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In Loving Memory of my son, Carl “Korky” Johnson
March 20, 1979 - August 30, 2017
Dear Reader:
Allison Hobbs, in her milestone thirtieth novel with Strebor, focuses on the relationship of two best friends, both of whom are plus-sized. In Sharp Curves Ahead, readers will discover that she remains true to her brand of erotica while spinning this tale about the world of curviness.
Jayla Carpenter and Bailee Evans struggle with their weight and its effect on their lifestyles and identities. Jayla is single and copes with her body image by promiscuity, perusing a web site where fit men hook up with curvy women. Jayla, a real estate agent, becomes accustomed to being victimized with fat shaming in her personal life and believes her size determines the properties she’s assigned to sell. Bailee is married—not as happily as she pretends—and resorts to food binges to satisfy her needs. Despite their closeness, they both harbor secrets about how they truly define their self-images and the efforts they take to feel better about themselves.
The novel is a roller coaster of surprises, twists and turns. It presents a new spin on women and how they compensate for their weight while challenges threaten to destroy their bond.
As always, thanks for supporting myself and the Strebor Books family. We strive to bring you the most cutting-edge, out-of-the-box material on the market. You can find me on Facebook @AuthorZane.
Blessings,
Publisher
Strebor Books
www.simonandschuster.com
Chapter 1
Jayla had gone to a great deal of trouble to get the Vance family’s home ready for tomorrow’s showing. In an effort to appeal to potential buyers, she’d decluttered the place, pulled furniture away from the walls for better traffic flow, replaced family pictures with contemporary art, accessorized tables with trendy pieces from her arsenal of home accessories, and she’d put fresh flowers in every room.
Staging a home to sell wasn’t a job for those that lacked creativity. Some realtors hired professional home stagers that charged high fees to make the home look more welcoming. When a home was placed in Jayla’s capable hands, she employed her uncanny talent for transforming shabby spaces into what appeared to be stylish, move-in-ready, model homes.
Of course, it was all an illusion. Instead of replacing outdated bathroom tiles, she slapped on a fresh coat of paint. By the time the paint started to crack or peel, it would be the new owner’s problem—not hers. Another trick that worked like a charm was to strategically place area rugs, disguising worn flooring.
Jayla possessed a magician’s bag of tricks that came in handy whenever a buyer was hesitant to sign on the dotted line. When it came to selling houses, Jayla was passionate, but despite her zealousness, she was not among the higher-paid real estate agents in the area.
She roamed from room to room, admiring her special touches: candlelight, a baby’s breath centerpiece on the dining table, and blue pillows on the living room couch that added a pop of color.
Tomorrow would be a long day. She was scheduled to show the home to four prospective buyers. Getting through the day would require lots of energy, a perpetual smile, and an endless stream of conversation that touted the qualities of the neighborhood, the merits of the school system, and most of all, the unique features of the house.
Typically, she’d return home after spending hours decorating. But, having full access to the home while the owners were conveniently out of town for the next two days, Jayla decided it would be wasteful not to put the lovely space to good use.
She climbed the stairs and entered the master bedroom, smiling in approval as she kicked off her shoes. After all her hard work, she’d earned the right to have a romp in the sturdy sleigh bed she had upgraded from frumpy to hot with a white cotton duvet, bold-patterned decorative pillows, and a graphic blanket at the end of the bed.
The ideal candidate to help her christen the renovated bedroom would have been Sadeeq, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, but he’d been fading in and out of her life lately, breaking dates at the last minute and not responding to texts.
Fuck you, Sadeeq! It was time for Jayla to fall back and make Sadeeq realize that she wasn’t desperate for his attention. Time would tell where his heart and head were really at.
Feeling empowered, she tapped on her favorite dating app and began scrolling through the photos of guys who were currently in the vicinity.
Eyes narrowed, she scrutinized the pictures and zoomed in on an exceptionally good-looking guy who was posed on an elegant balcony and wearing a smile so confident it bordered on a smirk—a sexy smirk. There were a range of pictures of him: sitting astride a motorcycle, on the beach with a group of guys playing volleyball. In yet another shot, he was aboard a yacht with a bottle of champagne in hand, and in the last picture, he was posed with his fraternity brothers at a formal event.
Although he was obviously physically fit, he hadn’t posted any cheesy pictures standing in front of a mirror with his shirt off, which Jayla appreciated. The picture with his fraternity brothers was proof that he was educated, which was another plus. This guy had the potential to be more than a random date; he was husband material.
With a flicker of excitement, she swiped to his profile. His name was Niles Beckworth and according to his bio, he was a tech entrepreneur who traveled often. During the week, he managed his business, but when the weekend rolled around, he was all about playing hard. He lived in Miami, Florida.
Damn, why couldn’t he be closer!
Briefly let down that Niles was only passing through the Philadelphia area, she reminded herself that she didn’t need a relationship. What she really needed was for someone to slide through and blow her back out to distract her from thinking about Sadeeq all the time.
She sent Niles a message and he responded within ten minutes. Over the phone, his voice was like liquid silk, and his easy laughter made her smile. After putting up with Sadeeq’s moodiness for the past month, she was ready for some fun.
Inside her overnight bag were sexy underwear, two negligees, a pair of heels, and condoms. She plopped the bag on the bed and padded to the master bath. After a shower that was longer than she’d intended, she glanced at the clock. Niles would be arriving in fifteen minutes. There was no time for her usual makeup ritual. Luckily, she was pretty enough to get by with only blush, a little mascara, and a few swipes of lip gloss.
The bell rang and Jayla’s phone dinged at the same time. Phone in hand, she swiped the screen as she descended the stairs. It was a message from Sadeeq: I miss you.
She sucked her teeth and refused to respond. Wearing heels and a lace chemise that accentuated her curvy figure, she moved smoothly toward the door. She set her phone down on the bamboo plant stand in the foyer before swinging open the door.
“Niles?” she asked in a voice that registered surprise. The man standing in the doorway was on the pudgy side with a visible gut. His once-handsome face was bloated from the weight gain that had occurred at some point after he’d taken the pictures that were posted on the dating site.
Hit with crushing disappointment, Jayla’s first impulse was to slam the door in his bloated face.
He had the same smirk he’d worn in the pictures, but it now seemed
grotesque rather than sexy. Holding a brown paper bag, he squeezed inside without waiting for an invitation. Jayla noticed that the hand holding the bag looked rough, as if it belonged to a mechanic or someone who did field work. His thumbnail was discolored with something that appeared to be a horrible fungus. The repugnant nail looked as if it were about to sprout mushrooms.
A close look at both of his crusty hands told her that the so-called tech entrepreneur had created a fake profile to make himself more appealing.
Before she could come up with a convenient excuse to rescind her invitation, Niles pulled a chilled bottle of cheap red wine out of the paper bag and handed it to her.
His eyes travelled up and down Jayla’s ample body. When his gaze finally settled on her face, he said, “I should have asked if you preferred red or white. Since most chicks go for sweet red wine, I figured you’d be okay with it.”
He’d struck out with the $7.99 bottle of wine. She cast another glance in his direction, searching for any redeeming qualities, but all she saw was a cheap-ass, overweight, sloppy-looking man with an infected thumbnail. The pictures he’d posted had to be old as fuck and time had clearly not been kind.
The dating app she’d selected was a site for physically fit men and plus-sized women to hook up. If Jayla wanted to bump tummies with a fat person, she could have easily found an overweight dude in the grocery store, standing in front of the freezer aisle, and salivating over Turkey Hill ice cream.
Think, Jayla, think! What can I say to get rid of him? She didn’t want to come off as rude or shallow, but she didn’t want to waste too much time making small talk either. Niles had only himself to blame for luring her in with pictures from back in the day when he was athletic and hot.
“Do you need me to uncork that?” he asked in an impatient tone, nodding toward the bottle of wine.
Oh, the gall of this fool. Only in his dreams will I be drinking wine with him.
She grabbed her phone from the plant stand. Brows creased, she glanced down and pulled up Sadeeq’s message. Looking up, she smiled apologetically at Niles. “Something just came up. Uh, why don’t you keep the wine? Hopefully, we can link up some other time.”
“You gotta be kidding,” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief. There was a mixture of anger and hurt glimmering in his eyes that forced Jayla to look away in guilt. She quickly reminded herself that she didn’t owe Niles, with his fake profile, one iota of truthfulness or consideration.
“I have a family emergency,” she said, keeping her voice purposefully light. She extended the bottle of wine. “Here, you go. I appreciate the gesture, but you can keep it.”
Niles grudgingly took the bottle and turned to leave. He suddenly whirled around and stared at her through hostile eyes. Without warning, he threw the bottle against the wall.
The sound of the crash was as loud as a gunshot, causing Jayla to duck and utter a small, shocked scream. Shards of glass rained down into her hair. Wine splashed her face and the front of her negligee. Before she could fully process what had happened, Niles picked up the neck of the broken bottle and pressed the jagged edge against her throat.
“Do you think you’re better than me?” he growled, poking her in the neck.
A surge of fear caused her adrenaline to spike like crazy. “No, I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” she said in a shaky, horrified whisper. She detected a vein pulsing at his temple, informing her that he was on the brink of more violence.
Her gaze flickered downward and she noticed a single droplet of blood trickling from her neck and down her chest. Her terrified eyes darted around the foyer, taking in the appalling scene of broken glass and a wine-soaked area rug.
Oh, God, this cannot be happening. Is this madman going to kill me?
“I’m sick of fat bitches acting like they’re too good for me just because I put on a little extra weight.” Sneeringly, he ran his eyes over Jayla’s plump body. “You have a lot of nerve discriminating against an overweight man when your big ass obviously weighs a ton.”
Ordinarily, the insult about her weight would have caused her to flinch, but under the circumstances, she had more important things to be concerned with—like how to escape with her life intact.
As if reading her mind, he twisted her left arm painfully behind her back, and then steered Jayla out of the foyer and into the living room.
“Nice place,” he remarked casually. The calmness in his tone was so chilling, she lost her balance and stumbled as her heart drummed furiously in her chest.
“Be careful,” he cautioned with a sneer. “I don’t want to end up with a hernia or a back sprain, trying to pick your big ass off the floor.” Niles laughed scornfully as he led her toward the couch that was adorned with cheerful blue pillows.
He shoved her onto the couch, bent over and whispered menacingly in her ear: “Make love to me like I’m your man. I like lots of foreplay before I go in, so don’t rush through it.”
He began removing his clothes and Jayla turned her head, unable to watch. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard. “Look at me,” he spat, the corners of his mouth curled up in cruel triumph. “Look at all this prime beef,” he demanded, gripping his dick. “You can get it if your tongue game is tight.”
Tears sprang to Jayla’s eyes. Feeling humiliated wasn’t new to her. Countless popped buttons, split seams, broken zippers, and fat-shaming epithets had familiarized her with embarrassment, but never had she felt the heat of shame as profoundly as in this moment. Never had she felt so vulnerable and pathetic.
She was in the hands of a psychopath, and she only had herself to blame.
Chapter 2
Bailee glanced up from her laptop. “I can’t decide if we should add an orange chocolate lava cake to the dessert table or couture cupcakes.”
“Either choice is okay with me,” Trent replied absently, his eyes fixed on the TV screen.
“Can you show some interest and give me a little support, babe? Our tenth anniversary party is a big deal, you know,” Bailee said.
Seeming not to hear her, Trent jumped up in excitement and let out a roar as his favorite football team charged across the field, forcefully knocking into their opponents.
It was a barbaric sport that Trent adored, but Bailee didn’t understand it and wasn’t interested in learning the rules of the game. Realizing there was no point in trying to have a civilized conversation with her husband until the commercial break, Bailee retuned her attention to the computer and continued scrutinizing a plethora of insanely decadent desserts. On the night of the anniversary party, she planned to go overboard and indulge in all the sugary treats she’d been denying herself in order to fit into her anniversary dress.
When a commercial came on, Trent got up from his recliner to get another bottle of beer. As he moseyed near the couch, where Bailee sat, he cut an eye at the extravagant desserts on the computer screen, evaluated the cost, and let out a whistle of surprise.
“What is it, hon?” Bailee asked.
“How much are we spending on dessert?”
“You don’t want to know,” Bailee warned.
“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?”
“Listen, we both work hard and we can afford to splurge on our special day. Most of our friends from college didn’t make it past five years of marriage. We’re one of the rare few who made it to the ten-year mark without separating or having to deal with any other kind of drama.” She smiled at him warmly and added, “What we have is worth celebrating and spending a little extra on the dessert station.”
“You’re right. Get whatever makes you happy.”
“It’s not only about me—it’s about us, and I want you to be a part of the planning.”
“Whoa!” Trent held up his hands. “Party planning is your thing—it’s not mine. Besides, what happened to your girl? I thought Jayla, with her sense of style and impeccable taste, was going to help you out.”
There was an awkward silence as Bailee pon
dered Trent’s remark. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jayla. She’s been acting odd.”
Trent raised his brow.
“I feel like she’s been blowing me off. She hasn’t been answering my calls. Instead she responds with a text, telling me she’ll return the call. But she never does. Jayla realizes how important our anniversary party is, and I can’t help wondering why she’s not being more helpful.”
“Maybe she’s jealous,” Trent suggested.
“Listen, I know Jayla like the back of my hand, and she’s not jealous of me.”
“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”
“Why do you dislike Jayla so much? Are you threatened by her?”
Trent scoffed. “Why would I be threatened by someone so fake and pathetic?”
“Wow, I had no idea you were harboring so much animosity toward her.”
“Now you know,” Trent said unapologetically. “To be honest, I hope she does bail on our party. I’d rather hire a professional than let her turn our event into a Jayla Carpenter freak fest.”
Bailee scowled in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t want to bring it up, but you need to know that your girl was in rare form at our wedding reception and also at your twenty-ninth birthday party.”
“What do you mean by ‘rare form’?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Of course.”
“At the reception, she let two of the groomsmen smash in the bathroom. She gave one dude top while the other was all up in the cooch.”
“Who told you that lie?” Bailee asked bitterly.
“I wouldn’t lie about something like that. My homeboy, Chance, told me what went down. I didn’t believe him, so I asked my boy, Tone, about it. He corroborated Chance’s story and added that Jayla told them it was her secret desire to have sex with two men at once.”
Bailee’s face froze into an expression of complete shock.
Sharp Curves Ahead Page 1
