Chapter One
Haven
“What the hell, Ian?” I shake my phone with the photo of my boyfriend with his tongue stuck down another woman’s throat. “You didn’t think I’d find out? How stupid are you?”
He’s an up-and-coming singer. A pop princess since I was sixteen, I helped launch the bastard’s career last year. He got a record deal and topped charts because of me.
Ian doesn’t bother looking ashamed. He shrugs. “We ran our course, babe.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I’ve always hated it when he calls me babe, and he knows it too. “You didn’t think to clue me in, asshole?”
Truth be told, I’m more upset at once again having my personal relationship splashed all over the media than I am at Ian’s infidelity. He wasn’t exactly boyfriend of the year. But I thought we were good together. We both had the same passion for music and the driving need to succeed.
He smirks. “Come on now. You didn’t think I was with you for your looks, did you? Or your great personality. There’s only one reason a guy like me dates a chubbo like you—to get his name out there.”
My pride stings from his cruel comments but hell if I’ll let him see that. I grew up watching my dad say snarky things to my mom, and I will not accept it in my own relationships. “Get out of my apartment. Get out right now, asshole.”
He slinks off still wearing that dumb smirk and slamming the door behind himself.
As soon as he’s gone, my shoulders slump. The fight leaves me, and all I feel is tired and defeated. I’m furious with myself for being used by a man again. It happened when I was first coming onto the music scene, and I got taken advantage of by a sleazy producer who had a thing for underage girls. My skin crawls just thinking about that.
There’s a knock on the door, and my assistant is bustling into my penthouse apartment. Anita is beautiful but she’s always dressed in an understated way to avoid bringing attention to herself. She works hard to hide in the background which isn’t easy given that the paparazzi follow me frequently.
She frowns as she comes in, handing me a latte. “I saw sleazeball in the hall.” Her tone indicates she knows about the photographs. I’m already trending on social media again.
Damn, I hate that. I hate when I’m trending for personal reasons and not because I dropped a new single. I want the world to focus on my career. I want to be talked about because of my music, not because of what size I am today or whether my thighs jiggled when I was at the beach in a swimsuit. Spoiler alert: they did.
But I didn’t give a fuck. After years of living in an industry that told me what I was supposed to look like, I gave the world the finger. I stopped starving myself to fit in and began feeding my body real foods. Foods that give me energy and make me happy. Foods that taste good and I take pleasure in.
I stopped spending time in my personal gym so I could punish myself and instead focused on workouts that make me feel strong and sexy. I never knew weightlifting could be so empowering until I tried it this past year.
My curves may not be considered socially acceptable but even with them, I can still make an album go platinum. My name can make or break a new artist and I’m considered an icon in the industry at only twenty-two.
“I’m a bad ass bitch,” I remind myself. I’ve weathered far worse than a stupid scandal involving the president of the small penis club. That’s not just the scorned ex-girlfriend in me talking either. Even when we were together, I knew if I wanted to finish then I’d have to reach for the rabbit.
“Damn straight you’re a bad ass,” Anita declares and bumps her coffee cup against mine. This is what I love about Anita. She’s not just my assistant, she’s also my bestie. We grew up together and when I embarked on my career, she stayed loyal to me. Most of my friends turned against me, which isn’t terribly uncommon when you become famous.
But not Anita. She stuck with me. She never hesitates to build me up or cheer me on. Even when I got sued over a copyright infringement case and it looked like I was about to lose everything, she stood by me. She’s my ride or die.
“Will you be issuing a statement about this? Marsha has to be beside herself by now.” Marsha is my manager, and she never liked Ian. She tried to tell me from the beginning that she suspected he wasn’t sincere in his feelings. But ever the romantic, I chose to believe the best in him. It’s the last time I give a man the benefit of the doubt.
I shake my head. “No, I’m not letting this overshadow what we’re doing today.”
Today, I’m speaking to a girls’ organization. It’s a talk about healing from eating disorders, a topic I’m passionate about. I still don’t always feel comfortable in my skin. In many ways, learning to love my body is a journey, not a destination. But I’ve found that talking about it helps my fans. They learn that even celebrities look in the mirror and struggle with what they see.
Anita smiles, her expression filled with pride. “That’s my girl.”
I spend the next few hours at the underprivileged girls’ center. After my talk, I hang out with them. I answer their questions about everything from how I got started in the music industry to what I eat for breakfast.
Most of them want selfies with me or a hug. I fulfill all the requests, feeling overwhelmed and delighted by their enthusiasm. It makes my day when one teenage girl tells me she’s working to heal from her eating disorder thanks to a song I wrote about loving yourself.
When we’re back in the SUV and we’ve managed to shake the paparazzi, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t mind being considered a celebrity too much, especially on days like today when I feel as if I’m making a difference in the world.
But when I first got into the industry, no one told me that it would be like living in a snow globe. At first, you don’t even notice. You’re so caught up in chasing the dream.
Over time, your circle gets smaller and smaller as you learn that you can’t trust most of the people around you. Meanwhile, more and more people are staring at you. They’re always shaking the snow globe and demanding you perform.
“I could beat the shit out of him,” Oliver offers from the seat next to me. He’s my head bodyguard and though he’s always a total professional and gentleman, I’ve seen the way he eyes my best friend like she’s a tasty treat. But she’s completely oblivious.
He must have assumed that my sigh had something to do with my ex-boyfriend. Still, the offer makes me smile. Some celebrities are careful to never form relationships with their employees. But I’m not capable of staying that detached. I always wear my heart on my sleeve.
I wave away his offer. “He’s not worth it. I just wish I could find a good guy. That I could date without all this bullshit getting in the way.”
Oliver says nothing. He’s not the consoling type.
Anita leans up between our two seats, and my bodyguard instantly tenses. But as usual, she’s not paying any attention to him. “What about a dating app? Some place where you can hide your identity until you know he’s sincere.”
She passes me my phone. She often keeps up with it for me during events. I can only imagine how much it would be auctioned for if an eager fan ever found it. “Remember that app? It’s the one you modeled for a while back.”
I frown. “You mean Curve Connection?”
I loved the idea behind Curve Connection. It’s all about helping women connect with people who will appreciate and love their curves. It sparked a whole conversation around body positivity in the dating world.
While I’ve never considered online dating, I’m not against the idea. I’ve heard stories about lasting marriages where the couple met online. I mean, I’m not looking for a big commitment like marriage right now. There are still a million dreams I want to chase. But it would be nice to find someone to share my life with, who wanted to go on adventures and travel with me.
She grins at me. “I created you a profile. I just uploaded one of those cute little doll avatars so no one will know it’s you.”
I tap through the profile she made. She covered all of my interests and made me sound fascinating without revealing that I’m a professional singer. Instead, she listed my occupation as a guitarist. It’s not a lie. I do rock the electric guitar and often play it during my concerts. Then I see the username and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “Must love sweets?”
Anita is a curvy woman like me, and she completely supports my obsession with sweets in any form. It doesn’t matter if it’s chocolate, cake, or cookies. I have a major sweet tooth that I’ve never been able to tame. Not that I try to anymore.
She winks at me. “Just give it a few days and see if you can find yourself a nice slab of man cake.”
I chuckle again and hope that I do. It would be nice to find a good man for a change.