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  My stomach churns. “Should I be worried?”

  “Nah. Max came by our room last night. He wanted you to go up to his suite, but you were sleeping so soundly neither of us had the heart to wake you. He’s not going to be at the photoshoot today, Candy. He has a full day of important back-to-back meetings with the top retailers in the city and with our local PR company. Since I’m here manning the fort at the photoshoot, his cousin Luana Monterroso, who manages our swimwear production in Brazil, will spend the day by his side. Chances are he’s not going to reemerge until the party later tonight. I wanted to warn you in advance.”

  A flood of relief washes over me. I thought I was going to have to handle yet another crisis, but this I can accept. It will be excruciating to spend a whole day without seeing Max, but knowing he came looking for me last night makes me giddy. This might turn out to be the longest day in history, but at least I’ll see him later.

  “Thanks so much for the heads-up, Deidra. I guess I won’t have to worry as to when he’ll show up.”

  “You’ll be so busy soaking up this new adventure, you won’t even have time to miss him.”

  I know she’s trying to make it easier for me to swallow this bitter pill, but I already know every minute away from him today will be agonizing.

  * * *

  When the driver slows down in front of the biggest house I’ve ever laid eyes on, I pull out my phone to double-check the address to make sure I’m at the right location. Holy shit. Who the hell lives here? Lady Gaga?

  Once I double-check the chauffeur didn’t make a mistake, I step out of the chic Mercedes Benz car. Although it’s only ten in the morning by the time I arrive, the bombastic beat of an expert DJ fills the mansion. I immediately recognize one of my favorite songs from Justin Timberlake’s 20/20 album. God, I love Pusher Love Girl.

  I make my way to the garden where the photoshoot is to take place while still bobbing my head to the sultry vibe. The backyard is already packed with models, photographers, makeup artists, hairdressers and a series of people fretting as if we’re on the set of a Hollywood movie. Wow. They spared no expense for this swimsuit collection.

  Deidra waves at me from the other side of the pool as she sashays towards me. She’s thin and tall enough to be a top model and her gorgeous features don’t hurt a bit.

  “You made it. You look fabulous in that adorable red dress with white polka dots. If you keep this up, we might have to include you as part of the lineup of models.” She winks at me before hugging me.

  Although it’s warm, I draped myself in a matching red cardigan to hide my upper arms. If this heat keeps up, I’ll have to ditch the cotton sweater in a few hours.

  “There’s no way I would allow anyone to take photos of me in a bathing suit.” It would be easy to blame my flaming cheeks on the warm weather, but I know I’m beet red from embarrassment at the idea I could prance around in a skimpy little two-piece suit allowing the world to ogle all my lumps and bumps. Yeah. It’s not going to happen.

  “You, my dear, underestimate what you’ve got going on.”

  “You sound exactly like Max.” It’s hard to believe somebody as slim as Deidra could make this comment about my body. She’s rail-thin. She doesn’t have an ounce of fat, how can she possibly understand?

  “I have a feeling by the end of the day you’ll see yourself very differently. After watching our dangerously sexy plus-size models make love to the camera, I’m sure you’ll have no choice but to face reality—you’re as beautiful as all of the women we hired for today’s shoot.”

  “Now you’re really going to make me blush,” I say, biting my lower lip as I drop my gaze to my shoes.

  “Come on, I want to introduce you to a few of our models and introduce you to the photographer. I think if you spend a few minutes with them, you’ll be able to find interesting angles you can inject in the articles.” Before I can answer, Deidra grabs my hand and forces me to follow her. God, even in those heels she’s walking fast. “Not that I’m one to start rumors, but word has it we might get a surprise visit from a reporter from CNN today. It seems plus-size model Tess Holliday’s primetime appearance not long ago has the worldwide channel very interested in curvy women.”

  “Are you serious?” I speak so loudly I surprise myself.

  “I’m not promising anything. I’m just saying there’s a possibility we might have a very interesting guest on site today.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. I wonder if she knows more than she’s letting on?

  “I hope the possibility turns out to be a reality. I would be beside myself to meet a reporter from CNN in the flesh.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about reporters from prime-time channels for now. I promised you a spread fit for royalty and I believe we should start the day off on the right foot by indulging in delectable food before anything else. Once you’re fully satiated, I’ll introduce you to key people.” Deidra’s eyes are gleaming with excitement and she pulls me towards the kitchen by the hand.

  I doubt very much I’ll ever be able to forget this day.

  * * *

  I think I need to pinch myself. I can’t believe I spent most of the morning interviewing some of the top models in the plus-size industry.

  Since this is a rare opportunity to interview someone face to face as opposed to an email interview, a Skype interview or even a phone interview, I went to town. I quizzed these beauties on their beauty regimes, their makeup tips, their hair secrets and flattering wardrobe selections for plus-size figures.

  Most of the models are sweethearts. I got along famously with nearly all of them, but I must say there was something slightly off-putting about Bruna Alvares. Who cares if she was voted plus-size model of the year when she has such a snooty attitude? I know she’s an international model and she’s graced the cover of Sassy magazine and of a number of other publications dedicated to plus-size women, but there’s no reason to look down on me the way she does. I could easily chalk it up to our height difference, since the Brazilian model stands five-eleven before she slips into her five-inch heels and my flat ballerina shoes don’t do much to enhance my petite five-four figure, but I’d be ignoring the obvious negative vibes she’s been sending my way since we first met. I know I seem plain next to her glamorous goddess-like self, but if she clicks her tongue while rolling her eyes before answering another one of my questions, I’ll scream. Biatch.

  As much as I hate to admit it, Bruna is beautiful, although not in a classical way. Her nose is a little on the large side, her eyes may be too wide for her face, and her forehead is a little small, but combined with her olive skin, naturally pouty lips, and jet-black hair, it works. She also oozes sex. I tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible while Ken, the top photographer, was gushing all over her earlier, but it’s impossible to be blind to how she manipulates people around her, especially men, with her sultry looks and her wide mouth. It didn’t take long to confirm Ken was straight given how his eyes devoured every single one of her curves. I think he must have asked her to arch her back at least eighty times to better showcase her enormous tits. I’m sure after this shoot, he’s either going to fuck her or he’s going to retreat to his room to jerk off salivating over her photos.

  I’m still pouting with my arms crossed over my chest, fuming at Bruna’s condescending attitude, when Giovanna Rossi calls out my name. “Candy, I’ve been talking Brian’s ear off about how I’ve never missed one of your articles since you took on the position of plus-size editor at Sassy magazine. After I went on and on about how you inspired me to send my headshots to an agency, he insisted on speaking to you.”

  “Oh, Giovanna, you’ve already made my day with your compliments. I can’t believe you’re spreading your gospel to strangers.”

  Giovanna Rossi and I have been email penpals since the day I published my first article for Sassy magazine. I still remember how shy she was about expressing her dream of becoming a model and how I encouraged her to go after what she wanted with gusto. I was t
he first person she contacted when Plus Models signed her on as one of their rising stars. Today, she’s one of the highest-paid plus-size models in the industry.

  “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t be here today in Miami on one of the most luxurious properties in the country parading in my bathing suit for an obscene amount of money if it weren’t for you. Brian was curious to meet the woman responsible for inspiring my success.” She winks, pulling at the arm of the tall man standing by her side. “Brian Whitfield, please meet Candice Westerman.”

  Giovanna is flanked by a tall, good-looking young guy with piercing light blue eyes, dressed more to attend an Ivy League school than for a photoshoot. His gaze is as striking as his red hair. Is her boyfriend with her on set?

  “Candy, Brian has at least one million questions to ask you. I hope you have a minute or two to answer them. I’ll leave the two of you alone to chat. I have to go change for my next photo session.” She giggles and turns on her heel. Before I can even thank her for the introduction, Giovanna meshes with the rest of the bodies on the set. I guess Brian isn’t her boyfriend after all.

  “It’s such an unbearably hot day, do you mind if we seek shelter?” Brian asks.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more. I must have guzzled down three gallons of water today, but I’m still dehydrated and if it wasn’t so unladylike, I’d admit I’ve been sweating profusely all afternoon. I’d much prefer sitting in the shade.” Armed with the confidence of seeing so many gorgeous curvy women strutting their stuff clad only in bikinis, I ditched my red cardigan a few hours ago, shoving it at the bottom of my tote bag. I can either continue to be self-conscious or I can avoid passing out from the insane heat.

  “Three gallons of water? I’m surprised you haven’t spent the better part of the day running to the bathroom.” He laughs.

  “I tend to exaggerate when I want to drive a point across.”

  “The mark of a great writer.” He flashes me a complicit smile.

  “Why, thank you, sir.”

  “One little confession. I’m sure you can’t possibly have perspired as much as I have.”

  We both laugh aloud.

  I like this Brian guy and I don’t even know who he is.

  Brian and I make our way to the gazebo near the pool to hide from the harshness of the beaming sun.

  “Giovanna is so forthcoming with her accolades about you, I’m hoping I might be able to interview you and include our discussion in an article I’ll run on our website.”

  “I must admit, I was completely unprepared for Giovanna’s eloquent comments,” I say, taking a seat across from him. “Which website do you write for?” I should ask in case it turns out to be Hustler magazine or some other site for horny men.

  “Oh, my gosh, this heat is affecting my brain. I should’ve mentioned I’m a writer for CNN.com’s Living section.”

  What did he say? “What do you mean CNN.com?” I can hear the panic in my voice. Surely this is a joke.

  “From your reaction, you’re either pleasantly surprised or you’re the only one on the planet who’s never heard of CNN.”

  The air is completely sucked out of my lungs and my head is spinning so fast I have to bring my hand up to my face to slow things down. I could blame my sudden affliction on the weather, but I’m pretty sure Brian’s place of employment is responsible for causing my body to go into shock. This cannot be happening.

  “Are you sure you want to interview me?” I ask incredulously.

  “I gather you’ve heard of CNN.com.” He smirks. “You’re hilarious, Candy. I have a sneaky feeling your enthusiasm is contagious and it will fuel the article I write about you.”

  “We’re really doing this?” Shit. Is he serious?

  “Unless there’s another Candy Westerman who is the editor of the plus-size division at Sassy magazine and the voice of curvy women in America, I’d say I’m sitting across from the right person.”

  Mother of God! If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me up.

  BOOK 3—CLAIMED BY AN ALPHA

  Chapter Three

  Brian and I have been chatting animatedly for over ninety minutes. We’re removed enough from the busy set to keep our conversation private, but close enough for me to catch all the action. Every time Brian asks me a question, I secretly pinch myself under the table, still unwilling to believe Lady Luck could be on my side like this.

  Brian is getting ready to ask me another question when he stops with his mouth wide open. His eyes shift above my head and I turn around to discover what’s caught his attention. The sun is so bright, even with my designer shades I have to squint before making out Deidra’s slender figure. She smiles warmly before addressing Brian.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your interview, but I was wondering how much longer you’ll be. I received a text message a few minutes ago from Mr. Keller and he’s very eager to meet with Candy to go over the article she’s writing about this photoshoot for Sassy magazine.”

  Mr. Keller? Why is she being so formal?

  “Deidra, I’ve had a wonderful conversation with Candy and I’m certain I have more than enough insightful facts to craft a story about her passion and dedication to positively influence plus-size women across America. We exchanged numbers and I’m sure I can be in touch with her if I have further questions. Chances are I most likely will, since it’s only when I start writing I’m able to discover the missing gems. If Mr. Keller requires Candy for a meeting, I would hate to keep her any longer.”

  Positively influence? Wow. I don’t remember wording it quite like he does, but sure, let’s roll with his version. I guess CNN knows best, right?

  “I’m happy to hear you were able to gather enough information. Mr. Keller has been trying to reach our dear Candy here, but I believe her phone is off.”

  Huh? Oh, shit. “Oh, no. Did I turn off my phone instead of switching it to vibrate?” I’m such an idiot sometimes. “When the videographer asked everyone on the set to make sure no phones would be ringing while he was shooting the footage for the promotional video, I must have shut off my phone.”

  “Mr. Keller has been impatiently trying to reach you. Since these days are so hectic and I’m running around all over the place at the same time, I’ve been letting my messages go to my voicemail and he hasn’t been able to reach either of us in the last few hours. Needless to say he’s slightly ticked right now.”

  “Oh, gosh,” I babble. “I was under the impression Mr. Keller wouldn’t be able to make it to the photoshoot. I feel terrible about being unreachable.” I pull my shades from my nose, grab my bag and stick my hand to the bottom to fish for my phone. I fumble to turn it on. Why didn’t she warn me he’d be in touch later in the day?

  “Deidra, I don’t want Candy to be in any kind of trouble. If she’s expected in an important meeting, please don’t let me hold her back.” Brian’s uneasy smile confirms he’s as worried as I am about Deidra’s announcement.

  “Thank you, Brian. Candy, do you mind following me?” Deidra’s request is more a command than a question. I quickly gather my belongings and push back my chair with such force it tumbles behind me and causes somewhat of a ruckus on the set. Deidra folds her tall body and grabs the chair before placing it back in its place. I’m so clumsy sometimes. I silently scorn myself.

  I turn to Brian to mutter a few parting words. “I really don’t know how to thank you for such an amazing opportunity. This day was already surreal as is, but the last hour and a half has taken an already perfect day to celestial levels. Thank you so very much for being willing to listen to my story.”

  “You were a riot to interview, Candy. I’m sure I’ll be in touch soon. Enjoy the rest of your stay in sunny Miami.”

  I wave goodbye to Brian before following Deidra’s quick steps.

  “I’m really sorry Max has been trying to reach me. I didn’t mean to be missing in action,” I say, trying my best to salvage the situation even though I was completely unaware I was to have a meeting with Max this
late in the day.

  Deidra stops so abruptly I nearly bump into her. “He wants to see you privately. If he walks into the mansion he’ll be attacked by a mob of eager industry people wanting to talk to him hoping to advance their career. He doesn’t want to bring too much attention to himself or to you, so he’s waiting for you outside in a SUV.”

  No way. “This little ruse is because he wants to see me? I thought he wasn’t supposed to come to the mansion today.”

  “We’re talking about Maximiliano Keller. What Max wants Max gets, and right now he wants you, love. He told me over the phone he was calling it a day so the two of you can spend some time together before the big party tonight because he hasn’t seen you since the little incident at your office.”

  “Oh my God. In my twenty-four years on this planet, I’d say this is the most indescribably wonderful day of my life.” I beam, reliving the highlights of today.

  “If you’re going to hang out with Max, you’d better get used to it,” she says, raising her eyebrows as she flashes me a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Come on, let me get you out of here before he calls me again looking for you.” Deidra is pulling my hand and dragging me across the opulent house.

  “Wait,” I let out, panicked, as we near the front door. “How am I going to know which car is his?”

  “When you step outside, you’ll notice a chauffeur standing next to a big black SUV. You can’t miss him. Now off you go.” She pushes me out the door with a little tap against my butt. I guess I’m on my own now.

  Deidra was right. It doesn’t take me long to spot a man standing guard near an impressive-looking shining black SUV. I’ve never seen anything this massive on four wheels before. I walk towards the vehicle and quicken my step when the man built like a bodyguard gestures my way.

  “Ms. Westerman, my name is Manuel. Mr. Keller is waiting for you.”