The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3) (4 page)

“Dad, I’ll go get my crayons and pencils.” Arabella runs up the stairs.

“She’s excited.” Maxima smiles.

“I told her we’d have a coloring party.”

Her smile drops, and her eyes grow sad. “Oh, okay.”

“Wait, Maxima, what is—”

“Hello.”

I’m cut off and turn to see Dacey Grion, Vance Pemberton’s fiancée. He’s another teammate of mine. “Am I early?” she asks in her thick Irish accent.

“No, I’m sorry I thought we had plans, but…” Maxima shrugs.

“Wait? What?” I glance between them.

‘You said you wanted to go out. Arabella has met Dacey several times when we go over to Harlow’s, and they get along,” Maxima explains.

“Maxima asked me to babysit tonight. Vance is out of town this week with his brothers.” Dacey smiles. “I’m free all night.”

“Dacey.” Arabella comes bounding down the stairs. I almost thought she might fly from the top. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…” she looks to Maxima for help.

“Maxima and I are going to dinner, and Dacey is nice enough to come over and watch you while we’re out,” I answer before Maxima can say something else. “Arabella, why don’t you take Dacey to the kitchen. I have the new coloring books on the table.”

Arabella grabs Dacey’s hand and drags her to the kitchen. When I glance at Maxima, she’s looking back at me.

“Listen, if you don’t want to—”

“Stop.” I cut her off. “I want us to go to dinner. You ran off this morning, and I figured you didn’t want to go with me.”

“Oh, no.” She’s wide eyed and shaking her head. “I…I…I was nervous.”

“Why?” I step closer to her. She smells like flowers.

“I’ve been here for a while now, and we pretty much keep away from each other.” She’s whispering.

“I’m sorry.” I want to tell her right then it’s my fault because I can’t think straight when she’s around me. “It’s my fault, but I’ll change now.” It’s not the whole truth.

“Nothing is your fault.” Maxima’s sad expression leaves, and she smiles. “I’ll get ready.” She lightly touches my arm as she passes me, headed toward the stairs.

My heart races at her touch, and I watch her swaying hips climb the stairs. I take a deep breath and follow her up to get ready.

I decide to go a bit semi-casual with dark jeans, a light blue button down, and a dark blue tie. I lace up my black boots and walk over to Maxima’s room. I knock softly and wait.

She opens her door, and my mouth drops. Her long, black shiny hair hangs around her shoulders in soft curls. She has on a long red cotton dress and a blue jean jacket.

“Remington, is this okay?” She tugs on her jacket. “I can change.”

She turns away, but I grab her hand, stopping her. “Please don’t change. You’re stunning.”

Her cheeks turn slightly pink. “Really?” She glances down at her dress. “It’s not too tight?”

Maxima usually wears bigger clothes. It’s like she’s hiding her beautiful curves. This dress shows them off.

“Maxima, you’re stunning,” I repeat and step up to her again, our bodies lightly touching. I know if I wrap my arms around her, she’ll fit perfectly.

“I’m ready when you are then.” She seems almost breathless.

“Let’s tell Arabella we’re leaving and go have an amazing date.” I lace our fingers together, and we head downstairs.

Hooked Seafood Restaurant seems like the perfect place for us. It’s not overly fancy, but the food is five-star. I hold Maxima’s chair as she gracefully sits. I held her hand the entire ride over, and it felt right. When she rubbed my knuckles with her thumb, shivers ran through me each time.

“People are staring,” Maxima whispers.

“Because they’re jealous that I’m with the best looking woman in the world,” I flirt and she looks through her lashes at me.

The waitress comes over, and I ask Maxima to order the wine. I’m more of a beer guy, but she’s knowledgeable, and I trust her.

“Red or white?”

“You pick.” I smile.

“Okay.” Her cheeks are pink again, and she orders a bottle of red.

When the waitress leaves, I pick up the menu and begin glancing over the items. The waitress comes back with our bottle, and we order our food. When we’re alone again, I realize I’m the one who’s nervous.

This is our first date.

I’m not counting Valentine’s Day because it was a disaster. This time, it’s going to be different.

“You know, we don’t know a lot about each other.” I sip from the wine glass. “Something we should change, don’t you think?”

She nods. “What do you want to know?”

I hear the anxiety in her voice. She’s so shy, but there are moments she’ll break away and she seems comfortable with me. “Everything.”

Chapter Three

Maxima

This dress is too tight. I should have changed; people are staring at my fat rolls. They’re all thinking:
Why is this fat girl with a hot, delicious man?
Their eyes are full of pity for Remington.

But we’re here, and he’s calling it a date. Then again, I’m not sure how to classify this dinner or our status. By all accounts, we’re engaged and a family. I’m sure he’s only taking me out for appearances.

Get to know me?

Must be custody issues. We should know a lot about each other, in case it comes up during the case.

“Well—” I take a drink of wine. “I graduated from Boston College with a business degree and a minor in international finance. I was sought after by a lot of big companies, but when I came to Manchester for a visit to Woods, Jackson, and Brooks, I fell in love with the city and took the job they offered.” That seems to sum it up nice and sweet.

“What else?”

“Oh, um, well,” I try to think of any details I left out. “If you haven’t figured it out, I’m quiet boring, and I’m a loner. Meadow and Harlow are the only friends I have.” I shrug, hoping he doesn’t ask anything else and doesn’t think I’m too pathetic.

“You’re not boring, Maxima.” He shakes his head. “I’m sure there’s much more than just that to you. You don’t have a New England accents, so where are you from?”

My heart races, and I place my shaking hands in my lap, hiding them from view. “Vegas. I’m originally from Las Vegas.”

Please don’t let me cry.

“Really? You never said before. What about your parents? Or siblings? I don’t think you ever mention family.”

Because I hate them all.

“I don’t have a family.” I look away from him and pray he doesn’t ask anything else on that topic.

“Oh, well, okay.” He sits a little taller, and I can feel his eyes on me. “You know about my parents, who you’ll meet soon. Plus my sister, Cora, and I’m hoping you two can meet when she’s on leave. I grew up in Washington DC; Dad worked for the Pentagon, Mom for JAG, and of course, Cora’s still in the Army. But I think I told you all this already.”

I smile at him. He told me a while ago about his family. They’re all very proud of each other and their accomplished careers.

“They all sound wonderful.”

“I really can’t wait for you to meet them all.”

“How did you meet Rickie?” I’m sure proper etiquette is not to bring up your date’s ex-wife, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.

“Young and dumb seems to be a simplistic answer, but it’s also an immature one. She was what some would consider a hockey groupie. I met her at a party thrown specifically for girls like her to meet players. We hooked up and exchanged numbers and continued seeing each other. I was twenty-one and had just signed a big contract. I thought she and I really had something. A few months later she told me she was pregnant and I married her. Then it all went to hell. She drained my bank account with designer clothes, cars, and jewelry. When Arabella came, I thought I was going to have to declare bankruptcy; instead, I divorced her and closed all my accounts. Then I found out about she was doing drugs and drinking around Arabella, and I began my fight for custody. And now here we are.”

I didn’t know the entire situation, but now I understand him better. I knew of Rickie’s kind. She’s more like
her
than I care to admit. I’m just glad Arabella has been removed from her care and is with Remington. I’ve really fallen for Arabella. She captured my heart the first day we met. Even when I look into Remington’s dark eyes, I know I could drown in them, easily giving him my heart.

This isn’t real love.

I need to remind myself of this. I can’t get too far into this. I won’t be able to pull myself out if I do.

“Have you ever been married or engaged before?” Remington asks.

“No.” Talking about my past relationships can be summed up quickly.

There are none.

“It’s probably rude to ask how many guys you’ve been with.”

How can I say it wasn’t willingly? “Probably.” I can barely hear myself.

Thankfully, our food comes then, and the conversation dies. I don’t want to talk about my past, sex, or anything of that nature. But I’m almost certain Remington will want to remain on these topics.

I can’t deal with it.

“Are there any foods you don’t like?” Food seems like a safe topic.

“I’m not a fan of mushrooms or peas.”

“Peas? I don’t think I’ve heard that one.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve never been picky.” I haven’t met a morsel of food that I don’t enjoy. “You can tell though.” I fake giggle.

“Why do you say negative things about yourself?” He sits his fork on the table and stares me down.

“I don’t look at myself negatively. I’m fat. I’m a fat girl. I love food, and I don’t know how to stop eating.” I can feel the anger bubbling up. The anger is there because I’m embarrassed. They seem to go hand-in-hand for me.

“I don’t like when you call yourself fat or fat girl.”

“But I am,” I state the obvious and even hold out my arms to show him.

“You’re not fat, Maxima.” His tone is gruff, but he drops the topic and moves on to the wine I picked out. Next is hockey and then his workout and training routines.

When we finish our food, we both decline desert, and Remington pays for the dinner. As we’re walking out, he holds my hand. Yes, it’s a small touch, but it’s something comfortable.

The ride home is peaceful. We don’t say anything, but there’s something soothing about it. I like when we’re quiet together.

Remington parks in the garage, shuts it off, but makes no move to get out. “Maxima, will you do me a favor? I know I ask a lot of you, but this one is personal for me.”

I turn in my seat and face him. “What is it?” I’m in the middle of his other favor and don’t know what else he would want from me.

“Please stop calling yourself fat. You’re a beautiful woman with a rocking body. I hate you look down on yourself. I’ve never met someone who has brains
and
beauty until I met you.”

I gaze down at my hands in my lap. He’s just trying to be nice. I know he doesn’t mean any of it. Or maybe I’m just annoying him? I bet that’s it.

“I’m tired.” I rush out of the car and head inside. I spot Dacey at the kitchen table, reading from her kindle.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“How was Arabella?” I ask, hearing Remington come up behind me.

“Great. I checked on her a little bit ago, and she’s fast asleep,” Dacey explains.

“Thanks, Dacey.” Remington walks around me and hands her some money, but she shakes her head.

“It’s fine. I don’t need money.” She picks up her kindle and purse.

“Dacey,” he says her name firmly.

She sighs and reluctantly takes the money from his hand, thanking him.

“I’ll walk you out,” I announce and head toward the front door. “Thanks again, Dacey.” I smile at her, opening the door.

“Anytime.” She nods, and I watch her go out to her car.

When I shut the door, I kick off my now uncomfortable heels. I turn, almost running into Remington’s chest.

“May we finish our discussion?”

“I’m tired,” I lie. “I’m going to bed.” I rush past him and jog up the stairs to my room.

My current mood does not include discussing my perceptions of me.

Caryn stares at me as I continue to pace her office. She calls my pacing a tick. Whenever I’m over anxious or need to think something through, pacing helps me. Plus, I talk more when I pace.

“Because he asked you to look at yourself differently, you ran away?” Caryn asks.

“Pretty much.” I walk around the couch again. “He only went out to dinner with me to show people we’re a couple. He doesn’t love me.” I push my hand through my hair.

“He likes you though.”

I stop. “No, he does not. I’m convenient for him.”

“Maxima.” Caryn shakes her head. “You really do look negatively on yourself.”

“No, I don’t,” I almost shout. “I look in the mirror and see how fat I am. I know how much I love food, plus I’m an emotional eater. I know I can’t control my portions, even though I try to, and sometimes I win the battle. These are the facts. Plain, true facts.” I stomp my foot, as if it will help propel my point across.

“Calm down, Maxima.” Caryn’s tone softens. “Tell me what else you see when you look in the mirror.”

“Nothing,” I answer. “I see nothing else.”

“I can tell you’re lying.”

I stop pacing again and sit back down on the couch. “I see a fool.”

She’s quiet, and it means she wants me to go on, but she doesn’t want to verbally push me to talk.

“Part of me hopes Remington will fall in love with me. I thought with us living together, and me playing housewife and mother, he would see what a good person I am.” I close my eyes, praying the tears don’t fall. “The worst part is I’m really excited when I go to his house. I love how he cooks and they’re waiting for me to eat dinner as a family. I’m falling in love with a sham, and when I do leave, it’ll hurt so badly. I’ve grown attached to Arabella. You know I’d always hoped for a family and kids.” I open my eyes, but I don’t look at her, just the floor.

“Maxima, you will get everything you want. You’re smart, strong, and good-hearted.”

I nod, even though I know she’s just trying to be nice.

Spin class?

I send a group text to Harlow and Meadow. I need to work off some of this excess anxiousness built up in my veins.

I’m in.
Harlow answers first.

Sure.
Meadow is next, and I smile because I know she hates spinning, but comes whenever I ask.

I call Jackson, my boss, and let him know I’ll be taking a personal day. He doesn’t sound happy, but I don’t care. There’s no point in going back to work; I had to leave early to take Arabella shopping for her dance outfits. I received the list of items she needs yesterday, and she’ll start tomorrow.

I drive back to the house to change and grab my gym bag. But when I open my closet door all my clothes are gone. I look around my room and everything seems to be gone.