Page 7 of Purrfectly Trapped

Before heading down to meet the girls, she’d left the windows open, and the essential oil diffuser on while she worked on the salon. Grateful now for her forethought, Gretchen breathed in the clean smells and smiled contentedly.

The whole place had a clean, fresh scent, and she hummed a tune happily as she walked around closing windows and locking them. For a minute there, she had thought she’d never get the smells of bleach, furniture polish, and window washer out of her nostrils, but thankfully, she was wrong about that.

“This is gonna work. Life’s gonna be so good from now on,” she told herself, giving herself a little pep talk.

Gretchen had spent most of her youth being ignored and trying to remain that way. Growing up chubby was not something her trim uncle and athletic cousins approved of. She’d been taunted and made fun of, especially when she showed an interest in hair.

“Who in the world is gonna go to you to make themselves look good?”Cousin Alfred had told her when she finally packed her bags after high school.

Well, Gretchen had been successfully employed as a stylist for a decade now, so the answer to his snotty question was plenty of folks! She was painfully shy when she was younger, but not anymore.

Having a fuller figure was not a negative, at least that was how Gretchen saw it. She loved her body, her extra curves and love handles, and her unique sense of style. She had a gift for beauty, and a knack for making others look their very best, and Gretchen was not afraid to use either.

She had spent most of her time much since arriving on the storefront, so upstairs, where she would live, was still a bit of a mess. Not dirty, but definitely unorganized. Half a dozen sturdy storage boxes sat piled in the hallway, waiting to be unpacked, but she was too worn out to get to it tonight.

At least the bedroom was all done, she thought, and walked past the new king-sized bed she’d bought herself. It was the one item she’d splurged on. A business necessity, she had convincingly told herself since she’d be on her feet twelve to fourteen hours a day, and therefore, needed to sleep well at night to feel ready and refreshed.

Giggling at the way she’d spun that tale, even if only to herself, Gretchen headed for the master bathroom. It was not overly large, but it was bigger than the one she’d previously had. Neat and clean after the good bleaching she’d given it, she took a moment to admire the gauzy curtain she’d hung up over the window next to an antique oval mirror in a painted frame.

Blue glass tiles lined the floors and the walls, offset by creamy white trim and a large pedestal sink. A bar for hand and bath towels was mounted to the wall, and there was a wire rack for toilet paper. She’d already added a shelf for her hair dryer, curling iron, and makeup, and there was a large linen cabinet against the wall that held towels and other toiletries, giving the whole room a friendly finished look.

The shower was her absolute favorite. Whoever had lived there before had removed the sheetrock wall that separated the bedroom from the shower, replacing that with eight inch glass bricks. The effect was scintillating. A sort of, naughty little peepshow of the person showering for anyone on the other side.

Kinky, she thought, as she settled under the warm spray of water.

Two could definitely fit inside the large stall. Smiling at the image of her and some hot fantasy guy, she gave herself over to the imagery and sighed under the warm spray of water. There was even a seat built into the wall that should certainly come in handy for somesmexy fun in the shower times.

If only the occasion arose so Gretchen could test her theory. She picked up her loofah and body wash and built a good lather to wash away the aches and pains of the day’s activities. Moving furniture was not exactly her calling.

Gretchen was used to being on her feet for long hours, sometimes trekking her equipment to people’s houses or hotels for work. She specialized in fancy updos and had catered to plenty a bridezilla in her time. But this was a different kind of sore. Her aches had aches, for pity’s sake!

“Owie,” she groaned, and stretched her muscles.

Stylists had to have good endurance, and she had that in spades. Muscles were a different thing all together. She has always been on the fluffier side of the totem pole. Who was she kidding? Gretchen was more than fluffy. She had big, heavy breasts. Triple D's that required serious support. Beneath those bad girls were belly rolls, large hips, plenty of ass, and some serious thunder thighs.

Sigh.

There was no sugarcoating it. And why should she even try? What you see was what you get with Gretchen. She was what her grandmother had calledpleasantly plump, back before she’d been orphaned and sent to live with her uncle.

She was a good, solid size sixteen, with no apologies. Rolling her eyes in pleasure as she ran the loofah over her elbows, knees, and ankles, she washed away the grime and aches of the day’s work.

Next, she grabbed a natural bath sponge and squeezed more of the tiger blossom scented body wash onto it before working the soap into a lather over every single inch of her soft, curvy body. It was her favorite scent and would leave her skin feeling refreshed and silky smooth.

It had taken some doing, but she’d learned to love herself, rolls and all. She couldn’t help her size. Had tried dieting and exercise, but after spending all day standing up doing people’s hair, the last thing she wanted was to go to the gym.

She just liked food. Was that crime? And no, it wasn’t all junk food, though she wouldn’t mind another one of those decadent honey cream claws from the famousBear Claw Bakerythat was located right in the next town.

Serious yum.

Jessica had brought over half a dozen for her and the girls, but Elissa snuck the last two while the rest of them were polishing the bathroom fixtures. Darn her pregnancy-induced gluttony!

Oh well.

She’d probably needed it more than Gretchen did. Other than the occasional indulgence in sugary coated goodness, Gretchen stuck to grilled meats and fresh veggies for no other reason than because she liked them.

So there.

She wanted to stick her tongue out at all the judgmental people who assumed because she had some extra pounds, she must spend her time eating fast food and candy. The truth was, that sandwich Trigger had brought had been the first thing she’d eaten that she hadn’t cooked in a long while.

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