parts lately on smaller-budget films, a few up-and-coming TV shows and commercials. You might have seen me in a few of them.”

Nah, I’m not into the slasher movies you get booked for and I have no desire to surf the net to find the commercials shot for the international markets you seem to get all the time.
“Great news. All your hard work is finally paying off.”

“Well, I’m sure if I had a chance to get a feature on a major media outlet like CNN, my career would shoot off the charts.”

Ha. I see why she’s calling.

“Oh, are you talking about my tiny feature on a small website no one knows?” I pretend to play it coy, but I’m loving this moment so much.

“Tiny? Are you kidding me? You said you were an editor for a magazine, but it never occurred to me your job was so important you’d make the front page of CNN.com Living. Congrats.”

Of course it would never occur to you since you weren’t listening when you asked me about my job. You quickly moved on to some self-centered topic and you showed little interest in finding out more about me.
“Thanks, Trish. I appreciate the compliment.”

“We’re going to be able to see each other soon. I landed a career-changing role in three episodes of a series they say will be bigger than
Friends
and it’s shooting in New York. I’ve been meaning to call you for the last three weeks to tell you, but it’s been crazy between my acting jobs and my waitressing gig. I’ll be out there next week and I’ll stay in the Big Apple for about fourteen days. Maybe we can meet when I arrive.”

“Sorry, Trish. Bad timing. I’m off to Brazil to cover the Rio Moda Week. I’ll be there for eight days and I guess I’ll catch you at the tail end of your stay.”

“God, you’re the international maven now. It’s a deal. Let’s connect when you get back. Maybe we can finally go to the Bymark hotel for drinks since last time I couldn’t make it and you probably ended up going home right after we spoke.”

Not this bullshit again.
“I actually stayed. Remember, I told you I hooked up with a hot guy.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were joking. I mean…” She laughs on the other end as if she’s sitting front row at a comedy house.

Really?
“No, I was quite serious, Trish. In fact the sizzling, sexy and extremely rich man I bumped into while making my way to meet you invited me for drinks when I found you were stuck in Nashville… and he’s now my boyfriend.”
Snap.

The phone goes dead silent. Trish must be dying inside.
Wait for it. Four, three, two, one.

“Candy, you actually met someone at Bymark? For the love of God, the legendary place is crawling with eligible, handsome and outrageously wealthy men.”

“Exactly. And if you recall, I used those same adjectives to describe the man I’m dating now.”

Another long silence follows as Trish gets over the shock of my revelation and processes her worst nightmare—her plus-size cousin ends up with the type of man she’s always dreamed of being with.

“My, my, my. Good for you.”
I’m sure those words must have hurt like hell. She’s never been happy for anything positive in my life. Why start now?
“Things have changed a lot since I left New York…” Trish launches into a long spiel that will most likely ended up with her insulting me with a sly remark about my weight or the man I’m dating. I prepare myself for the blow when I notice Charlotte Jones, our receptionist, trying to catch my attention.

“One second,” I mouth, lifting my index finger to indicate I’ll be with her as quickly as I can get Trish to shut up.

Trish is still going on without any signs of taking a millisecond to breathe. When she finally takes a short pause, I grasp at the chance to cut short my conversation with my self-absorbed and condescending cousin.

“I have to go. One of my colleagues is standing in front of me and it looks important. Who knows, maybe CNN is calling for a follow-up interview.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry. I can’t believe my cousin might be featured twice on CNN.com,” she gushes.

“It’s still so surreal to me as well.” I know I shouldn’t lie like this, but I relish hearing Trish grovel on the other end because a family member is basking in her fifteen minutes of fame. When I hang up, I look up at Charlotte with a sigh of gratitude.
Thank God I didn’t have to keep listening to her monologue.
“I owe you for saving me from this drawn-out conversation.”

“I’m happy I was able to help.” Charlotte winks. “Candy, a messenger came and dropped this off for you while you were away from your desk. It came about an hour ago and I tried to find you, but I couldn’t. Since Maleficent is away so many people are taking advantage of this freedom, I assumed you were laughing it up with colleagues.”

“No. I was away from my desk for a few minutes, but I wasn’t too far.”

“Gotcha,” she says, surprised by my answer. “Well, while you were away, this came for you.” She hands me an envelope and walks away.

“Thanks,” I call out and she turns her head and waves.

I glance at the envelope. There’s no return address.
Strange. Who is this from?
I get up from my chair hoping I can still catch Charlotte, but she’s disappeared.

I’m troubled by the big blue envelope I’m holding in my hands for a few reasons. One, this is an unusual color and deviates from the common yellow or craft-paper envelopes I usually get. Two, my name is written out in exquisite penmanship instead of it being a label. Three, there’s no return address. And four, it says “confidential” in big black bold lettering.
Maybe the return address is on the delivery slip
.

I run to the reception area to find out which courier company delivered my mysterious package.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Charlotte, but there’s no return address. Did you keep the delivery slip?” I know I could easily open the package in my hand and find out who it’s from, but something is quite strange about it’s appearance and the word “confidential” is ominous. I immediately cast off the possibility it’s from Max, and since I hung out with my three best friends last night, I don’t think it’s from one of them. Not to mention I doubt they’d pay to send a courier over with a note or an invitation—they’d text me instead.

“Strange. Give me one sec. I’m sure I’ve already filed it.” Charlotte swivels on her chair and opens a cabinet behind her. She reaches to her far left and pulls out a folder and places it on her lap before leafing through the tabs to today’s date. “Here it is,” she says, holding up a yellow slip. “Hmmm.”

“What?”

“It’s blank. Weird. There’s always a name and return address. I’ve seen thousands of these and they are pretty standard. I didn’t pay attention when the courier dropped this off. I’m sorry, Candy.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.”

“You should open it. Whoever sent it took care in selecting an awesome-colored envelope. All that buzz from CNN.com is getting you a lot of attention. Maybe it’s from a secret admirer.”

Something tells me she’s wrong, but I don’t let on. “Good idea. Let me see who sent this. Thanks for your help.” I turn on my heel and head back to my desk. When I get to my cubicle, I immediately open my drawer and fish for my scissors to open my package, but I hesitate.
Why are you hesitating so much? Open the damn thing.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about all of this is quite eerie.

It’s a letter. I unfold the piece of paper and scan the words. As my eyes bounce from one sentence to another, it doesn’t take much time for my heart to sink in shock.

Dear Candice,

I’m sure you won’t remember me, but I used to work with your father at the lab. I’ve hesitated in getting in touch with you for the past few years because I felt awkward. I was quite close to your parents—especially your father. I’ve been following your progress and both your parents would be so proud of you. I can’t believe your CNN.com feature story. Congratulations.

I’ve been reading your blog for a few years now trying to muster up the courage to contact you. I know from your columns on the
Sassy
magazine website you’re off to Brazil in the coming days. I hope we might be able to meet face to face for coffee upon your return. I’m still shy in approaching you, so I’ll send another package when you get back in Manhattan with a location where we could potentially meet—if you feel comfortable. I’ll hold off on sharing my real name for now, but you can call me Annie Smith.

— Annie

PS: It might be best to keep this letter between the two of us. I know you’re no longer in contact with your father’s former business partner, but I though I’d mention it just in case.

PPS: I’m sorry about the passing of your grandmother. You should know her fight to claim justice for her son and his wife was an honorable one. She deserved her day in court because there’s far more to your parents’ deadly accident than her attorneys were able to dig up.

What the fuck? Who the hell is this?

I reread the letter six times while holding my breath. By the last read, cold sweat is dripping between my boobs and all the way down my spine. I’m on the verge of tears because I don’t know what to make of this. I knew something was creepy about this envelope and now it’s been confirmed. Who the heck is this Annie Smith woman?

Is she trying to blackmail me or was there more to my parents’ death? Could my grandmother have been right all along?

TO BE CONTINUED…

To Be Continued In Book 4
 

* * *

The Story Gets Even More Gripping And Passionate In

Curves Envy—Book 4 Curvy Conquest.

Grab Your Copy Today To Discover Who’s Trying To

Desperately Catch Candy’s Attention!

To Be Continued In Book 4

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