Chapter 7

I smoothed the fabric of my high-waisted skirt, the black material snug over my hips and belly. For once, wearing something fitted didn't bother me too much because the Amazing Curves piece flattened out my jiggly bits into sleek lines. Pulling at my low cut scarlet blouse, I asked, "How long?"

"Two minutes, Evi." The crew were setting up around me on the catwalk. Our live cross was coming up fast; I wouldn't be able to see Matt and Taylor, but they would be able to see me, and I could hear them through an earpiece. I was feeling shaky.

Heather knew it. "Are you okay?" she asked, attaching my mic pack to the back of my skirt. "You'll be fine."

"It's been a week since we spoke," I whispered. "What if it's weird?"

She smiled reassuringly. "You'll do great. You've been so tough. A man who bets on getting into your pants isn't worth your time. I'm proud that you haven't even responded to his email."

"Um..." I diverted my eyes upwards, pretending to observe the cloudy Melbournian sky through the clear ceiling of the giant tent.

"Evi... Did you reply the other day?"

"I might have asked him about his family..."

"What?" Heather squawked so loudly, the crew looked up in curiosity.

"Shh!" I hissed at her. "It's your fault! You were the one who said I didn't know anything about him! So, I was trying to do research."

"What did he say?" Her hazel eyes were narrow; she was interested despite her misgivings.

"He's got two brothers and his dad is dead. He's the only non-academic in the family. He was really open about everything."

"What did you send back?"

I shrugged on my white kimono jacket, careful not to disturb my lapel mic. "What makes you think I sent anything?"

"Because, despite what he's done, you still like him. You're still hoping he'll turn out to be the good guy you want him to be."

It was true. "I asked him why he's still single."

"Jeeze, Evi, dive straight in, why don't you?"

"I've got a good reason! If he tells me about his dating history, I'll have a better idea of the kind of person he is, and if he balks, I'll know he's hiding stuff."

Heather puffed her cheeks and blew out a breath. "I hope it works. But you still need to get through this morning."

"I'm more worried about not telling Taylor to piss off on air..."

"Well, we've got a seven second delay. I'm sure they'll bleep you." She flicked a piece of lint off my shoulder and gave me a swift hug. "You look terrific."

"Thanks, honey." I felt pretty good, strong in my bold shades, with my hair scooped up in a high, dominatrix-style ponytail.

Voices began to sound through my ear piece and the camera man gestured to me. "Twenty seconds, Evi."

I heard Taylor's simpering voice first. "So, it's time to check in with the former host of Jumpstart, Evi Moore!"

"She's still our host, everyone. Evianna has just been out on a special assignment." Matt's defence made me melt a little, his familiar tones like a balm against Taylor's grating ones. "#WhereisEvi has been trending nationally all week, and now we can reveal Evianna has been down in Melbourne, experiencing Fashion Week from behind the scenes. Good morning, Evianna! You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"Good morning, Matt," I said, smiling into the camera, and deliberately omitting Taylor's name in my greeting. "That's right, I've been glamming it up with the best of the best at Melbourne Fashion Week. Here's a report from the Couture capital."

The audio of my pre-recorded interview played. I actually heard Taylor gasp as I insulted Jordy Green, one of her fashion favourites, and I grinned wickedly. When the report was over, there was a moment of shocked silence before Taylor said, "Well... Evi, there's certainly some strong opinions in there. You're entitled to them, of course..."

Is there a question in there somewhere, Tay? Matt jumped in. "Evianna, tell us; what's been the biggest surprise of your week so far?"

"I'd have to say, my new-found respect for the models," I said. "Those women are dedicated to their careers and their bodies, with a focus that would make religious fanatics look half-arsed. I don't approve of the designers who promote staying slender by unhealthy means, but the majority of people in fashion support good eating and realistic exercise."

"That reminds me of a meme I saw the other day," butted in Taylor. "It was like, 'I respect people who have a hard body, because it's the one thing in the world you can't buy and you aren't born with, you have to earn it.' I was like, that's so true, yeah? People who work out deserve respect way more than people who are fat."

Matt spoke. "Of course, you still respect everyone else too, right, Taylor?"

I couldn't help but smirk. I knew the Jump Start social media would be overrun with people offended by Taylor's stupid comment. She seemed to realise her mistake. "Oh... right. Because, you know, some people can't work out, I guess. Maybe they're sick or something."

Keep digging, Taylor...

Matt overrode her nonsense. "Well, thanks to Evianna for her fascinating insight into the elite world of high fashion. Might I say, it seems as though fashion week has rubbed off on my co-host. You look beautiful, Evianna."

I blushed. His voice was a low growl, almost the exact tone he'd used the previous week when he'd pinned me against the wall outside my house. A vivid flashback struck me, my arms pressed over my head, my breasts pushing back against him, his breath hot on my skin.

Trying to recover my composure, I gave the camera a little salute and said, "Thanks so much, Matt. And thanks to everyone here at Fashion Week. Look out for me next Friday, and until then, take a chance, wear something new, and be fashion forward, no matter your size."

"Thanks, Evi!" said Taylor. "Enjoy your time away! We've got everything covered here!"

"We miss you, Evianna," said Matt wistfully. "We'll be in contact soon."

The music played, sending the broadcast to an ad break. I pulled the mic and ear piece off, smiling at Matt's last words; I knew there would be an email arriving for me in the not-to-distant future.

***

At the airport a few hours later, Heather and I entered the Virgin lounge, the elite club for only those people who could afford the pricey membership fee.

I walked straight over to the wine buffet, where eight different bottles of reds and whites sat glistening, ready for consumption. I poured myself two glasses and turned to Heather. "What are you going to drink?"

"Uh... I think I'll stick to water for now."

"Don't worry, it's all free," I reassured her, grabbing both my drinks and steering us towards the food.

Heather nodded. "I know that. But just because something is there and free, doesn't mean I have to have it."

I had been in the process of loading up my plate with white fluffy dinner rolls and real butter, but her words gave me pause. I loved the unlimited food and wine of the fancy lounge and I always filled my belly and drank myself into a stupor every time I flew without fail.

Why? Because it was there. Because it was free, and free food and grog always tasted better. Because when I was a broke uni student, buffets were like the Promised Land. Because I liked how wine made me feel better about myself. Just because.

I teetered for a moment, contemplating my next move. Then the scent of the fresh rolls hit me and I made my choice, placing one more on my plate and shrugging. "It saves me buying food on the flight," I justified, walking over to a low lounge suite in a lurid purple colour.

"You know we're flying to Perth, right?" Heather's tone was gentle, but I still felt judged as she said, "They'll feed us on the plane."

"Why are we going to WA anyway?" I said, trying to unsubtly change the topic as I drew deeply from my Cab-sav.

Grinning, she reached into her carry-on bag, producing a bright yellow hard hat. "Have a guess!"

"We're going to a mine? Please, tell me that it's open air!" A closet claustrophobic, the thought of being trapped deep under the earth made my chest tighten.

"Open air. It's called the Super Pit, a massive gold mine in Kalgoorlie. We'll stay in Perth for the weekend, then fly out there on Monday morning."

I knew almost zero about what life as a miner would be like; I didn't know whether to be nervous or excited, so I changed the subject again. "I'm glad you'll be with me, but won't Andie miss you?"

Heather smiled. "We'll be fine. We had crazy afternoon sex just before I left to pick you up. It's only a week; I'll be home on Friday night."

"You're lucky to have someone waiting for you," I sighed, thinking of the empty house awaiting me the next weekend.

"Come back here with me on Friday," said Heather. "Stay with Andie and me. We'd love to host you for the weekend! We could go to Salsa again..."

She knew she had me. "That would be awesome," I said, smiling at my friend.

"That reminds me..." Heather pulled a folded napkin from her wallet and laid it in front of me. "Your Salsa partner left this on our table the other night."

I'm here every Saturday.

Anthony

Pleasure bubbled up from my belly, but I played it down. "I'm sure he was just being nice."

"Nice nothing," said Heather. "That man was into you, Evi. I know you're too hung up on Matt to do anything with anyone else, but I just want you to realise you have more admirers than you realise."

I bit my lip to tone down my wide smile. "You're nuts. No one admires me like that."

"Suit yourself, lady." Heather winked at me knowingly, and passed me the napkin. I folded it carefully, feeling unsettled. I decided to ignore her words and concentrate on getting through to the next weekend.

She was right though; I was hung up on Matt. After my live cross, I'd checked my email every two minutes, even though my notifications would have let me know the second I received anything. Maybe when I land, he'll have sent me something...

***

Heather slept for the entire flight, tucked into the cushy business class seats. I tried to read unsuccessfully, then half-watched a rom-com about a hopelessly pretty twig-girl, lamenting about having to choose between two gorgeous suitors. Disgusted, I swiped it off, and watched the live ETA tracker, following our flight path as it crawled slowly across the Nullarbor.

By the time we landed, I was exhausted and staving even though it was midnight Melbourne time. I made Heather take our hire car past a Red Rooster drive-through, where I ordered a large chips with extra-chicken salt and a tub of gravy.

I ate the food in my hotel room, refreshing my email browser repeatedly, contemplating all the reasons why Matt hadn't responded. I worked myself up so much, I couldn't sleep until well after 3am. I slept through most of Saturday, emerging only for dinner at Heather's insistence.

Sunday was better. Heather banged on my door at seven. "Come on! I found a free Tai-Chi class on the beach. Let's go!"

I'd learned it was easier not to fight her. "Fine..."

Donning my most comfortable tracksuit pants and a baggy jumper, I allowed Heather to drag me down to the sand, where about twenty people stood copying the languid movements of the instructor up the front. We followed along, and despite my lack of co-ordination and the way Heather kept accidentally poking the people around us with her extraordinarily long limbs, we had fun.

After a fruit smoothie, we drove to AQWA, a massive aquarium, and spent the day happily wandering between exhibits. For once, I didn't spend a Sunday berating myself for being fat and lamenting my single status, imagining all the happy couples of the world making love and feeding each other breakfast in bed.

The only moment I felt sorry for myself came when I was watching a massive ugly Grouper drifting heavily through a tank, while slender stingrays soared around him like gorgeous birds. I know how you feel, buddy...

We bought pre-made salads and cookies for dinner, eating at a picnic table by the beach. We nibbled and giggled, tossing theories around about what the next day would be like. As the sun dipped into the ocean, Heather helped herself to a second chocolate cookie, saying, "I love these!"

"They're really good," I agreed. "I could eat the rest."

"They're yours," she said, sliding the pack towards me.

I poked my rounded belly. "Nope. I don't need to make this mess any worse."

I immediately regretted my words; it sounded like I was fishing for compliments, and the last thing I wanted was for Heather to launch into a sympathy-fuelled tirade, Oh no, you're beautiful, you're not fat, blah, blah, blah.

She surprised me by glossing over my self-pity. "Oh well, more for me then!" She reclaimed the cookies and ate another one.

I raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Must be nice, not worrying about your figure."

"I'm lucky," she said, the words garbled through the crumbs. "My weight has always stayed pretty stable on its own. Mum's the same – good metabolism runs in our family."

Normally, I always felt inferior around slender people, but because of Heather's tall frame, I'd never viewed her as 'skinny' or better than me. There was so much of her, we seemed to balance each other; her height with my weight.

"I can only imagine how great life must be when you're happy with how you look," I sighed.

Heather busted out laughing. "Happy? I've got just as many body issues as the next girl, thanks!"

"Really?" Is it the freckles? "What don't you like?"

She leaned forward. "My boobs."

"What? Are you kidding me?" I looked at her chest through her light tank. Heather's breasts were perfect in my eyes; perky B-cups that could easily be worn braless. "You have great boobies!"

"I've never liked them. I want to get them done one day, upgrade to massive D's, maybe do one of those Thailand cosmetic surgery holidays."

"What does Andie think about that?"

"Andie loves my little bee-stings, but I don't know... I just want to not feel like an Ent anymore; a tall tree with no curves."

I poured my third glass of Rose into my plastic cup. "You're very womanly; you're gorgeous! Your boobs are perfect."

"Thanks, but that's not how I feel." She gave me a tight smile, and I felt myself coil in frustration. She's beautiful! Why can't she see it?

The way you did when Matt told you the same thing?

Shut up, brain...

I lifted my cup high and said, "To the bits we wish we could change."

"Hear, hear."

***

Our flight to Kalgoorlie was early the next morning, so we said goodnight about seven and headed for our own rooms. In a show of inner-strength, I'd left my phone at the hotel for the day, to save myself from obsessing over my inbox. As I walked back in I checked the screen, finding two missed calls from Matt that morning.

My mouth ran dry and I clicked my sticky tongue anxiously. I wasn't sure if I would have answered it anyway, but I was bummed about not having the choice to. He hadn't left a voicemail, but a quick check showed a new email waiting for me with his name on it.

I emptied the rest of the wine bottle into a tumbler, and fortified myself for the response.

Evianna,

It's taken me a few days to even know how to respond to your question. I wish you'd picked up the phone today, because it would be easier for me to just talk to you about all this. I'm really torn. I'm glad we're emailing, but your one-sentence replies are telling me you're still mad – and I don't know why. Maybe I'm just a typical dumb male and I don't get the obvious signs when I've done something wrong. Maybe that's why I'm still single.

I had a weird dual-existence in high school; I was a geek - not a nerd, because I wasn't as smart as my brothers, but a geek. I reported for the school e-paper, got the lead roles in the school musicals, did well on the debating team.

But I never knew if I really deserved any of it, or if it was because of the way I looked. As my brothers told me constantly, I was 'pretty.' There were always girls hanging around me and I would think that they were my friends, until they'd tell me they loved me and things would get weird. The school used a photo of me on their promotional material, and all the other guys would scream, 'pretty boy!' whenever we'd see a poster on a bus stop. I grew really introverted when I wasn't on stage, spending most of my time reading alone in the library.

I hoped everything would be different when I got to uni, but it was more of the same. Girls wanted to date me, guys seemed to hate me. I made a good friend in my first year, a guy called Jared, but then we got drunk one night and he tried to kiss me. I gave up on friends after that. I dated a few girls, nothing serious; normally, we'd make it to the three month mark before their insecurities would kick in and they start questioning why I liked them, or accuse me of cheating.

I went into broadcasting, because I like the way the news was just facts; the news didn't care if you were pretty or ugly, it just was the way it was. I did an internship, worked in the newsroom of our network, slept with a few women casually, kept my head down.

Then, I got offered the hosting job of Jump Start. I didn't want it; I couldn't think of anything worse that being the token 'good-looking' guy on a morning show. The network chief insisted that I come in and meet the team, making it pretty clear that I didn't have much of a choice.

And that was where I met my co-host; this amazing vivacious woman, with a laugh that shook the windows and a wit faster than the Flash. She was funny and confident, and she didn't fawn over me the way everyone else did; she became my first friend in a very long time.

I took the job. Then, the more time I spent around my friend, the more I realised that I wanted her, every inch of her. So, that's why I'm single; I'm already hung up on someone. You, Evianna.

I want to call you tomorrow. Please let me know when.

Matt

I love Perth - it's a beautiful part of my gorgeous country.  I hope you're still enjoying Evi's journey.  What do you think of Heather's boob issues?  Should Evi go back to Salsa?  Do you feel bad for  Matt being too 'pretty?'  I'd love to hear from you :)

Please remember to vote if you like what I do -  I love each and every one of your for your love and support - thank you for reading and being part of the journey. xxoo Kate