Sweet for You: A BBW Billionaire Romance by Harper Ashe Page B

you?”
    “Huh-hi Mary,” Abby stammered, turning the magazine over as she tried to regain her composure. “I picked up one of your flyers about a taste testing. Of desserts. For money.”
    “Of course,” Mary replied pleasantly. “We do have a few spots left. Would you mind answering some questions to see if you qualify for our paid tasting experience?”
    “I guess not,” Abby said, assuming that not answering would be cause for an automatic disqualification.
    “Excellent. I can tell by your voice that you are a woman. Let’s start with your name.”
    “Abigale Branson. But I go by Abby.”
    “Perfect, Abby. Can you give me your age?”
    “Twenty-nine.” Don’t all women fudge their weight – and their age?
    “So far so good, Abby. Your age is definitely within our target demographic.” Abby could tell by the way Mary kept repeating her name that she had a sales background. Frankly, she found the technique to be a little grating.
    “Are you single, married, divorced, or other?” Mary asked.
    “Single.”
    “Fantastic. One more question, Abby, and we’ll be all set. What was the last diet food you purchased and when did you purchase it?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “I know that question may seem a bit intrusive, but it’s one of the qualifying questions our client required us to ask. After all, this tasting experience is for a new line of diet desserts. I’ll understand if you prefer not to share your answer. But without it, I won’t know if you qualify.” Another sales technique: Dangle the carrot and then threaten to yank it back.
    “Who is your client?” Abby asked.
    “Blake Foods. Are you familiar with them? They’re a gourmet foods company based right here in the Pacific Northwest.”
    Abby clutched the Food Fest magazine to her chest. “I’m more than just familiar with Blake Foods; I’m a bit of a fan girl. Will Stephen Blake be at the tasting experience? I would love to meet him.”
    “Mr. Blake doesn’t usually get involved with these kinds of things, but if he does show up, I’ll see what I can do to make an introduction,” Mary promised. “That is, if you qualify. You never answered my last question.”
    “Oh yeah, the last diet food I purchased. Just this morning I bought a sugar-free, non-fat latte,” Abby responded, leaving off the fact that she also bought a chocolate donut.
    “Thank you, Abby, and congratulations! You have qualified for Phase I of our tasting experience. For this first phase, we need about an hour of your time. The pay will be $200 in cash. Are you available next Saturday?”
    “Yes, I am,” Abby said, excited at the prospect of starting her new wardrobe fund.
    “Wonderful. I’ve put you down for one o’clock in the afternoon. Now, if I can get your email address, I will send you directions to the Blake Foods tasting offices.”

Chapter 2
    B y lunch time on Saturday, the Blake Foods product team was frustrated and bored. So far, none of the morning taste testers had offered useful feedback about their diet desserts.
    First was Jeannie, the Nibbler. After nibbling on each dessert, her only comment was, “It tastes fine.” When Mary had asked her to elaborate, she couldn’t seem to find any other words to describe their desserts.
    Next was Brenda, the Gobbler. Brenda was a big girl with a huge mouth who devoured each serving of dessert with gusto. She loved everything she had tried, but couldn’t quite put her finger on why. After Mary said, “Thank you,” and handed the taster her payment envelope, Brenda asked if she could box up a few treats to eat on the bus ride home.
    After Brenda was Chloe the Crier. She was only there because she needed money to pay the utility bill. Evidently her boyfriend had left her for a thinner woman and didn’t pay his share of the bills before he ditched her. As she told her story, she cried and cried just before mentioning that she was diabetic and had forgotten her insulin. Mary paid her and sent her on her way