04

« He owns Cali Body, the gym chain, » Sidney muttered in my ear without an attempt at subtlety. As a food and lifestyle columnist at the local paper, Sidney Cheng knew everyone in the Cobalt Bay social scene.

I smiled up at Brax whose name I immediately judged to be as ridiculous as the size of his pecs, but made no move to take the drink he offered or budge from the lounger where I was practically draped in nothing more than a short, black, lacy slip of a dress. I knew I looked like a serving of generous curves and long, luscious legs but I dressed however I liked and most of the time that meant little fabric. I was resigned to the fact that there was no point in trying to cover up all the time. I could be wearing a sack and I would still get called out for being indecent.

If I’m going to get crucified anyway, I might as well enjoy sinning.

« Thanks but I have a personal policy against taking open drinks from strangers, » I said, tipping him a small smile. That was as generous as I’d get with him tonight.

He took that refusal in stride. « We don’t have to be strangers for very long. Give me five minutes and I can fix that. »

I raised my brow at the audacity. « That quick, huh ? I’m surprised you think it’s supposed to tempt women. »

« That’s not what I meant, » he countered, flushing and slightly disgruntled. « I last longer than that. »

« Hmm. A get-to-know-you that’s longer than five minutes, » I mused. « That’ll make any woman feel special. »

Brax frowned at me for a second. « You’re talking circles around me. »

I smiled and picked up my own drink for a sip. « Yeah. I was bored and you were presumptuous. »

Unfortunately, instead of pissing him off, he smiled and found it amusing. « Phew ! I was warned you can be difficult with men. »

True or not, I didn’t care for it.

« Difficult is what men would call women who don’t snap to attention at their mere presence, » I said. « But don’t let me ruin the lie for you. »

« He’s not hard on the eyes, Kady, » Sidney mumbled with a gentle nudge of his elbow to my side. He usually enjoyed watching a slow-motion train wreck but he’s got an agenda tonight.

Brax glanced at him in irritation. Clearly, he hated having an audience to his rejection. Even his pals behind him were trying not to snicker.

« Fine. Maybe we can talk business if that’s more your style, » he said, straightening himself back to dignity. « I was thinking we can explore the opportunity of you representing my brand. »

I wasn’t really that piqued as Brax might have hoped.

Why ? Because most people who wanted me associated with their company did so for two main reasons—my body and my reputation.

I do a lot of things both as a passion and profession but I mostly model lingerie—the really sexy kind. I wasn’t tall or skinny enough for catwalk or editorial but I had all the right curves to make very pricey scraps of fabric look even more seductive. ‘Voluptuous’, as described by most people I worked with, still had a market.

I didn’t mind it. It paid well and mostly tolerated all the body issues I’d struggled with for years—big boobs, big hips, big butt, big thighs. It wasn’t because they realized the wrongness of measuring a woman’s worth by her dress size. It was because they found a way to make money out of it.

Do I have a problem with that ? Sure, I do, in some amount.

But at the same time, I reasoned with myself that since people were going to say shit about my body anyway whether I put it on print or not, I might as well get paid for it.

It was a more-than-decent income and a good slap in the face for anyone who doomed me with what I couldn’t change. With time, it became easier to tune those people out and feel good about the very thing that’s made me feel inadequate for years. And I haven’t really looked back.

Nowadays, whether I was in just a thong, a bikini or a pair of designer jeans, my body appeared in billboards and magazine spreads. Even in the occasional exhibit by some prominent photographers. My figure was always a draw, but my features, thanks to my mutt-like mixed heritage, apparently made for an interesting and exotic combination. I was told I looked like a lot of different people but also like no one else.

And that wasn’t a far cry from the truth because I looked nothing like the family I know, which is a total of one person—my adoptive mother.

All she could tell me was that my biological mother, who had been her costume-designer at one point, was of African-American and Spanish heritage while my father was from the Middle East. I ended up with very curly, brown-black hair which I kept short and loose. My skin was a deep, warm brown, and my face featured big, deep-set, amber-colored eyes, a prominent nose only softened by the slight upturn at the tip of it, sharp cheekbones, and full lips that sported the much-coveted just-bitten look.

So if you add all that to a bombshell body and a notorious reputation for being a wild, untameable party girl with a rebellious history, you’ve got yourself a vixen.

Yes. I just grouped all those adjectives into one sentence. Maybe it’s too much but ‘too much’ is a common reference to me as well so there you go. That should give you a fairly good idea of what made me such a bestseller for brands who wanted to sell sex and sin.

« I don’t work out at your gym and I don’t want to lie about that, » I said coolly, remembering the advice, Ellen, my agency manager, told me about trying not to piss off potential clients. « Besides, the most I do is swim and beat up a punching bag. I like to leave a little bit of cellulite on. Can’t lie about that either. »

Brax took his damn time appraising my figure from head to toe, clearly liking the inventory, not that I’ve met a man who hadn’t. And the cellulite isn’t exactly on display so he probably doesn’t believe me. « Can’t believe that’s all it takes for all of that. You sure that’s all you do to work up some sweat ? »

I rolled my eyes, finally straightening up to a sitting position. « Alright. That’s enough. I’m no Merriam-Webster but business is not synonymous to banging so go take your baby trunk arms and leave now. »

Brax snorted out a laugh. « Oh, come on. You can’t seriously be offended by that. »

My eyes narrowed into slits. « You’re right. That doesn’t offend me. Your mere existence does. So leave, gym boy, before I make you. »

The smile on his face wilted a little as he studied me warily. « You’re really not… you know… thinking that—« 

« She won’t set your crotch on fire ? » Sidney supplied cheerfully. « Cut you with a broken glass ? Break your jaw with an ashtray ? »

I groaned even though I enjoyed the sight of Brax paling a little as he looked at me.

« I’ve heard some things but… he’s just exaggerating, right ? »

I gave him my mysterious smile. « Only one way to find out. »

« They’re all true so I would run for the hills if I were you, » a woman said behind Brax. He stepped aside and we all found ourselves watching Rachel saunter in, wearing huge celebrity sunglasses in this awful lighting and swinging around a Chloe bag that was almost as big as her entire torso.

« Unless you’re a guy who likes a challenge, » Sidney added in haste. He’d been at me all night, trying to convince me to get laid because he thinks everyone deserved sex on their birthday. I told him, if I won’t even blow candles on my birthday, there was no way I was blowing anything else.

« There’s a challenge and there’s crazy, » Rachel butted in as she plopped down on one side of the lounger. « This one here’s crazy and no guy’s really up for that. »

« Thanks for the compliment, » I grated at her. « Your good opinion of me is making me tear up a little. »