Page 16 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

When we’ve really, truly needed her—failed relationships, hospital visits, financial loss—she’s come through for us, but not always in the way we want.

As selfish as she can be, she’s never been completely oblivious to our lives.

She’s been the best parent she’s capable of, and maybe I’ve finally gotten to an age where I don’t need more than she’s able to give.

“We’re going to stand by you, Mom. Whatever you need, we’ll be there for you.” I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes mine back.

After dropping my mom off at home, I’m late to the production meeting. Stewart and Felipe are already deep in conversation when I enter, a storyboard on the oversized TV in front of them. The director, the person in charge of wardrobe, and our two writers are also seated at the table.

“I know she tested well and we’re all signed up, but I’m having second thoughts,” Stewart says, rocking back in his chair as I take my seat.

“Second thoughts about who and what?” I take out my computer and set it up on the table. My focus turns to the boards in question as Felipe clicks through them for our first episode.

“We’re having trouble locating clothing designers on the island willing to work with someone Hollyn’s size,” Twyla, the show’s costume designer, says.

“She’s tall, but—” I start.

“It’s not her height,” Stewart says, stepping in. “She’s not even close to a sample size. A pretty face, but she’s overweight. With the camera adding even more weight, Posey is going to look normal sized, and Hollyn will look supersized in comparison.”

“Stew, if that’s your perspective, then you’re not the right person to be doing the day-to-day work with Hollyn and Posey,” I say, and inside, my blood is boiling.

The last thing I’m having is this prick making Hollyn feel insecure from inside the show when we don’t have a clear idea of how the public will react to her outside our bubble.

“I think Hollyn is great,” Tariq, our director says. “Part of the government funding is for highlighting Bellerivian talent throughout the whole production, but we can do that in lots of other ways. Doesn’t have to be clothing for Hollyn.”

“I’m not saying Hollyn isn’t great,” Stewart says, raising his hands. “I said she had a pretty face. What’s her size, like a quadruple-extra-large or something?”

“A North American eighteen,” Twyla says, and I can tell by the way she says it that she’s not impressed with this conversation either, even if it was her job to bring it up to production.

Every time Stew opens his mouth, my mood darkens.

Defending Hollyn’s beauty feels like crossing a line, but I can’t leave his remarks alone.

“Hollyn Davis is more than a pretty face. At least a third of the people in Bellerive will identify with Hollyn based on body type alone. Highlighting diversity, in all its forms, is important to this production.” Not to mention that I think Hollyn is one of the most gorgeous people to ever exist, no matter what size her body is.

From the moment she touched my back at the bar, she’s owned a piece of me that no one else has ever been able to claim.

She was beautiful to me when we were teenagers, and seeing her now, she’s just as exquisite.

I know what her extra weight means. Stability.

Regular meals. A chance to indulge in a way that was denied to her as a kid.

The privilege of aging—one of many things that used to sit heavily on Hollyn when we were younger.

Life expectancy on the island, when broken down by socioeconomic status, isn’t pretty.

I’m sure she doesn’t begrudge her metabolism slowing down, because it means she’s made it this far.

But saying any of that in this room reveals a lot more than I’m comfortable discussing at this point. Half of it doesn’t even feel like mine to tell when it’s so closely connected to Hollyn, a woman I don’t even know anymore.

“Do I need to throw more money at these designers, or what?” I ask, pinning Twyla with my gaze.

“I doubt it, but you can try. They all told me they didn’t want to get into the plus-size market and they didn’t want to give Bellerive, and the world if it’s picked up by Interflix, the wrong idea.” Twyla repositions her computer in front of her.

“Fuck ’em,” I say. “We’ll source clothing from elsewhere for Hollyn.”

“I believe that’s my call,” Stewart says from the other side of the table.

“Not anymore,” I say, staring him down. “I’m the money guy, and the money guy gets what he wants, and I don’t want you anywhere near the day-to-day when your discrimination is so blatant.

Neither of our stars are going to quit or feel diminished in any way because of something happening within our crew. I won’t allow it.”

“Hollyn signed to the show with the understanding that you—” Felipe starts.

“I’ll talk to her,” I say, cutting him off.

The thought of seeking her out sends a shot of adrenaline down my spine, and I try to ignore it.

Fucking Cal was right. Stewart was a dick, and I couldn’t handle it.

Cal will fall on the floor with laughter next time I see him.

“I’m not worried about working together.

” Which is, possibly, the biggest lie I’ve ever told.