Page 27 of Minted
“Will she do it?”
“Probably not,” I say. “First date—she’ll want to wear something slinky that shows how thin she is.”
“You’d never do that.”
His words hit like softballs, lobbed at my tender parts. “Rude.”
“What?” He looks horrified. “How was that rude?”
“I’d never wear something slinky, because I can’t show off how thin I am?”
Bentley slams on the brakes and pulls off on the side of the road. Then he turns toward me, his eyes wide. “Barbara, please tell me you’re kidding.”
I’m looking up so the tears that are threatening can’t ruin my makeup.
“I meant that you’d never dress up on the first date to try and make sure the guy was distracted by how hot you looked.”
That pisses me off more. “What do you think I did on the very first date we ever had?”
“What?”
“When you were being set up with Seren, and I was supposed to be set up with Dave, and clearly those two liked each other, I was dressed up in my nicest dress, and I was trying to look as hot as I could. Every girl does that, even forgettable ones like me.”
“Forgettable?” He swallows. “Look, you are not forgettable. And I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you, not in any way.” He exhales. “I guess that just comes naturally.”
And now I’m laughing. “You sound just like my dad always did.”
“Well, at least I’m in good company.” He tilts his head. “But Barbara, you are thin and beautiful.”
I snort.
“You’re not, like, chives, but some guys like women who have curves—you’re like edamame beans.”
Is he really comparing me to vegetables? “That’s just a nice way to say that some men don’t mind when women are fat.”
He’s not laughing now. He looks entirely serious. “Men shouldn’t mind when women are fat—society makes fat into this four letter word that it shouldn’t be. But even so, that’s not at all what I’m saying.”
“Bentley—”
“No.” He turns back toward the road, and then his hands grip the steering wheel tightly. “Have you ever met my mother?”
I shake my head.
“All her friends look like skeletons you might set on your porch for Halloween, and it always made her feel horrible. But she’s curvy, and my dad loves her for it.”
I blink.
“Those skeleton women. . . It’s unhealthy. Mom has always felt guilty when she even looks at food, and I don’t want anything to do with it.” He turns back toward me. “You had a very hard year, so you probably feel bad about gaining some weight, but you should listen to this next part.”
It’s too late. I’m already crying.
“You are every bit as beautiful today as you were when we met back on that ill-advised setup. Do you hear me?” He’s staring at me.
I nod and swipe at my cheeks.
“You look like you don’t believe me, so I’m going to take a photo whenever I think about it tonight. And then I’m going to send them to you, and you’re going to realize that you look stunning.”
“Bentley, do not do that.”
