Curves and Mistletoe (2 page)

Somehow she found the prospect more
exciting than her options at the company.

***

Jenny brushed her hair back with her
hands and put it up in a neat bun, using only her reflection in the
metal refrigerator door to guide her. When she was satisfied she
pulled down her skirt a bit and straightened herself. She felt
good, like a woman of accomplishment.

“
You look
stunning.”

“
Why thank you.”

Bryce led her back to the party, where
the guests were finally starting to mingle, the procession of long,
boring talks over with. He smiled as he put his hand on the small
of her back and guided her over to the punch table, getting her a
glass and leaning close.

“
It seems we missed all the
pleasantries. Oh well, I’m sure we had more fun.”

She just smiled and looked around the
room, trying to find someone familiar.

“
Jenny! There you are! I
have been looking everywhere for you,” Roger Steadman called out,
waving to her as he approached. As the Creative Director he was
seemingly always looking for her, trying to get her to work and
make decisions for him, even in the middle of parties. Over the
last couple of years at the position she had gotten used to it,
doing her work and some of his. But Bryce was right, she didn’t
have to. She could be so much more, to the company, to
Bryce.

“
I see you have met young
Mr. Seymour. It is an honor to finally see you at one of these
things, Bryce. How are you?” Roger shook his hand and smiled as he
looked at the two of them.

“
Doing as well as ever,
Roger. Especially after having the pleasure of meeting such
promising young potential.

Roger shifted uncomfortably and then
looked up, pointing and drawing attention away from him.

“
Oh, look at that! Standing
under mistletoe. You know how the tradition goes. Give her a kiss.”
Roger was always one for silly traditions, black cats, and cracks
and all that. So she wasn’t surprised.

Bryce’s eyes gleamed as he looked up
and then down at Jenny, a smirk on his face.

“
If it is for tradition,
then I must.” Bryce leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her
lips. It was warm and sweet, and held a note of the passion that
they had shared earlier.

“
Allow me to steal Ms.
Cromwell away, will you? Creative has been looking for her all
evening.” Although Roger asked politely, it was more of a demand
than a question.

“
Absolutely,” Bryce turned
to her, “I hope that I will be seeing a lot more of you, Ms.
Cromwell. Both in and out of the office.”

“
You can count on it.” She
wouldn’t let a man like that go, especially one that made her feel
so damn naughty.

Sample: Riveted: For Love of a
Soldier

CHAPTER ONE

Ava bent down, cigarette dangling
from her mouth and pushed the end of it into the hole, hitting the
ignite button and taking a long drag. She coughed and sputtered,
letting out the smoke as she held it between her fingers. Like
dozens of other girls at the factory. Looking at the stinking,
unwelcome protrusion she contemplated her option for a moment
before she threw it on the ground and snuffed it out.
I’m never going to like these stupid
things.

“Well, you’ll never be a
femme fatale
,” A tall
leggy redhead grinned as she elbowed her.

Ava’s look soured like curdled milk on a hot
day.

“Oh come on. I’m only bustin’ your chops. Ain’t
no need to go and act like a humorless geezer. Edythe, Edythe
Shannon.” She held out her hand and Ava contemplated not taking it,
for a moment anyways.

“You new here at the plant, Ava?” Edythe leaned
against the half wall, her hair bright in the sun as light shown
through its strands.

She had it up in victory curls, a look Ava
could never seem to get right, so she just let it down, a hat
pinned in place to give her a look of social
acceptability.

“Second week.” She watched as Edythe bent down
and lit her cigarette, take a long drag and blow it out in a soft,
gentle stream. Just like a movie star.

“I haven’t seen you much around here. Where you
working at?” Edythe’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Ava. Ava knew
that look anywhere.

“Rivet line, working on the wings.” She tried
to remain curt, not wanting to seem too eager for
approval.

“Quality control here. A riveter huh? Like them
posters?” A smile crossed Edythe’s face as the lines in it
relaxed.

“Just wanted to help the war
effort.”

“And make a bit of cash? Me too.”

Just then the whistle blew: two shorts. A five
minute warning. Edythe took another long drag on her cigarette then
snuffed it out, putting the remnants back in her metal
casing.

“Gotta save all we have. Never know when they
will start rationing these too.” She closed the casing with a snap
and nodded at Ava. Edythe turned to walk away from her, her heels
clicking against the pavement of the walkway.

Ava didn’t expect Edythe to acknowledge her
again but the bombshell turned suddenly and looked at Ava, “Some of
the girls are going out tonight. To the dance hall. Wanna join us?
It should be a real good time.”

She was asking her to hang out with the girls,
she had not expected that. She was not the typical shape for the
group of girls Edythe was talking about, thin and beautiful. Ava
was plump and curvy. She was beautiful and she knew it, but she was
nothing like that class of woman. She never expected Edythe to
ask.

“Uh, sure. Why not?”
Keep it cool.

Edythe gave a satisfied smile and walked
off.

A slow smile crept up Ava’s lips until she
could hardly stand it. In town a week and already she was being
invited to things. Perhaps her mother was right. She would have new
opportunities.

***

“You ready?” Gladys asked as they took their
place on the line. Gladys was her bucker today. The burly woman
worked opposite Ava, taking her rivets and smoothing them out. It
was harder work and Gladys’s large size explained why she was doing
the job. Riveting wasn’t as bad as people made it seem, you just
had to have a good eye.

“As ready as I could possibly be, Gladys.” She
tried to force a smile but it was hot work, the shield that she
held over her was all she had to protect her. She had asked for
goggles, but there was a shortage and women in the munitions
factories needed them more. So she was told by the shift
matron.

She took her gun and pressed it to
the metal plate, riveting and working, her bucker sawing and
smoothing off the underside of the rivets. It was hot work, the
lack of ventilation and the heavy machinery causing sweat to spring
up out of her pores and drip through her overalls. Her turban
caught a good deal of the sweat from her forehead. But not enough
and at times the sting of it in her eyes was fierce.
God dammit. Why can’t they turn on a
fan?

When they were finished with one they hit the
button and sent it down the line, only to receive yet another
panel. The work didn’t stack up, for she was a competent riveter
and Gladys a good bucker. But by the end of the shift she was tired
and it took all she had to work panel after panel.

Ava looked up to see a group of soldiers
walking through the plant, the shift matron talking to each of
them. They had a clipboard in their hands, writing notes and
checking things off. She had seen a couple of these groups come
through the factory in the short week and a half she had been
employed. The Cartney Corporation liked to keep its clients
involved in the process of bomber creation.

They were, after all, the ones who flew the
things into harm’s way and dropped the bombs other women were
making them in other factories.

A particular soldier caught her eye, his dark
hair and olive skin something she couldn’t help but stare at. When
his darker than brown eyes met hers she almost dropped her riveter.
He tipped his hat and cocked a smile, looking right back at the
shift matron. It took her breath away and she almost lost her
concentration.

“Dunn, pay attention. We don’t got all day.
Shift’s almost over.” Gladys brought her attention back to the work
at hand.

She went back to work, but his face stayed
there. Burned into her brain.

“You going to the social tonight?” Ava ventured
as she worked through the last half hour of her shift. She needed
something to keep her focused. At attention.

“Down at the dance hall?” Gladys asked her
eyebrow raised.

“Legion is sponsoring.”
Gosh, why is she looking at me like I grew a
third eye?

“Yeah, I’m going. You going?” Gladys was still
suspicious as she looked the riveter up and down.

It left Ava wishing she hadn’t
asked.

“I am. I hear there are lots of
soldiers at those things.” She tried to keep her tone light.
Pop.
Another rivet. Then
another.

“There are, handsome ones too. If you are into
that sort of thing.” Gladys was suddenly gruff. Her eyebrows
drawn.

The burly girl had a personality to
match.

Ava sighed and sent up a silent prayer when her
shift bell rang and another woman came and grabbed the gun from
her, continuing the work in another shift. She almost took out of
there in a run, wanting to shower all the chemicals off her body
before she went back to the boarding house to change.

The grime of the factory got on her
skin. It wasn’t the same as working in laundry, each piece of grit
stuck to her. Clung to her like it was grasping at the straws of
life.
A shower. That is just what I
need.

Ava trotted into the locker room and
immediately began undressing. She started with her turban,
unfolding and shaking it out then moved on to the rest of her
clothing. Grabbing a towel she wrapped it around herself and
hurried into the mass shower along with several other
women.

She was thankful as the hot water washed over
her, taking the soot and dirt from the factory and washing it down
the drain. It was freeing to watch all her work just wash
away.

She tried not to look at the women around her,
but she couldn’t help it. She was curious about the different women
that surrounded her. Most were strong, the war had made them
strong, their soft curves and thin frames had been replaced by
something steadier. More solid. But there was still a good amount
of variance.

On the plumper side of the workers, Ava had
soft curves that were on top of strong, hefty muscle. She wasn’t a
frail thing, but she wasn’t a burly woman either. And her short
stature and slightly upturned nose made her that much more
feminine. A perfect balance of muscle and beauty for
wartime.

With a final rinse Ava finished her shower and
smiled. She felt good. Ready for her first time out.

“Hey Ava, did I get it all?” Edythe called to
her pointing to her face. The woman was absolutely covered in grit.
Her body was thick and curvy, almost as thick as Ava’s but not
quite. It was rather attractive. She tried not to let her stare
linger.

“I think you may want to spend a little more
time in the wash,” She said as she pushed through the women,
grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her.

“There was a little… mishap in quality control
today. Thanks hun.” Edythe went right back to scrubbing.

Ava hurried out of there and stepped into her
street clothing, a smart tweed dress ensemble that wasn’t winning
any awards, but it was smart. Her momma had made it for her as a
gift, right before she had left. She smoothed it out and pinned a
hat to her hair. She only had a few hours before the dance started
and she wanted to make the best of it.

***

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Veronica Hardy spends her time with her dogs, cat,
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Her other BBW works:

Ain’t Settlin’: The Complete
Series

After Hours At The Diner: A BBW
Experience