Real Women Don't Wear Size 2 by Kelley St. John Read Free Book Online Page B

asked incredulously. “As in stretch a tape measure around and actually log the dimensions?” An image flashed from a recent Discovery Channel show, where two beefy men tried to stretch their arms around a redwood tree and failed to meet in the middle. “You sure that’s really necessary?”
    Grinning, Shannon dug her tiny hand into her front pocket—quite a feat, since the pants could’ve been painted on—and withdrew a green tape measure. “Absolutely necessary. If you don’t get the right size, it won’t work.”
    “Terrific,” Clarise said, rolling her eyes. “This is just what I need to pump up my ego for the trip.”
    “How’s it going?” Jadelle, her eyes as excited as Shannon’s, approached the two of them. She nodded approvingly toward the rack of clothes. “Oh, she’s perfect for those!”
    Great. Everyone was in agreement except Clarise, whose uncertainty with the assessment was palpable. “Are you sure? We’re talking about little bitty clothes and a not so little bitty body.”
    “Definitely. Come on, Jadelle, help me get her measurements,” Shannon said.
    There it went again, that image of the tree.
    “Don’t you have some other customers you need to help?” Clarise asked, wondering if there was anyone in the place who wasn’t about to find out how hideously large the Robinson Treasures were. Surely there were some additional salespeople in the back who wanted to gawk at the woman who dared believe she could fit a watermelon through a keyhole.
    “Took care of ’em,” Jadelle informed.
    Clarise sucked her belly in, then gave up the fight and let it go. Heck, if she was actually going to fork out the money to pay for this stuff, she might as well get something that fit. Preferably while breathing.
    “We need a pen and paper,” Shannon said, which Jadelle quickly supplied.
    Wonderful. Not only would these two know the full extent of her bounty, but anyone who happened to sneak a peak at their notes would get a belly laugh too. Oh joy.
    “Arms out,” Shannon announced.
    Clarise closed her eyes and obeyed. She did want new clothes, after all, different from her conservative work wardrobe. Fun clothes. Sexy clothes. And if anyone could help her find them, she’d bet it was the woman currently circling her boobs with a tape measure. Lord, Clarise hoped the thing was long enough to cover the territory.

Chapter 4
    C larise hadn’t anticipated having her body sized up by two overzealous pixies. But here she was, squinting through the equivalent of two elves measuring Santa.
    “Wow!” Jadelle exclaimed, forcing Clarise to pry one hesitant eye open. The sassy blonde held up the paper.
    Clarise gawked at the dimension, as though staring at it would make it shrink, like she hadn’t tried that before. Staring at it, harnessing it, meditating over it. Didn’t matter, her treasures were determined to “shine” as Granny Gert put it. If they shone any brighter, everyone in the state of Alabama would need blinders.
    She shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it, though. Even when I diet, they stay intact. And when I gain weight, guess where it goes?”
    “Cool. Don’t guess you’d be willing to share?” Shannon asked, plum-ringed lips grinning.
    “You aren’t serious,” Clarise said.
    They ignored her statement and moved to her waist. Then, while her gaze darted around the room and she prayed no one else would join this odd little party, they notated the circumference of her caboose. Clarise wanted to die, right here, right now. She closed her eyes and waited, then she forced them open to view the dainty women madly gathering garments from the rack.
    “Perfect,” Shannon said. “Oh my goodness, this is incredible. What do you think, Jade?”
    “Oh yeah. And just think how this will show off her boobs!” She held up a tube top.
    A tube top?
“You’ve
got
to be kidding.” Clarise attempted to wedge her way back into the conversation, which was only fair, since she was the topic