His gaze fixed on my waist. On the softness of my arms. On the way the dress clung to my post-partum body, refusing to lie.
“It looks like a tent,” he said, reaching for a bottle of cologne. “Can’t you wear Spanx? A girdle? Something? The Board is going to be there tonight. The investors. I need you to look like a CEO’s wife, Ava. Not like…” He paused,continue reading …
