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    Christmas Plum
    Christmas Plum
    Christmas Plum
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Christmas Plum

    By Dahlia Rose

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Portia Teale aka Plum was spunky, vivacious and flirty with a quick smile and a kind heart. But no one saw past her body and while she was growing up she was taunted with the name “plump plum.” She learned to accept her figure and was happy in her own skin. She considered herself fabulous and curvaceous even if no one else could see her beauty she sure as hell could. Mr. Right would come along when he was good and ready, till then she wouldn’t settle for “you’re pretty but if you weren’t so big...” hell no. Christmas came around and her little flower shop was selling poinsettias and holiday bouquets faster than she could make them. Mr. Hollis Wright came into the store with a rush order for a holiday party and showed more interest in her than her flowers. She accepted his dinner date and from the first kiss sparks flew.

    One minute he was buying arrangements for a party, the next he was dating the sweetest plum in New York City. Hollis didn’t care about her size or gossip. When he kissed Portia made him feel more alive than he felt in a long time. To him she was the most beautiful woman in the world. That doesn’t mean people didn’t talk when the dashing eligible bachelor showed up with her on his arm. From a size two to sixteen, one headline read and it faze him, it was his life and he lived it on his terms. The only thing that mattered to Hollis was the size of her love. While she thought that a holiday fling, Hollis was going to show her he had something more permanent in mind.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDahlia Rose
    Release dateDec 9, 2017
    ISBN9781370528561
    Christmas Plum
    Author

    Dahlia Rose

    Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

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      Book preview

      Christmas Plum - Dahlia Rose

      Christmas Plum

      By Dahlia Rose

      Chapter One

      The windows in midtown Manhattan were decked out in the usual holiday pomp and pageantry. In one, the Nutcracker scene was displayed with animatronic sugar plum fairies and moving toy soldiers. Another had a live Santa scene on his sleigh, and the actors’ only job was to wave at the wide-eyed children who passed by with parents holding their hands. Enticing people to stores was the true holiday meaning of the way the city dressed up for the holiday. Silver and tinsel stars hung everywhere. Lights and trees heralded every open square, from Columbus Circle to downtown Brooklyn. Christmas music filtered from store speakers, and store clerks wore Santa and elf hats, reindeer ears, and more to make people happy when they entered into the holiday shopping fray. 

      It was no different in Plum’s Floral Designs—yes that was the name she had given her store. She was lucky to have her storefront in the foyer of a Hilton Hotel, across from the ice bar. There, Portia Teele created bouquets for anniversaries, birthdays or any special occasion and that included for men meeting their mistresses upstairs. I’ve seen a few of those, she thought dryly as she trimmed the stems of red roses with petals that were thick and lush, like velvet. She made a good living, had wonderful vendors for her flowers, and liked her life the way it was. She lived an easy and uncomplicated, for the most part.

      She frowned when she saw the only wrinkle in her perfect world walking toward her store. George Leeks was the general manager and a sleazebag. He hit on her repeatedly and threatened her when she didn’t accept his advances. Then he could be downright insulting. Portia reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She placed it under the counter and pressed the record app she had downloaded to tape conversations between her and this leech.

      Portia, you look absolutely decadent. George’s purr came was akin to slime running down the wall, and she wanted to gag.

      How can I help you, Mr. Leeks? Portia never responded to his compliments anymore. She had learned the hard way not to even acknowledge them.

      George was dark-skinned and balding, which wouldn’t be a bad thing if he accepted it gracefully. He had three hairs on his greasy head that he brushed to the side, thinking he could cover the patch of skin. The man had a perm, Portia thought, that went out with the James Brown era. He seemed to have the rest of his hair shellacked down to his scalp with hair gel, because it never moved. This package of man was combined with a thin face and a pinched nose that whistled when he inhaled. He should really get that checked out. She eyed him with not even a smile. He was tall, and it belied the huge gut he carried it front of him. The massive belly on his thin frame was just odd. But his disposition was the worst thing, especially since he was married, and she saw how he tried to use the staff as his personal harem. A few of them took him up on it for better hours or a promotion. Portia could be working in the boiler room and sliding flowers through the dirty metal grates before she’d take him up on one of his offers.

      Portia, Portia, it’s the holidays. You must lighten up. He chuckled. I’m here to save you from the doldrums and invite you to a Christmas party I’m having.

      I’m sorry, I will have to decline. I’d prefer to swim with sharks in the Hudson River, Portia answered sweetly.

      You must think it will be too crowded, he went on like he didn’t hear her. But it’s just you and me, sweetie, in one of the suites upstairs. Champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries—we can even go shopping to find lingerie in your size.

      Oh no, he didn’t. Anger made her almost crush the delicate flower in her hand. She placed the rose gently on the counter and leaned over just a bit to stare directly at him. The intensity seemed to bother him, and he stepped back.

      Listen here, George Leeks, you have this notion that you’re this hot man full of animal magnetism, but you are a slime ball with a Jell-O pudding voice that makes people cringe, Portia said.

      And you should take the gift I’m offering you, he snapped. I mean, at your size, you want to be picky?

      At your age, do you honestly believe you could handle all of this? Portia put her hand on her generous hips. George, I love my sweet, thick body, and apparently you do, too, since you keep coming in here harassing me. I don’t want what you are offering, ever, not now, not in any span of time. Not if you were the last man on earth, not even if all the decent, handsome men fell off the face of the earth and left you and your weirdly shaped body. There is zero chance in hell I would get with you.

      He pointed at her. Don’t get comfortable. I see your lease here will be up really soon after I speak to the owners. You’d better be nice to me, woman.

      Portia laughed. You are a floor manager. You have to climb a lot of rungs to the top of the ladder to reach the bosses who signed my lease. But let’s say you did reach out and they did call me in. I’d go willingly and explain my side of the story and the lawsuit that could possibly come out of it, with my evidence.

      George looked around. What evidence? To have cameras in here without my knowledge is in breach of your lease. I read it.

      What cameras, George? Portia asked innocently. I keep telling you no, and you keep coming into my work space and making sexual advances that have always been unwarranted and not reciprocated. While it may work with the younger housekeeping staff, I’m a grown woman who does not and will not succumb to your will. Please leave, and when the owners and big bosses are ready to see me know I’ll be ready to defend my livelihood. Leave now.

      This isn’t over, he muttered.

      I’m sure it’s not. Portia smiled and waved as he left and people were passing by.

      Merry Christmas, Mr. Leeks!

      He didn’t answer, just stomped away. Yeah it was over. He was the coward type who could weigh the option of harassing her with being shown up at work or to his wife. She would be the one to do it, too, if he kept up his nonsense. Feeling rather pleased with herself, Portia went back to her work, humming the Christmas music that filtered through the air.

      The afternoon got busy as tourists came into the store and her regular customers picked up arrangements they had ordered. She had a poinsettia bouquet mix she created with white and red roses, snow on the mountain branches that were imported, and holly with the berries that sold like hot cakes every year. So much so she had to remind herself to make two extra for her mother and their holiday dinner. She was looking forward to finally being able to relax and enjoy her holiday, even the family dinner with her parents and sister. There was a stack of good books, warm socks, a TV, and her comfy, thick afghan waiting for her. This was her busiest season, and she was only closed on Christmas Day, the day after, and New Year’s Day.

      Finally. Portia blew away a curl of the hair that came from under her knit cap. 

      The slow down meant she could clean up and start tomorrow’s orders. That was after she put away the crates of flowers that came in, and she could only ask the delivery person to stack them in the corner. She had to get them out and in her coolers before the petals became damaged. Portia prided herself on the exotic blooms she got in. It took forever and tons of red tape to get her inventory from Hawaii, let alone the Caribbean. They had to be purchased through licensed vendors and guaranteed to not bring in insects that could harm the environment. Like exotic animals, flowers and fruit held the same strict guidelines.  Portia had just turned the key to close the glass doors when one man slipped through the small space. His black coat almost got caught.

      I need flowers, he said on a gasping breath.

      That’s all well and good, but I’m closed, Portia said.

      He raised a finger as he tried to catch his breath. "I beg to differ, I got in before the doors closed and that means by law you have to

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