Twenty-Four Hours Read Online Free Page A

not be disgusted by this? She certainly was. She had been on diet after diet after diet, losing weight, gaining it back. Nothing had worked … she had been born fat, was fat in grade school, junior high, high school, college. The image of her school dances swarmed her … always watching from the sidelines, while all her friends paired up, even the friends she came to the dance with. Permanently the third wheel. Now she was going out to dinner with … well someone who probably was a Greek God. What the hell? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, remembering this was only for 24 hours. At 6am tomorrow, he would be gone. At least he had given her an out; she could always claim he was killed in action and that was the reason he never came around anymore. She was grateful for that. At least she never had to say she’d been dumped.
    The hot water felt good; she pushed away the negative thoughts as she washed herself, her rolls of fat that were so disgusting. She leaned against the tiled walls … she’d seen those much fatter than herself get married, obviously have sex as they have children … how do they and their partners get past the disgusting fat? How do they … do it? How can anyone kiss such a fat person? Michaelia put her fingers up to her lips, remembering the soft kiss Michael gave her. How was she not … repulsive? She took a deep breath, finished her shower and went out to the bedroom to look at the dress.
    It was red, with a low plunging neck, showing off lots of cleavage. However, she knew how she was going to look … her fat dumpy legs and jello arms sticking out of such beautiful fabric … but at least she’d be with Michael … for a few more hours at least. She wondered what would happen at the end of the dinner … would he leave early? Maybe crash on her couch? Maybe they could talk all night. That would be nice. Share coffee, maybe another kiss. Yes, very nice. She put the dress on, did her hair the best it would cooperate, but on some makeup … damn, even got the eye shadow out and the lipstick. She had no clue what she was doing, but she looked a little better, maybe a little sexy with some makeup. She wanted to at least look a bit of the part of a sophisticated woman going out to dinner and dancing.
    She walked back to the living room to see Michael dressed in a very nice, very tailored black suit. If he looked good in a tee and jeans … damn. James Bond had NOTHING on him.
    “Wow, you look nice.”
    Michael looked her up and down. “So do you. Very pretty.”
    “Thanks but I know I don’t do dresses very well.”
    “I think you look beautiful.”
    Michaelia blushed. No one had ever said that to her before.
    “Cute. I like when a woman blushes. Means she’s not all egotistical. Shall we go?” Michael extended his hand once again.
    It was becoming second nature for Michaelia to clasp her hand with his. It felt so natural. As was him opening the doors for her, him guiding her, putting his hand to her lower back to help her up a curb … it was all … romantic. As was the single red rose waiting in the car for her. Yep, Prince Charming was a slacker compared to him.
     

    * * * * *
     
    Vincent’s was magnificent. Michael had ordered for them, prime rib, potatoes, homemade rolls… and chocolate truffle cake for dessert. And Michaelia ate everything, no reservations. They talked, they danced… Michaelia hadn’t danced with anyone ever… well, with her brother-in-law at his and her sister’s wedding, but that didn’t. She thought she’d trip over her own feet, but she didn’t, she found the graceful woman who had been buried deep inside her. They danced, drank martinis, talked, until Vincent’s closed. And the night was over. All too soon, Michaelia found herself back home, her dreary one-bedroom apartment. She looked up at Michael who was still standing in the building’s hallway.
    “Um, would you like some coffee, maybe talk for a bit.” Michaelia looked at her watch.