Persia knew that there were more important things in life than dieting down to a size six. She knew that real men didn't care about thin thighs.
And Marsh Randolph was a real man. Still, Persia hoped desperately that he wouldn't connect her with the pink-ruffled butterball that had tripped over him at her cousin's wedding ten years earlier. She'd slimmed down considerably since then, especially when adolescent visions of sugarplums had turned into fantasies of Marsh. He was everything she'd ever wanted - surely she'd get her just deserts!
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