Read Online A Sweet Possibility (Archer Cove Series Book 2) by Natalie Charles - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natalie Charles
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thought as she admired it in the full-length mirror. She'd never worn anything like it before. She began to zip up the back. Then the zipper resisted. She froze.
The dress was too tight.
"No," she whispered, and tried again. Sure enough, the zipper wouldn't budge.
She held her breath and sucked in her gut. She tried pressing the layer of fat on her back down and sliding the zipper over it. Nothing. Nada. Her gorgeous, custom-made dress didn't fit. "Damn it."
Jessie considered her shape in the mirror. Custom-made. The dressmaker had taken her measurements, what? Three months ago? And since then, she'd enlarged to the point she no longer fit in the dress. It was enough to make her want to stuff a truffle in her face.
Which may have been the reason she was in that mess to begin with.
She carefully peeled the dress off her form and told herself not to cry. This was not something to cry over. She could return it for a larger size. But then, oh right — it had been custom-made to fit her perfectly. Just...damn it.
She pulled on the pair of gray sweatpants she'd been favoring lately, realizing with a sinking feeling that she'd been wearing them because they were so roomy and forgiving. Then she ran to the bathroom. Her scale was lodged behind the toilet, the space issue being what it was. She could practically sit on the toilet and shower at the same time, and it wasn't like she needed to weigh herself daily. Though perhaps more often...
She stepped onto the scale and frowned at the number. No, the dial must be off. She stepped down again and checked. The dial wasn't off. By the pastry-loving lips of Saint Elizabeth. She'd gained fifteen pounds.
All right. No problem. This was not a problem. Still, Jessie bit her lower lip to keep from crying as she walked back into the kitchen and retrieved the magnetic calendar from her refrigerator. Desperate times called for plans, that was all. She traced the dry-erase marker across the weeks. It was mid-May and the wedding wasn't until the middle of August, so if she lost three pounds a week on average, then she would be fitting into that dress by July. Perfect.
Jessie set the calendar back on the refrigerator, but it didn't take long for the sense of victory to wear off. Three pounds a week. Her job was to create chocolates. She experimented with recipes. She basically made a living eating chocolate. Though perhaps she could take smaller bites.
Her heart was heavy as she slumped into the chair before the fireplace. Then it hit her. This could be the change she was looking for: she could slim down, but why stop there? If Jessie wanted to actually feel good about her life, then major changes were in order.
She grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and went to work, furiously detailing all of her faults. She was a little flighty, that was for sure. She still blushed as she remembered her speech at the baby shower on Sunday. How could she expect herself to be the kind of person Quinn would love if she acted so irresponsibly? Must think more before speaking. Or acting.
And what else? She tapped her pen against her lips. She worked hard at the bakery, and enjoyed what she did, and frankly she didn't see the need to strike out on her own. Perhaps, though, this was unambitious of her? Jessie frowned at the paper as she wrote, Be more ambitious. The thought of leaving Hedda's sent her pulse racing. Being out on her own, without Uncle Hank? What would she do without him?
She swallowed and set down her hand again to write, Be fearless. Underlined it twice.
By the end of the evening, Jessie had carefully considered all of her flaws. Fortunately, she had also decided how to fix them. Satisfied, she pulled a blanket over herself and settled back against the couch, where she soon fell asleep.
T he text from Jessie read , "Emergency. Pizza. Meme's." Like he was some kind of mind reader.
Except Nate knew exactly what she'd meant, and he'd dropped everything, gotten in his car, and driven to the
The dress was too tight.
"No," she whispered, and tried again. Sure enough, the zipper wouldn't budge.
She held her breath and sucked in her gut. She tried pressing the layer of fat on her back down and sliding the zipper over it. Nothing. Nada. Her gorgeous, custom-made dress didn't fit. "Damn it."
Jessie considered her shape in the mirror. Custom-made. The dressmaker had taken her measurements, what? Three months ago? And since then, she'd enlarged to the point she no longer fit in the dress. It was enough to make her want to stuff a truffle in her face.
Which may have been the reason she was in that mess to begin with.
She carefully peeled the dress off her form and told herself not to cry. This was not something to cry over. She could return it for a larger size. But then, oh right — it had been custom-made to fit her perfectly. Just...damn it.
She pulled on the pair of gray sweatpants she'd been favoring lately, realizing with a sinking feeling that she'd been wearing them because they were so roomy and forgiving. Then she ran to the bathroom. Her scale was lodged behind the toilet, the space issue being what it was. She could practically sit on the toilet and shower at the same time, and it wasn't like she needed to weigh herself daily. Though perhaps more often...
She stepped onto the scale and frowned at the number. No, the dial must be off. She stepped down again and checked. The dial wasn't off. By the pastry-loving lips of Saint Elizabeth. She'd gained fifteen pounds.
All right. No problem. This was not a problem. Still, Jessie bit her lower lip to keep from crying as she walked back into the kitchen and retrieved the magnetic calendar from her refrigerator. Desperate times called for plans, that was all. She traced the dry-erase marker across the weeks. It was mid-May and the wedding wasn't until the middle of August, so if she lost three pounds a week on average, then she would be fitting into that dress by July. Perfect.
Jessie set the calendar back on the refrigerator, but it didn't take long for the sense of victory to wear off. Three pounds a week. Her job was to create chocolates. She experimented with recipes. She basically made a living eating chocolate. Though perhaps she could take smaller bites.
Her heart was heavy as she slumped into the chair before the fireplace. Then it hit her. This could be the change she was looking for: she could slim down, but why stop there? If Jessie wanted to actually feel good about her life, then major changes were in order.
She grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and went to work, furiously detailing all of her faults. She was a little flighty, that was for sure. She still blushed as she remembered her speech at the baby shower on Sunday. How could she expect herself to be the kind of person Quinn would love if she acted so irresponsibly? Must think more before speaking. Or acting.
And what else? She tapped her pen against her lips. She worked hard at the bakery, and enjoyed what she did, and frankly she didn't see the need to strike out on her own. Perhaps, though, this was unambitious of her? Jessie frowned at the paper as she wrote, Be more ambitious. The thought of leaving Hedda's sent her pulse racing. Being out on her own, without Uncle Hank? What would she do without him?
She swallowed and set down her hand again to write, Be fearless. Underlined it twice.
By the end of the evening, Jessie had carefully considered all of her flaws. Fortunately, she had also decided how to fix them. Satisfied, she pulled a blanket over herself and settled back against the couch, where she soon fell asleep.
T he text from Jessie read , "Emergency. Pizza. Meme's." Like he was some kind of mind reader.
Except Nate knew exactly what she'd meant, and he'd dropped everything, gotten in his car, and driven to the
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