Free Meant for Me by Faith Sullivan

investor.” His tone is all business, but the way he’s looking at me sure isn’t. He leans in closer, making me take a step back. He seizes the opportunity, brushing past me to enter the room. “Why aren’t you ready?”
    “Maybe because you never even told me about it,” I huff, exasperated by how he keeps leaving me out of the loop.
    “Well, you’d better hurry. They’re meeting us in the hotel restaurant, but you look like you could really use a shower, and I have to brief you on some stuff before we go down,” he mutters, plopping on the unmade bed before reaching for the remote.
    “Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel special.” I stick my tongue out at him. “You think you’re just gonna wait in here until I’m done? I don’t think so.”
    “Ivy, chill. Trust me, it’s better if we walk in together and present a united front. These kinds of meetings are all about appearances. Even though you’re not all that thin anymore, we can still wow them by making an entrance they won’t soon forget.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen as he flips between MTV and the E! Channel.
    “So you’re selling my body as well as my talent, huh? If I had known, I would’ve made sure to reschedule that boob job I keep putting off.” I roll my eyes, sickened by how superficial he is. If this is how L.A. operates, I don’t want any part of it.
    “Actually, your boobs look fucking fantastic. That’s the one thing your pregnancy has going for it. That and the practically see-through shirt you’re wearing.” He leers at me as I try to cover myself by crossing my arms in front of my protruding chest. I wince slightly. They’re still so sensitive. Eric would know how to make them feel better, but Eric’s not here.
    “Do you intend to be a perv the whole time I’m in L.A.?” I glare at him as I bend over to rustle through my suitcase.
    “With a view like that? Hell yeah!” He whistles, nudging the polished toe of his shoe against my ass.
    “Will, knock it off,” I cry, standing up. “I’m serious.”
    “So am I,” he says, loosening his tie. “You always imagined what it would be like to have a hotel room all to ourselves. Prom night might’ve come a little later than expected, but I’m here now.”
    “You’re a real jackass, you know that?” I give him a shove, and he falls dramatically across the bed.
    “Ivy, you’re so boring,” he chuckles. “Don’t you ever lighten up? A little harmless flirtation never hurt anybody.”
    “Yeah, except the people involved,” I mumble, slipping my toiletry bag over my shoulder. “Will, get it through your thick skull. I’m not into you anymore. I’ve moved on, and I don’t intend to waste another second of my life flirting with you.”
    He grunts when I slam the bathroom door and doesn’t respond with any more witty remarks. Good. If he thinks he’s going to mess with me the entire time I’m here, he’s sadly mistaken. He should be kissing my swollen feet for coming all the way out here instead of baiting me into arguments he knows he can’t win. I’m not his plaything anymore. I never was.
    After a rushed shower with terrible water pressure, I turn on the blow dryer. It’s as steamy as a sauna in here, but there’s no way I’m giving Will the satisfaction of stepping outside so he can fondle me with his eyes. He’d love to make me uncomfortable since I only have a fluffy towel wrapped around my body.
    “Ivy, are you almost done in there? We have like fifteen minutes, and I really need to talk to you.” Will’s no longer perched on the bed. His voice sounds way too close, like he’s standing right outside the bathroom door.
    “Well, I still have to do my makeup. So talk.” I slip a billowy sundress over my head. It’s one of the few dressy items I own that still fits me. I just hope it’s trendy enough for L.A. because it’s ultra comfortable and it camouflages my baby bump. I don’t know if Will told our