Chapter 1

2994 Words
Chapter 1“Are you really going to wear that?” Vicky had spent the last two hours getting ready to go out. She’s scrubbed down and shaved herself smooth in the bathroom, careful to be thorough. She’s dried and styled her hair just right, letting her auburn locks fall in dreamy curls over her shoulders. She’d done her makeup carefully, making sure everything was tasteful and modest. And then she’d slipped into the little dress she’d bought just for that night. It was an arresting emerald green color, the straps sitting low on her shoulders and plunging downward to create a low neckline. Tied off beneath the bust with a bow of the same color, it highlighted her curves in all the best ways. Big breasts, big hips, big butt, and curvy thighs. The skirt fell midway down her knees and billowed out beneath layers of tulle. It made her feel cute and attractive, but Peter didn’t seem to agree. “I bought it for tonight. Don’t you like it?” Peter looked her over with a critical eye, his lips pursed tightly together. “You shouldn’t wear something so short and tight,” he said stiffly. “I can see how fat your thighs are like that. Have you even been sticking to the diet we agreed upon?” The words stung. Vicky turned away from the full length mirror in the bedroom they shared to look at him. Peter was seated upon the bed, already dressed in black slacks and a button down shirt. He was tall and scrawny and never had to worry about his weight; Vicky watched him eat nothing but junk food all day and yet he never seemed to gain a pound. “I have,” she insisted. “It’s not really doing much, is it?” Peter said. He shook his head and stood. “Whatever. We’re already running late as it is, and if I had to wait for you to change into something that would do a better job at hiding your body we’d lose our reservation. Come on. Let’s go.” If Vicky hadn’t spent so long perfecting her makeup she might have shed a few silent tears at the attack, but she’d worked too hard to ruin her face now. Instead she swallowed and held back her emotions, trying to soften the blow. Peter only wanted her to look the best she could. He deserved a girl who was skinny and pretty, and he believed in her and how beautiful she could be once she lost weight. Once she was skinnier he wouldn’t have to be mean to her anymore. Together they left the small apartment they shared and walked through the downtown streets. Night had fallen long ago, but the restaurant patios and store windows were lit up and welcoming. The air had cooled considerably since that afternoon, and although she didn’t need a jacket, Vicky found it fresh. Fall was on its way; she could almost taste it on the air. The Ambrogio was busy despite the advanced hour. The patio that spilled forth onto the downtown sidewalk was crowded. People came from miles around to see for themselves what the city’s finest Italian restaurant had to offer, and Vicky knew firsthand how difficult it was to get a reservation. She’d called three months in advance to book a table, and even then the only time slot they had available was at half past nine. It was lucky they’d gotten in at all. The struggle was worth it; tonight was her second anniversary with Peter, and he deserved all of her effort. Not many guys wasted their time with a curvy girl, and Vicky found herself constantly needing to prove to him just how grateful she was he’d agreed to look past her weight. The inside of the restaurant was just as crowded as the outside. Waiters and waitresses milled to and fro, weaving around each other as they served food and drink alike. The hostess at the podium looked unfazed by the rush and smiled at them as they entered. “Welcome to the Ambrogio. Do you have a reservation?” “Yes,” Peter said. “Under Vicky Wilde.” The hostess flipped through her reservation book, searching for confirmation. As she did, Vicky took a look around the restaurant. The lighting was dim and romantic. The tables were small and crammed close together to maximize floor space, but that was the only flaw to an otherwise beautiful atmosphere. Candles in beautiful glass dishes lit each table. The design was rustic but elegant. White strings of lights were woven through a latticework that stretched across the ceiling, vaguely mimicking grapevines. Tens of different soft conversations melded together to bathe the place in a dull roar of activity. The waiters and waitresses who tended to the tables were tall and slender, all of them beautiful. Vicky felt like she didn’t belong here, and yet she never wanted to leave. “Oh, right. Table for two at half past nine. Let me show you two to your seats.” And just like that they were off, picking their way through the crowded aisles to a table near the back corner of the establishment. The walls there were set with wine racks, and the dark necks of bottles with white and red seals glimmered beneath the flickering candle light. The waitress set two menus down upon a small wooden table, candles already flickering and lively in their glass jars, and moved a little further down to give them room to sit. “Your server, Jessica, will be right with you. Enjoy your evening with us.” Peter sat himself in the nearest chair and picked up the wine menu right away as Vicky squeezed past him and tucked herself into her seat. It was a tight fit; the woman who sat behind her had her chair pushed out, leaving little space for Vicky to maneuver. Already aware of how curvy she was, Vicky felt especially vulnerable as she tucked herself in as close as she could to the table. “See, if you had a body like that hostess,” Peter told her amongst the thrum of conversation, “you’d be the hottest one in this place. Guys wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off of you. Imagine how proud I’d be to be with you then.” “Right,” she mumbled, picking up one of the menus to leaf through it. The distraction was welcome; Peter was being particularly mean tonight. Vicky had done her best to dress up for him, and still it wasn’t enough. The waitress arrived. “Welcome to the Ambrogio. Can I start you two off with drinks and appetizers?” There was beautiful depth to her voice, and Vicky looked up in surprise. The waitress, Jessica, was just as stunning as she sounded. Lush black tresses were tied up and away from her face to reveal bone structure a model would be jealous of. Warm brown eyes looked between them, then settled on Peter. She was slender, but the curve of her hips added interest to her figure. All of it was wrapped up in a tiny contouring black dress that almost exposed her ass. Black heels just tall enough to get the job done leant her just a bit more height. As stunning as Vicky found her, Peter was even more struck. He could not stop devouring her with his eyes. “I’ll have a glass of the Ghillo pinot noir. She’ll have water.” Peter’s eyes traced Jessica’s hips and then rose to her breasts. Now that Vicky had set the menu down she could see him ogle the waitress clearly. Disgust and betrayal turned her stomach — Peter was supposed to be here with her to celebrate their anniversary, not so that he could ogle other women. And to Vicky’s horror, Jessica was making eyes right back. “Of course. Is there anything else I can get you?” “A plate of oysters as an appetizer, then she’s going to have the house salad, no dressing, as an entree, and I’ll take the chicken parmesan.” It was a special night out, and probably the only chance Vicky had to try out the Ambrogio; eating a salad wasn’t what she’d had in mind. But even as she opened her mouth to protest, the waitress spoke over her. “Excellent choices. I’ll be right back with your drinks, oysters, and complementary bread basket with oil dip. If there’s anything you need, please let me or one of my coworkers know.” “Thank you,” Peter said. Jessica winked at him, then left. Until she was out of eyeshot, Peter watched her go. “What... What are you doing?” Vicky asked. She wasn’t the type of girl to get angry or loud, but since the night had begun Peter had been mistreating her. Ogling another girl right in front of her was a low blow. “Making sure you don’t overeat,” Peter said simply. When she spoke he turned back around to look at her, dark brown eyes on her blues. “You said you’d diet for me, so you should be on board with a salad.” That much was true — Vicky had said she’d diet. But what gave Peter the right to order for her like he had? The betrayal stung, and as the night went on things only got worse. By the time the candles had burned into little more than puddles of wax, it was clear to her that Peter had more than a friendly interest in Jessica. Every time she stopped by he flirted with her and treated Vicky as if she were invisible. This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go. The meal done, three glasses of wine drained by Peter alone, Jessica brought them the bill and slid it across the table to Peter. “If you need to use debit or credit, let me know and I’ll bring the machine,” she told him with a wink. Peter shook his head, picked up the bill, and passed it across the table to Vicky. “She’s paying tonight.” A look of discomfort flashed across Jessica’s face. Vicky took the bill from Peter and looked it over. Across the top in large print was a phone number with Jessica’s name written beneath it. Vicky looked up from the receipt at their waitress, bit down on her bottom lip, and then stood abruptly. There was no doubt in her mind that if Peter had seen the phone number, he would have called her. He would have cheated on her with this beautiful, sultry woman. How could she compete? Pain welled inside and drowned her confidence. Vicky dropped the receipt upon the table. “The only thing I’m paying for tonight is a cab across town. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.” Through the tears that had begun to obscure her vision, Vicky thought she was Jessica smirk. Peter had been nothing but cruel to her since they’d started dating, and time had only made him worse. If he wanted to date a skinny girl, then Jessica could have him. “Are you seriously going to pull this s**t?” Peter asked with a sigh. The response was all Vicky needed to validate her decision — Peter didn’t care that she was upset at all. All that he cared about was himself and the trouble she brought into his life. Without another word, Vicky pushed her way through the restaurant and out the front door. The night air she’d once found so refreshing now bit at her, and the unfallen tears in her eyes chilled. Peter hadn’t followed her; he hadn’t even called after her. For two years she’d been doing her best to make him happy, doing her best to become the person he wanted her to be, and after all of the effot he didn’t care about her at all. The railings containing the patio were woven with the same bright white lights that stretched across the latticework inside the restaurant. Through the tears the lights softened and bled, and she thought they looked somewhat like illuminated dandelions ready to release their seeds. Vicky wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. The patio was still busy, but the fresh air that filled her lungs was soothing. She looked left, then right, before exiting the patio to stand near the street. A large group occupied one side of the patio, the tables all pushed together to accommodate them. On the other were happy couples, laughing and smiling. She should have been amongst their ranks. Vicky reached for the small clutch she kept tucked under her arm to withdraw her phone when a soft palm met her back. Peter had come to his senses and come to comfort her and apologize for his behavior. The layers of pain he’d caused her lifted one by one as she turned her head to look at him, but standing behind her was not Peter. Another man stood where Peter should have been. At just a peg over six feet tall and broad with muscle, the man who stood behind her was a far cry from scrawny, average man that Peter was. And yet, despite his strength, the hand on Vicky’s back was gentle. Beautiful blue eyes looked down upon her, and for a moment all Vicky could do was stare into them. There was gruffness to his face that didn’t match how tenderly he treated her, hard lines and grit that suggested he’d lived a hard life. The blonde hair atop his head was kept short and neat, but a shadow of blonde stubble followed his strong jawline. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. “Are you alright, Miss?” he asked. The low register of his voice was smooth like stones eroded by the waves of the ocean, and deep enough that Vicky felt she could get lost within it. Words did not come easily, and after an easy silence she nodded. “I’m okay.” “I thought I saw you crying,” he admitted. The hand remained pressed to her back. “I wanted to make sure that everything is fine; I hate to see a pretty girl in tears.” Pretty girl? Vicky swallowed again, suddenly very conscious of how her nose was starting to run and how her eyes were probably pink from the close call with sorrow. How could he think she was beautiful when she was so torn apart? They were in different leagues. A man like him belonged with someone just as stunning, and she belonged with. Well. She belonged with whoever wanted to take pity on the ugly leftovers. “Thanks,” Vicky murmured. “I’m okay, really. I was just going to go...” Where was she going to go? All of her things were in the apartment she shared with Peter. All of the friends she had made moved away after college. At this time at night, her parents were starting to unwind for bed. Who was she going to stay with? “I was just leaving.” The blonde stranger was bigger and certainly stronger than she was, and there was hardship in his face, but Vicky did not feel frightened. Sometimes her first impressions turned out to be wrong, but she felt certain she could trust him. “If you don’t have anywhere to be,” the stranger said, “why don’t you come sit with me and my friends? I’m willing to bet you’ve had a tough night, and if you’ll let me I’d like to make it better.” Vicky couldn’t help but frown. Sitting around with strangers wouldn’t help her feel any better, and the emotional pain Peter had inflicted on her still stung. What she needed right now was to figure out where she was going to go and what she was going to do. After that, maybe she’d find a corner store and indulge in some ice cream. Peter’s stupid diet pact was done. She was through with only eating carrot sticks and celery. “No, I’m sorry. I need to go. It was um, it was really nice of you to come check on me. Thank you.” The handsome face was marred by a frown. The stranger withdrew a business card from his pocket and extended it towards her. “Give me a call sometime, and I’ll take you out for a drink just you and me.” Was this really happening? Vicky took the business card without looking at it, staring up at him with mild amazement. Was he giving her his number? Was he asking her out? “Thanks,” she mumbled as she turned to go. Before she could get far, he’d put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Before you go, tell me your name.” “Vicky Wilde,” she said, turning her head to look back at him. “Gavin Lister,” he replied in kind. The hand dropped from her shoulder, but he did not return to his friends. Vicky pursed her lips, mumbled a half-hearted goodbye, and took off down the street a bit more quickly than she’d intended to. Her heart was racing in her chest, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Two years with Peter had just eroded, and yet all she could think about was Gavin’s blue eyes and the way she felt when the smile had faded from his face after she’d rejected him. Rejected him? Had she really rejected a man? A good looking man? Vicky glanced over her shoulder to find Gavin still standing at the entrance to the patio. The white lights hit him from different angles and lent him a radiant aura. Like the sun, Vicky thought to herself. Or maybe more like an angel. When she slipped around the corner and called for a cab, Gavin’s image was still on her mind. With time to spare before her ride arrived, Vicky inspected the card he’d given her. The front advertised the legal expertise of one Finneus Harbright, but on the back, written in rushed, scratchy script, was a phone number and Gavin’s name. The cab appeared, and on their way to her decided destination they passed the Ambrogio. Vicky glanced out the window to scour the patio for him, and she found Gavin sitting amongst his large group of friends. While they talked and laughed, animated, he sat back in his chair and stared up at the night sky. Vicky turned the business card restlessly in her hand, then tucked it away into her purse. Her mother had always told her that all things happened for a reason, but never would Vicky have predicted that Peter’s cruelty would lead to an encounter the likes of the one she’d just had. Gavin Lister. When she closed her eyes, Vicky could almost see his face. For so long she’d feared being lonely and undesirable, but now that she’d taken the first steps towards being single, things weren’t shaping up badly at all. The cab sped into the night, but Vicky’s thoughts remained at the Ambrogio, lost in the blue eyes of a certain stranger.
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