The Girl With The Curves #1 (Positive Curves, #1)

The Girl With The Curves #1

Positive Curves, Volume 1

by Iris Deorre

Published by Iris Deorre, 2013.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE GIRL WITH THE CURVES #1

First edition. December 29, 2013.

Copyright © 2013 Iris Deorre.

Written by Iris Deorre.

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

The Girl With The Curves #1 (Positive Curves, #1)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

‘Miss, the hippo should go first,’ a girl shouted from the back of the class and there was a wave of laughter across the room.

‘Hush now class, we will not speak about anyone that way.’

But Harley knew exactly who they meant. Hippo, big butt, podgy were the kinder names she’d been accustomed to. It had been the standing joke, the day she’d been asked to stand on the scale. Awful noises travelled through the classroom as if it were a farmhouse. It had been an awful few years and when Harley had finally made it into one of the top universities to study English Literature, it had been a relief, or so she thought.

To be honest, Harley wasn’t that big but she wasn’t small either. Jeans clung to her shapely hips like a glove. The shape of an hourglass would be the perfect description of Harleys shape. Perhaps a little exaggerated at the bottom but unsurprising. It was her heritage, it was the card she’d been dealt and Harley had never thought that there was anything particularly wrong with her body until the teen years had hit.

‘You look like Alek Wek.’ Had been some of the comments during the varsity years.

‘I’m a size fourteen,’ she’d respond and nothing else.

It had become her defence mechanism. If it wasn’t the size of her behind it was the beautiful dark chocolate skin that drew the attention. Harley worked hard and hardly spoke to many people. Not because she couldn’t make friends, but because it took too much of an effort to try. It had been a lonely journey through high school; Harley Moyer had hardly expected it to be any different until she met Amber.

Amber should’ve have been named Rose or Cherry to represent her dangerous character. Amber was what many would call yellow or another word caramel but that hardly ever came in the way of their friendship. They’d spent so much time together that they soon became inseparable. It was like they’d been joined at the hip, where there was Harley, Amber was never too far away. Amber had become the confidence Harley needed. The days of hiding in shame were soon of the past and a new found confidence had been born.

Graduation came and went and soon it was time to hit the real world. It had been a blow to the head. Life on the outside wasn’t any better, in fact it was worse. It had taken Harley twenty job applications and eight interviews before she landed the job, even though she’d graduated top of her class. Life just wasn’t fair, nor was it equal in her eyes. Life had dealt her a heavy hand even though she’d worked hard to get to where she was. But when she landed the job at The Forrest Evening Post everything changed.

There had been the applications; more than two hundred graduates had applied for the junior journalist position. The job entailed that applicants include a passport size picture of themselves. Harley had almost let that one slip, even though her confidence was on an upward climb it hadn’t quite reached its peek. But it had been Amber who had pushed it.

‘You’ll be great for the job,’ she’d said. ‘You’re the best.’

‘Easy for you to say, you have a job.’

‘Don’t use that excuse. It’s got nothing to do with looks.’

‘Oh yes it does and just because I’m not a size zero, my chances are slim.’

‘Apply anyway. If it doesn’t happen, it isn’t meant for you.’

It had taken Harley a while to do it but in the end she’d thrown doubt to the wind and had taken the jump.

The applications had been weeded down to fifty candidates which to Harley’s surprise she’d been one of them. All fifty candidates were invited to the company to take a test. And that test had finally weeded it down to three candidates.

‘You see,’ Amber had said. ‘This one is yours baby.’

Harley could hardly believe her luck, was the wheel of luck changing, was someone looking down on her, guiding things along. On the day of the interview Harley had chosen her grey suit. Pink shirt with exaggerated collar, grey waistcoat, grey jacket and grey skirt, she was set to go. She walked into the building with a slight spring in her step, victory was so close and yet so far but getting that far was enough to make her feel proud.

Harley was directed to the sixth floor and as soon as her charcoal heels hit the sixth floor her heart sunk. There she was, the high school nightmare. She had the same long healthy blond hair, legs so long that didn’t seem to get wider the higher up they went. Blue eyes, sharp nose and a face of an angel. The girl who had won the genetic lottery many times over.

‘Don’t buy into that, it’s just the media that has portrayed this type of woman.
’ Harley could hear Amber’s voice in the back of her head.
‘You’re beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’
The voice got fainter the closer she got to the woman.

The woman looked up at her and smiled only slightly, Harley smiled. There was a nervous guy on the opposite side who was obviously annoying the blonde goddess. The huff that came out of her nostrils was almost enough to blow fire out of them if that were possible.

Harley made herself comfortable besides nervous guy and just then a woman walked out and screeched for the blonde woman.

‘Angelina Stone?’

‘That’s me.’ Angelina waved her hand only using the top of her fingers. She picked up the fancy case and modelled her way into the interview room.

‘Harley,’ Harley introduced herself to the nervous guy who was sweating profusely.

Sweat patches had begun to form under his arms and beads of sweat patterned his forehead.

‘Thomas,’ he heaved like a sprinter out of breath.

‘Let me guess, top of your class?’

He nodded and quickly reached for an inhaler. After two drags he asked the same.

‘Yep.’ Harley liked him despite the heavy sweating. ‘You know we won’t get this job.’ Harley added.

‘I figured that out when I saw that beautiful blonde walk through the door.’

Harley nodded. Whether society accepted it or not, looks played a big part in the selection process.

‘Congratulations for getting this far,’ said Harley.

‘Yeah, you too.’

‘At least I can go home proud.’ She tried to make herself feel better but her heart had already given up.

They sat in comfortable silence except for the heavy breathing between them. After thirty minutes had passed the leggy blonde walked by as if she were on a runway not giving any of them a second glance. Harley sighed, it was obvious, the next step was just protocol. The company had obviously made their choice.

Thomas was called in next. He looked at Harley and her heart bled. All she could think about were the days when the school nurse would arrive to take their weight. The times Harley had taken a note home that suggested her Mother look into seeking a dietician, she had felt like that all over again.

Harley waited impatiently. Nerves scurried up and down her body adjusting the pace of her heart, tightening her stomach and restricting her throat. It was a nightmare wide awake. A walking living nightmare! Twenty minutes later Thomas walked out looking like he’d just come stepped out of a wrestling ring as the looser. Rosy cheeks, heavy breathing he walked past Harley as quickly as possible. This only sent her heart speeding and crashing up against the wall of her chest.

‘Harley Moyer, they’ll see you next.’

Harley swallowed back hard, shut her eyes and said a quick prayer. Anything for comfort would do just fine. Harley took bold confident steps like a lioness in a jungle even though deep down a mouse was a more appropriate simile. The tiny secretary pushed open a door and nodded Harley into the room of three men in dark suits. The lioness had disappeared and had become a deer surrounded by three hyenas. But as she looked up and adjusted her shoulders and took back the role of jungle queen, even though it was pretence one man caught her eye.

Harley wasn’t one to go jelly at the knees; her head was always on the ground that such gorgeousness evaded her.  The man in the middle sat back and observed the woman who’d just walked in. He had jet black hair, soft grey eyes, a sharp edged nose. One could tell that height was one of his strong features just by looking at his long limbs.

‘Please have a seat Miss Moyer.’ His voice travelled like a warm breeze over her skin.

Everything about him made her body tingle, made the heat rise to the surface of her beautiful ebony skin. No one had ever commanded such feelings from her body ever.

‘I’m Sebastian Forrest majority share holder and managing director of Forrest Evening post.’

Harley nodded.

‘To my right is Timothy Elkhart, part shareholder and chairman and to my left is Gavin Porter my right hand man.’

Both men nodded. Timothy was grey and was probably nearing retirement, Gavin looked late thirties and Sebastian early forties. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off her. It had been his persistence to keep putting her through. Not only was she brilliant and good at what she did, there was something interestingly different about her. Sebastian liked different.

The interview had been tough, the men fired questions at her and at times Harley would loose her footing but never for too long. She was going to fight, the man in the middle was worth the fight and there was something between them both parties had picked up on. But that had been a big misconception; things weren’t as they seemed. It wasn’t fireworks that flew between them or maybe it was but the day Harley landed the job – which came as a surprise because instead of one post, Forest Evening post had decided to create a second post which allowed her to be their second choice – she soon discovered what it meant to hate the sexiest man she’d ever met. Mr Sebastian Forrest would soon become her worst nightmare!

Chapter Two

Cheese, grapes, crackers and After Eights had been placed artistically on a wooden board. Susannah Forrest popped another grape into her mouth as she gazed at the crackling fire. Sebastian walked in, pulling loose his tie and swinging the suit jacket across one of the very expensive Victorian chairs.

‘Must you litter our living space with your clothes?’

‘I don’t see why it bothers you, it isn’t like any of your manicured fingers will ever do a hard days work.’

‘That’s besides the point Sebastian.’ Susannah picked up another grape and slotted it past her ruby lips.

Sebastian studied his wife of twenty years. Her long milky limbs stretched out across the white Victorian settee. Her dark hair flowed past her shoulders to mid back. It was thick and glossy and had been kept by a hairdresser named Eva since the first day a curl rooted out of her tiny head.

He walked over to the table that sat at the end of the room and poured a glass of scotch. It was a welcomed taste, the day had been hectic as usual and the home front wasn’t any less of a battlefield.

‘So have you slept with the new graduate yet, touched her bum?’

He took another gulp of the strong drink and watched her carefully. Susannah had been especially handpicked by his mother. His father called it breeding.

‘We must marry within the same class,’ he’d said.

At the time it had meant absolutely nothing to him, he was young and Sebastian couldn’t keep his dick in his pants even if they paid him too. Class was just a word, something his father tried to preserve but as the years went on it was proving very difficult. His sister for one had run off with a vagabond, words according to his father.

‘We don’t use such words father.’ Sebastian had said but it had fallen on deaf ears.

‘What do you care if I have or I haven’t?’ He took another swig of the drink.

Susannah focused her cyan blue eyes on her husband. He paced two and fro in front of the fire, taking sips of the scotch.

‘I don’t, but your father does. Your penis has got this family into more trouble than we’d wish to remember.’

‘My penis is none of your business.’

‘You listen to me, what you do is my business and before you go dipping your pen into a new whores ink, I suggest you think very carefully what you’re doing to the company.’

‘My my, such venom from such pretty lips.’ Sometimes he wondered if his wife was the spawn of Satan.