Page 25 of His Curvy Obsession

“Eric,” she says. “I was wondering if you could help me with something in the sanctuary real quick. Apparently there’s a flower situation.”

“Sure.”

I peel the woman on my arm off of me and follow my pink date to the exit. We make the short walk to the empty sanctuary and close the doors, cutting off the distant sound of music and people.

“What’s this flower situation about?” I ask, looking around.

“What?” Rebecca asks, turning back to me. “Oh, that. That was just an excuse. You looked like you could use a breather.”

I drop into a nearby pew and sigh in relief. The tightness in my chest is still present, but improving already. It actually began to loosen as soon as we got out of that dark and crowded reception hall.

Rebecca takes a seat next to me, careful not to brush against me in the process.

“We can stay here for as long as you need to,” she says quietly.

I nod, breathing slowly, feeling the clenching of my chest loosen more with every exhale.

One thing I’ve always appreciated about Rebecca is that she doesn’t mind silence. Some people feel the need to fill silence with endless talking, seeing silence as something wrong, something to be fixed. An absence of something that should be there.

For me, silence is like water, essential and sometimes too scarce for comfort.

With Rebecca, it’s never scarce. She gives it freely and easily, never seeing it as a sign that something is wrong. Never making me feel like something is wrong withmefor it, either.

“Don’t you need to be in there?” I ask after a few minutes go by. “To make a speech, or something?”

“Alyssa and her fiancé decided against wedding speeches,” she replies with a smile. “She’s afraid my mom will say something stupid. Honestly, my mom will probably say something stupid no matter what. Already did, in fact.”

“What did she say?”

She shakes her head.

“Just that you’re only dating me for sex,” she says. “She thinks guys only want one thing from girls like me.”

“What do you mean by girls like you?” I ask with a frown.

“You know...” she says, giving me a knowing look.

“I don’t know,” I reply.

“Heavy girls,” she replies, looking away from me. “God, it sounds so dumb just repeating it. I told you, she says stupid stuff. No wonder Alyssa doesn’t want to hand her a microphone tonight. Wise choice.”

I’m turning this information over in my mind.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Why would your body impact the things that I want from you?”

“Because you’re like…out of my league,” she laughs. “I mean, look at you. And then you’re rich, too. People are looking at us tonight and wondering why the hell you’re with me. And then their mind starts searching for explanations. It’s a classic cliche, an older man banging his younger assistant. Except with a twist: his assistant is fat.”

“I’m not even sleeping with you,” I say.

“People don’t know that,” she replies.

Oh. Right.

We fall silent again for a few minutes. Rebecca takes the fluffy feathered hair piece from her head, turning it in her fingers.

“I like that,” I say, nodding to it.

She smiles, turning to me.

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