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She should know. She was one of them.
She thought back to that horrifying day at the department store a few months before when she was trying to find something beautiful and elegant for her father’s New Year’s Eve party but was instead practically turned away by the lack of any real selection for women like her.
What she would have given for something beautiful that would have fit her, maybe helped give her the confidence that she and women like her deserved to have.
Being plus-sized wasn’t something to be ashamed of. And if designers and the buyers for department stores who deemed what clothes and sizes they’d carry in their stores couldn’t see the potential to dress all sizes of women, then they didn’t deserve her money.
Her gaze stopped at the mirror in front of her, and she got up and went over to it, looking at the dress she’d made and worn for today’s meeting and admiring once again how well it had come out.
But it was more than that.
She studied the woman now behind the fabric. Her wide, curvy hips, the full, heavy breasts, and the belly that wasn’t flat and firm but soft and round. Underneath this dress were thick thighs that rubbed when she walked and sometimes made finding pants a pain in the butt, but they were also strong legs that had carried her around these past few weeks when owning a car became a luxury. She studied her face, the wider cheeks and the definite extra puff of a chin that, no matter how much she twisted her head, she couldn’t make disappear.
Did any of these things make her any less worthy of having something beautiful to wear, something that made her feel confident and beautiful and happy?
This was her. This was her body.
She was beautiful. As was this body, no matter its size.
Okay, so maybe she still had a ways to go before she was one-hundred-percent comfortable in it and accepting of her limitations, and maybe she never would. But she was going to try, and she was going to remember to love herself, no matter what.
After all, how could she expect anyone else to give her the respect and love she deserved if she couldn’t respect and love herself?
Her heart squeezed a moment as she thought about Reynolds. He’d been trying to tell her that very thing that night in Florida. He’d told her she was beautiful and wanted just as she was, but she still hadn’t quite believed it.
Instead, she’d felt humbled, grateful that someone like him could see past it all to wanting her.
But that had been wrong. She was worthy of that love and attention.
And although Reynolds might not be that man—a truth that still had her holding her stomach as she tried not to bow forward over the pain—someone out there would be.
“Sorry about that. Where were we?” Nina asked, returning.
“We were discussing the first Waverley Collection and starting the line with traditional sizes. But with all due respect, I disagree. There are already loads of selections of clothing for your traditional-sized woman. What I want is to provide options—beautiful, stylish options—to women like me. Plus-sized, curvy, whatever you call us. We should have first choice, not just the leftovers. And when I’ve established my brand, if there’s a need for traditional sizes and it fits my business model, then I’ll look at expanding our sizes to those size ten and under.”
Nina didn’t say anything for a minute, instead studying Waverley a little closer.
“I am grateful for your support and words of wisdom,” Waverley rushed in, hoping that she hadn’t just blown this chance or burned a bridge. “If you hadn’t shown an interest in my designs, I might not be where I am now, ready to start a new business. But I hope you understand that this is important to me. And a nonstarter.”
“I see.” Nina reached down and picked up one of the dresses again, studying it before looking at Waverley and her dress. “It’s a bold proposition, starting your business model on such a niche market, and I can’t deny that it might make things more difficult, but I respect where you’re coming from. And you’re right. There is a need. So if that’s the direction you want to take, then I still would be happy to work with you and debut your first collection.”
“Really?” Waverley felt new tears rushing to the surface, but this time they weren’t tears of deep sadness and loss but of hope.
“Really. So let’s sit down and look at your new designs. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Tea sounds great.”
She smiled like a loon as she sat there for the next couple of hours. Because this was a whole new beginning for her. Not just of her business but of asking and demanding what she wanted.
What she deserved.
* * *
It was nearly three by the time Reynolds got back to Blue Haven on Saturday afternoon. The case that had drawn him out of town since Wednesday was closed even though he still wasn’t sure if it was his skill so much as luck that had him tracking down the kidnapping dad on day two of his search. But whatever it was, he’d take it after having seen the tearful reunion between the three-year-old girl and her mom.
Driving down the familiar road to his office, there were signs of spring everywhere as the trees were thick and heavy with blossoms of pinks and yellows and whites, and the flower beds along the road were bright with daffodils and tulips.
If there was any time to feel happy and alive at having closed a case with such a great ending, this would be it. A reason to celebrate. To call up his brothers to go out and have a beer or check in with some of the women he’d seen off and on over the years.
