THE RIGHT FIT (Chasing Desires #1)

Chapter One

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No one was more surprised to be sitting on a park bench in the dead of winter, pretending to read a romance paperback, than Maxine. After a month's worth of emails, she finally agreed to go on a blind date. She told him she'd be wearing a long white coat with a red scarf.

She had arrived a half hour early, nervous and unsure. To kill time she'd gone into a small bookstore close to the front gate of the park. A leftover Valentine's Day rack of staff picks of romantic books was still on display. On a whim Maxine picked out the one with a formally dressed couple in each other's arms, Waiting for Fate. A sign, she decided.

Earlier, when she was getting ready in her apartment, Maxine turned to the mirror on the back of her bedroom door knowing she'd need her Spanx for today's escapade. The green Dior dress with the vixen neckline had been too good of a find at Carmine's second hand shop to pass up, but she knew even with the size discrepancy of the vintage outfit, it was still a tight squeeze. Carmine had told her it was a dress made for seduction. She bought it on the spot, planning to lose enough weight for it to fit perfectly.

Maxine's shoulders drooped at her reflection. "I changed my mind," she'd said. "I'm not going."

"That's fear talking," Crosby's voice came from the inside of Maxine's closet. There was a grunt, then a curse as shoe boxes tumbled from the upper shelf.

Maxine's heart moved to her throat as her younger sister stumbled backwards out of the closet.

Crosby easily gained her footing, even in her stilettos and tight pencil skirt. She'd taken an early lunch from work and had arrived at Maxine's apartment to help her get ready. She held out a pair of black patent heels. "Wear these, they're adorable," she ordered, the shoes dangling from her fingers.

"I can't wear those in the snow."

"But they match the dress," she insisted.

Maxine zeroed in on the long white box still tucked away on the upper shelf. Still unopened. Still safe. Her pulse calmed.

Instead of taking the shoes she began to play the usual 'pull and tug' game with the dress, trying to make it longer, wider—the right fit.

The right fit had eluded Maxine ever since puberty. Now, at twenty-seven she had to contend with wearing seamless girdles like Spanx under almost everything she owned, which as Crosby pointed out on a regular basis, were wardrobe leftovers from black and white movies.

"Stop stalling," Crosby said. "You've blown this date off too many times, Maxie." Then her voice softened. "You deserve this bit of adventure."

A wave of heated embarrassment rose up Maxine's neck. It was bad enough that her heart had been broken, but the fact everyone knew how was almost as painful as the physical ache in her chest every night when she laid in her empty bed—and on the bad days, every time she took a breath. Especially every time she looked at that damn box in the closet.

An image superimposed itself, buoyed from a memory she'll never be able to suppress. Maxine could see the box's contents strewn across the floor while she stood dumbfounded in the doorway, staring at the couple on her bed.

She blinked hard to erase the vision, but the voices were still in her head, burned into her memory like a scar.

"Yes, Johnny. Oh God, right there, baby."

A nudge brought Maxine out of her daydream. Crosby took Maxine by the shoulders. "It's been almost six months," she'd said.

Six months and five days, Maxine thought.