Local Flavour (Book 1, the Local Flavour Series)

Part 1: Shock and Awe

It all started with the pantyhose. If Lucy McLean had to pick a moment that crystallized just how bad things were going, it was that one. The pantyhose incident was the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was her life.

Pantyhose hadn't always been her sworn enemy. She remembered a time when she barely gave nylons a thought, any more than a sock or a scarf. Taupe, nude, sheer black or funky neon leggings — they all used to fit smoothly against her flat belly and stay firmly in place all day, no matter how much running around she did. Now those flimsy little pieces of nylon were the bane of her existence, reminding her of how much she'd changed — and not in a good way.

That was about 30 pounds ago, she thought, grimacing. She glanced at her watch as she pulled at the extra tight waistband of her pantyhose, anxiety twisting in her belly. "Can't you go any faster?" she asked the cabbie, who shrugged. There was no way she'd be on time now. Trent would be pissed.

"Remember when we first met? We were both so skinny," he said the night before, to her complete embarrassment. She knew what he really meant.

It was a sneaky way to say that she had put on weight. He was still exactly the same years after they met — lean and toned, with a swimmer's sleek body. The fact that she had gained weight steadily during the time they were together was a coincidence she didn't want to think about.

Being with Trent was everything to Lucy and she was happy. Wasn't she? So why was she scarfing down ice cream and sneaking cakes and cookies instead of sticking to the low-carb, no-sugar diet he insisted on for both of them? Her wise twin sister Faye would probably have some opinions on that, if asked. So Lucy didn't ask.

She sighed deeply, watching the day blend into night in the busy city. It had been an unusually hot day, fading into a warm spring night. Toronto could be oppressively hot — Lucy still wasn't used to it after years of living there. Earlier that day, she felt like she had walked out of her building and into a blast furnace. She missed her small hometown in Nova Scotia and the snappy salt breeze of the Atlantic on days like that, when the heat of the city was punishing.

She had been with Trent for five years. In the beginning, they got along perfectly and went months without a fight. Lately, it seemed like they were bickering every day. Living and working together didn't help.

He was the one who begged her to come work at his company when her star was on the rise as one of the top crisis communications experts in the city. Now, he acted like she was some pesky intern, always underfoot.

She had worked a 12-hour day making sure the marketing plan was finished. She'd checked off everything on her multiple to-do lists. Still, she felt her nervousness increase, knowing she was late for dinner with him. The fact she was working hard on his priority project wouldn't make a difference.

Finally, they pulled up to the restaurant. Lucy all but threw a wad of bills in the cabbie's direction and took off.

"I'm here," she gasped, making her way to the table after running from the cab in her $400 heels. It was a miracle she didn't roll an ankle. Lucy had perfected a way of running in them she was rather proud of, taking short strides and being mindful of her steps: heel, toe; heel, toe. She loved designer shoes and had a collection to rival Carrie Bradshaw's. But her favourites were a pair of classic pumps, hot red, shiny and gorgeous. They were her lucky shoes. She loved them beyond reason.

Lucy thanked her lucky shoes she arrived on time as she collapsed into a chair. Trent glanced up from the menu, smiled, and got up to kiss her cheek. No sign of irritation on his face. She sighed with relief.

They could still have a good night. She and Trent hadn't been spending much time together and his offer of dinner was a surprise. She hoped there were more surprises in store, like setting a date for the wedding. They hadn't talked about it since they got engaged one drunken night in Ibiza, months ago. The night I proposed to him, she corrected herself with a pang of dismay.