Revenge of a Fat Bitch [The Bitch Series 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  This is a journey. Pound by pound, muscle by muscle, I will get there. I have to celebrate each small milestone. I will gladly do so with this hunk of a man. Granted, he is probably barely out of his teens, but still…surely, he is legal. I have got to focus…and not on his sexuality.

  He holds out his hand for me. “I am Jake Reynolds. I am with Fitness World. I am to be at your disposal for a year. Are you ready to become the best you can be?”

  I take in a deep breath, and I look him in the eye. “Leigh Snyder. I am,” I tell him with sound resolve. “Let’s do it.”

  I welcome him into the living room. We sit side by side on the couch. He smells so good. Minty. Maybe its tea tree oil and peppermint. Whatever it is, it makes me hyperaware of his body.

  “First things first. This will take extreme dedication. You did not get out of shape all of a sudden. You will not get into shape all of a sudden. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Also, nutrition is just as important as workouts. Maybe even more so. I am not asking you to go on an extreme diet. You just need to make wise choices. We will have to go through your kitchen to analyze your diet.”

  That is going to be embarrassing. Food…it is my weakness. I simply nod my head.

  “Most importantly, I understand that you are doing this for revenge. However, that motive has to change.”

  “Hmmm…did you get the entire story about why I am doing this?”

  “I did. Glad you shot into the ceiling. That could have turned out poorly.”

  “I used every bit of the restraint I had.”

  “This needs to be a project for you. Only then will this work. This weight loss journey is not just about weight loss and fitness. It is about you.”

  I sigh. “To be honest, I hope to one day embrace that concept. I just don’t think that I can now.”

  “It is a little soon,” he agrees. “So, show me your kitchen.”

  I show him the kitchen. I do like to cook, so it is well-stocked.

  “You cook out of boxes,” he comments.

  “I would love to be able to cook from scratch more often, but it was just the three of us. Now, it is just the two of us. Plus, Michael is two-years-old.”

  He nods. “Ever hear of dinner co-ops?”

  I shake my head.

  “It is a group that is made of avid cooks that are in situations similar to yours. Once or twice a week, one person from that group hosts a meal for everyone.”

  “That is so cool! Hard to believe that we have such a thing here in Kentucky.”

  “Most of the people in these co-ops are from urban areas, but Lexington isn’t that far from here. I can hook you up with a few names and numbers.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “I’ll e-mail them to you. I understand that you are in a hurry and typically only cooking for 1.25 people, but portion size is key.”

  He goes back into the living room and rummages through his book bag. “See this?” He pulls out a plate. “It shows you how much of protein, carbs, fruits, and vegetables to eat.”

  I have never seen such a plate. “Where can I get one?”

  “You can have this. Planet Fitness is fascinated with your story, and they hope to use it to inspire more women. We are backing you one-hundred percent.”

  “You have my one-hundred percent. I am so thankful.”

  He hugs me before he leaves. It is so nice to feel a hard man’s body against mine. I breathe in his smell. Definitely peppermint and tea tree oil. Maybe a little bit of lavender, too. Also, he just smells of…manliness. Some men are so manly that it is tangible. Jake is one of those men.

  I think back to when Dick and I last had sex. It was a few weeks ago. It was boring married sex—obligatory, quiet, missionary-style, predictable, and simply boring. There were definitely no orgasms for me. What I would do to have an orgasm while riding a cock. I remember and miss those days. For the last few years, the only orgasms I have had were those I gave myself with the help of my wonderful vibrator. I could really get into sex with this man—a real man.

  Dick and I really did have problems. I can see that now. However, bringing Stacey Ray, the epic whore, into my bed was not the answer.

  Chapter Six

  August 30th, 200 pounds and size 22

  “Dick is wanting full custody, child support, and spousal support,” I tell Olivia in disbelief.

  Dick has not worked in about two years. He got laid off from his job as shift manager at Auto Zone. Then, he never could find a job that wasn’t beneath him. He is one of those people who is holding out for an executive position when he has entry-level skills.

  Olivia laughs.

  “Yes, my lawyer laughed, too. There is more. He is representing himself in court.”

  Olivia is laughing hysterically now. “What is that saying about someone who represents themselves in court?”

  “That they have a fool for a client,” I finish for her.

  “When are you leaving for Chicago?” she asks.

  “Jake and I are flying out tomorrow night. Mom and Dad are watching Michael. We are flying first class and staying at the best hotel in Chicago. Flying out of Louisville.”

  Opal is flying us to Chicago to do our first interview. Then, she wants to have us back every month for an update. I think Jake is as excited as I am.

  “How are the workouts going?”

  “They are tough, but I am giving it my all. The food part is the toughest. I love carbs.”

  “Don’t we all? Oprah once said, ‘I love bread.’ Got to love her realness.”

  “She is nothing if not real,” I agree. Michael curls up on the couch with his thumb in his mouth. “I believe it is time for Michael to nap. Talk soon.”

  “Yes. Call me when you get to Chicago. I want details. Call Mom and Dad, too.”

  Chapter Seven

  September 2nd, 198 pounds and size 22

  I did not think out the Opal thing completely. Opal is, hands-down, the most popular talk-show host ever. I was so caught up in the novelty of meeting her, being on television, and going to Chicago with Jake that I never even thought about the fact that this is to show my progression in my transformation. Of course, they expect me to walk on stage wearing next to nothing to show just how bad I look.

  Jake finds me crying in my dressing room. He doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs me. I cry on his shoulder, literally, and I sink into him. He is so strong, secure, loyal, and encouraging. I take an extra minute in his arms. I just need to feel his arms around me a little bit longer.

  “Talk to me,” he whispers.

  “I am fat,” I answer.

  “Leigh, first of all, I don’t like that attitude,” he chides. “Secondly, you are here because you are losing weight, gaining muscle, and getting a new perspective on life.”

  “Everyone in the world will see my body.”

  “Yes. And you will inspire. What better gift is there to give the women of the world?”

  I nod. He is right. “Will you stay with me?”

  “The entire time,” he assures me.

  “Five minutes,” a producer yells into the room.

  “Okay,” I answer.

  “Ready to set the world on fire?” Jake asks.

  “If you are ready to help me.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  We walk on stage and sit with Opal. I believe I could be reading her the telephone book—do they even exist any longer?—and she would show such compassion and empathy in her expressions. Some people just have the gift of charisma.

  She and the audience both laugh and weep through my story—often at the same time. Of course, she hugs me. She tells me to be strong, women power, and all that shit. Then, she has me stand up—gut, cellulite, flab, and all—in front of her, Jake, the audience, and the world. Back when I was having sex, I never even liked having sex with the lights on. Hell, I never even really liked being fully naked during sex. However, here I am, nearly naked, in front of
the world.

  The audience stands and claps for me. I am not sure what reaction I was expecting. That was not it, though. I grab Jake’s hand and look up at him. I am so thankful for my partnership with him.

  Chapter Eight

  September 15, 195 pounds and size 22

  I cannot even go to the grocery store without people stopping me to give me their story or their encouragement. The community’s support has helped keep my diet on track. Minus that one brownie that I had two days ago, I have kept on track. Granted, it was a big-ass brownie. I’ll blame that brownie on a killer case of PMS.

  That is why I am surprised at Jake’s outrage when I tell him that I cannot work out. I explain to him that Michael’s daycare has shut down because of an outbreak of lice. Thankfully, Michael does not have it. However, there is no understanding on Jake’s part. There is simply frustration.

  “I will be there in thirty minutes. Be in workout clothes,” he demands.

  I have yet to figure out how I am going to work out with this little bundle of high-strung energy tailing my every move. Jake is childless, and he has never been married. He obviously has no clue about domestic responsibilities.

  He shows up right on time, because Jake is always right on point. I admit, there are times when it is downright annoying. How can someone be so…together?

  He walks in without knocking, because we are beyond the niceties of strangers now. My casa is his casa. I just wish my bed was his bed—well, after I earn my revenge body.

  “Michael, my man,” he greets my drooling son. They give each other five, and Jake flies him around the room, making airplane sounds.

  “Jake! Look at this!” I lift my shirt a little and turn. “See any red lines from my pants cutting into me?”

  “I sure don’t!” he praises. “Losing weight, gaining muscle, and gaining confidence. Love it!

  “Notice I am engaging my abs,” he calls out to me. “Your turn. You have to have a back-up workout plan for times like these.”

  I take Michael in my arms, and I run around the room with him. His arms are outstretched. I am making airplane noises and engaging my core. Michael is giggling.

  “Now, time for a different airplane, Michael.” Jake pushes back the coffee table and puts Michael on his legs. “Plane is in the air! Oh, no. Is it going to crash?” He sets Michael down clumsily for a “crash.”

  I take my turn with Michael. “Feel it in your core?” he asks. I nod.

  “Dance party!” Jake declares. He brings out his mp3 player and speaker. The three of us dance up a sweat until Michael cannot handle any more excitement. We end up putting Michael in the bathtub. He clearly is ready for his bedtime routine.

  I clean up the bathroom while Jake reads Michael a story. When did Dick ever read to Michael? Michael has his head against him, enthralled in the telling of one of his favorite Dr. Suess books.

  I have had a few dirty thoughts about Jake. It is hard not to think about sex when he is around. Is there more to him? He is so much younger. He is only twenty. I have ten more years of experience on him. Would dating him make me a cougar, or is that a term only for those older than forty?

  I stand in the doorway and look at them. He looks up at me, oblivious of my deep thoughts. “Come join us,” he invites.

  I lay on the other side of Michael and listen as Jake reads Dr. Seuss in an exaggerated southern twang. Michael notices the over-the-top accent and giggles. Jake finishes, and I turn off the light. We lay down with Michael drifting to sleep between us. Both of us have an arm around Michael, and our fingers graze. Neither of us move. We simply look at each other with that look. It is that type of moment when you realize nothing will be as it was before, and it scares the shit out of you.

  I fall asleep thinking about what could be. I wake sometime in the middle of the night. I search for Jake. He is gone, but he covered me with another blanket before he left. He is just thoughtful like that.

  Chapter Nine

  September 22, 190 pounds and size 20

  I bought one pair of pants and one skirt for the office. I bought two pairs of yoga pants for home. I don’t want to buy too much. I don’t plan on being this size for long. It has become too cool for my shorts, anyway, so this worked out well.

  Michael played with blocks at my feet until he fell asleep. My phone rings. “Booty Calls,” I answer.

  “I just love that name,” says Jake.

  “Well, I wanted a name nobody could forget,” I quip.

  “Well done. Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know how happy I am. Keep up the good work.”

  There is a pregnant pause between us. I am not used to praise from a man. Dick never praised me. My dad is more of a quiet person. I always had to just assume he was proud of me.

  “Thank you. Once again, I appreciate all you do.”

  “Well, I am sure you have diapers to deal with. Have a good day.”

  “I do. Folding them as we speak. Have a good day.”

  I think back to that night when our fingertips met. A heat radiated from him throughout my entire body. My breathing became more shallow and rapid. Our eyes locked. He told me, without words that he felt the same intensity. However, we have never spoken of it since.

  “We have ten new household accounts this month,” Alicia, my assistant, informs me.

  “Awesome,” I reply. “Business is shitty, right?” I joke. We tell the same poop jokes over and over, but when you work in the diaper business, you must have a crude sense of humor.

  “In the crapper,” she replies. “We do have an issue, though. That new detergent you wanted us to try…it just isn’t getting the stains out.”

  She holds up a few cloth diapers for me to look at. They are definitely yellowed.

  “Well, we tried it. Go back to the oldy but goody.” I look over my to-do list. “Is the laundry from Meadow Brook Nursing Home picked up?”

  “We have a driver en route.”

  “You are the shit,” I compliment.

  “Want to talk about that hunk of a man you are about to fly to Chicago with—yet again?” She raises her eyebrows a few times comically.

  “Not much to say about him,” I answer coyly.

  “I don’t know. I bet we could talk about his arms that rival The Rock’s. Maybe we could talk about his ass. Damn. What an ass. Round. Tight. I would love to get a couple of handfuls of that.”

  “Geez, Alicia. You have a hunk of a man who shares a bed with you. Why are you so fascinated with mine?”

  I realize the Freudian slip at once. Unfortunately, so does Alicia. She says nothing as she backs out of the office with a big grin on her face.

  She pokes her head back into the office and loudly whispers, “Sex, if done right, can be great aerobic exercise.”

  Chapter Ten

  September 30, 188 pounds and size 20

  Olivia and I used to steal a few late-night hours every Sunday to have a glass of wine and catch up. Wine is just empty calories, so now, we drink water. However, neither of us need alcohol to have a good time.

  “You have a fan page now,” Olivia informs me while showing me her laptop screen.

  Sure enough, there is a picture of me from Opal. Fans write in to show their support. They also pose questions to each other about me. Who knew that I am that interesting?

  “This is crazy,” I comment as I scroll down.

  “Crazy cool…actually, crazy sexy cool…you know, like that TLC album.

  “TLC. Wow, it has been a while. I need to download their albums.”

  “That was the one with ‘If I Was Your Girlfriend’…very appropriate,” she teases with a grin. “Cannot forget ‘Diggin’ on You.’”

  I roll my eyes. “He is so much younger, in incredible shape, and has made no move since the ‘moment.’”

  Olivia became serious. “It wouldn’t be very professional if he did.”

  “Hmmm…that puts it in a new perspective.”

  “Plus, to quote Oprah, ‘Everybody looks
at their poop.’”

  “What the fuck does that mean? Is that supposed to inspire me?”

  “Well, yes it is. It means we are all the same. I bet even Mr. Latin Hot Body has some insecurities.”

  “Could you not have said it in a less gross way?”

  “Asks the woman who makes a living out of dirty diapers.”

  “Touché,” I concede. “Off subject. Do you wonder why Michael is with me this weekend? Not that I am complaining at all…”

  “Dick too busy with his whore toy?”

  “Yep. They are visiting her kids in St. Louis. They did not think it would be a good trip for Michael.”

  “True. That trip would have been bad. It would have killed you, also.”

  “I am letting him dig his hole. I will win this battle…no, this war.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “I think he is a little jealous of my new-found popularity.”

  “He always was an attention hog.”

  “He was, wasn’t he? He interrupted a lot.”

  “So is Stacey. She won’t like this competition for the spotlight.”

  “Maybe not. Don’t care. I got to thank her one day for using her vagina to give me freedom.”

  Olivia rolls her eyes. “That was gross.”

  “Guess it kind of was,” I agree. “I start my dinner co-op tomorrow night. Want to join?”

  “Nope. Busy with the kiddos. Game night and all. Have fun, though. Find a guy to tide you over until Jake can make his move. I bet he has awesome moves,” she jokes. “You know what they say about Latin lovers…”

  “I bet he does, too,” I muse. “And he is American through and through.”

  “There has got to be some Latin America blood in there,” she argues.

  “His mother is Costa Rican. His dad is Mexican. However, they came here before he was born.”