Your Big Break Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2 - We Need to Talk

  Chapter 3 - It’s Not You, It’s Me It’S Not You, It’s Me

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7 - GirlS’ Night In

  Chapter 8 - I Don’t Deserve You. I Actually Deserve Someone Much Better Than You

  Chapter 9 - Starbucks Redux

  Chapter 10 - Gretchen Guy-Getter

  Chapter 11 - The Dearly Deserted

  Chapter 12 - You Weren’t This Fat When We Started Dating

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14 - Trey’s Tips

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17 - This Hurts Me AS Much AS It Hurts You

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19 - Seeing Other People

  Chapter 20 - In Another Time or Place, This Could’’ve Worked Out

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22 - SODS, SOBS, and SOS

  Chapter 23 - I Think We Should Date Other People

  Chapter 24 - The Male-Female FriendShip Parameters

  Chapter 25 - I Sound Like My Parents

  Chapter 26 - Hey, Jude

  Chapter 27 - Here’s Hoping He’s Not: a Psycho, a Nerd, or “a Little Out of Shape”

  Chapter 28 - You Were Just Being Honest

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30 - I’m Still Getting to Know MySelf, Finding Out Who I Am AS a Person

  Chapter 31 - The Five Stages of Breakup Hell

  Chapter 32 - Everybody Lies

  Chapter 33 - Dumping Jason Dutwiler, Part 2

  Chapter 34 - She’S Got Some Nerve

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36 - Personally Involved

  Epilogue

  Why everyone is raving about Johanna Edward’s debut novel

  The Next Big Thing

  “In this saucy sendup, a feisty young Memphis publicist . . . drops the pounds, but learns that fame has a cost . . . and that being skinny isn’t always pretty.” —US Weekly

  “Edwards addresses image issues with wit and candor. . . . Fans of Jennifer Weiner’s realistic female protagonists will find a new favorite here.” —Booklist

  “Reality TV meets actual REALITY! Take a bunch of women struggling with weight, body image, and relationship problems and lock them in a house with a gym, a trainer, a pantry full of treats and nothing but time, and what you get is a perfect combination of catfights and self discovery. In The Next Big Thing, Johanna Edwards asks us to wonder what life on such a reality show would be like, and through the eyes of her feisty herioine Kat Larson, we get a pretty good idea of the ups and downs. But more importantly, we get a very clear picture of the diversity and humanity of women who are dealing with their own feelings about their weight issues, as well as society’s hang-ups. Kat is as flawed as any of us, and on her journey discovers that her flaws actually have little to do with her size and more to do with her attitude. Funny, but also honest with some real power, The Next Big Thing is a very entertaining read that makes you think. Great fun!”

  —Stacey Ballis, author of Inappropriate Men

  “A deliciously dishy tale of life behind the scenes of reality television. Peeking into the lives of contestants on From Fat to Fabulous , Johanna Edwards has created a cast of characters who keep you rooting for them from start to finish (as well as a few you’d like to strangle!). Protagonist Larson is a sympathetic and complex plus-size gal who gives readers a real feel for what it’s like to be an overweight woman in America. While poignant and touching, Kat’s plight keeps readers laughing throughout this delightful tale.”—Jennifer Coburn, author of The Wife of Reilly

  “Loved it!”

  —Melissa Senate, author of Whose Wedding Is It Anyway?

  “With tell-all honesty, pitch-perfect sass, and a generous and tender heart, Johanna Edwards brings to life the public burdens of being overweight . . . Like reality TV, The Next Big Thing is highly addictive.”—Jennifer Paddock, author of A Secret World

  “More addicting than any reality show, The Next Big Thing is a terrific read that kept me laughing and cheering until the last page.”—Sara Mlynowski, author of As Seen on TV

  “From the first page to the last, Johanna Edwards’ debut novel is fabulous fun. I couldn’t help cheering for Kat as she comes face-to-face with the reality behind TV.”

  —Jennifer O’Connell, author of Bachelorette #1 and Dress Rehearsal

  Also by Johanna Edwards

  THE NEXT BIG THING

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3,

  Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland

  (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017,

  India

  Penguin Group (NZ), cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Copyright © 2006 by Johanna Edwards

  eISBN : 978-0-425-20784-0

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley trade paperback edition / March 2006

  Berkley is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  This book has been cataloged by the Library of Congress

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To James Abbott

  AcknowledgmentS

  I am extremely grateful to all the readers who took a chance on a new author and picked up a copy of The Next Big Thing. You guys made my lifelong dream come true and put me on the best-seller lists for nearly three months! Thanks also to everyone who took the time to e-mail or come to one of my readings. Your kind words and encouragement have meant the world to me.

  Many thanks to my savvy agent, the awesome Jenny Bent. Without her, I’d still be sitting around waiting for my big break. My undying gratitude to the phenomenal team at Berkley: Leslie Gelbman, Kara Cesare, and Tess Tabor. A big thank you to the Penguin marketing and sales force for working so hard to get my books out there. And, of course, many thanks to Allison McCabe, who got the ball rolling in the first place.

  Publication is a crazy time. I owe a lot to my family and friends who put up with me during the most neurotic year of my life (and that’s saying a lot!) and who offered much love and
support. Thanks especially to my parents, Paula and Les, and my sister, Selena, as well as all my aunts, uncles, and grandparents, and cousins.

  Two people were very instrumental in helping this book see the light of day. I am grateful to James Abbott, who read and critiqued both Your Big Break and The Next Big Thing on incredibly short notice. Thanks to my Boston buddy, Susanne Enos, for giving me the scoop on Beantown.

  I am also grateful to: Candy Justice, Chris Allen, Christy Paganoni, Virginia Miller, Chris Carwile, Karin Gillespie, Stephen Usery, Dr. Cynthia Hopson, and Dr. David Arant. Thanks to everyone in Memphis for rallying around a hometown girl and showing your support.

  Last, and definitely least, to all the boys who ever dumped me, rejected me, or otherwise broke my heart—thanks for the inspiration.

  1

  YBB INC. EMPLOYEE RULE #1

  Always meet in a public place.

  Coffee shops are ideal.

  Never go anywhere that serves alcohol.

  I am a liar. My job forces me to be one.

  Every day I spin falsehoods, tell people what they want to hear.

  “Of course he still finds you sexually attractive!” He just finds you sexually attractive in that “we’re better off as friends” way.

  “It’s not you. Yes, I know everyone says that, but it’s so not you.”

  “No, he doesn’t hate you.” He just never wants to see you again as long as he lives.

  “Your receding hairline and beer belly have nothing to do with why she left.”

  I say these things because that’s my job, to sugarcoat the bad stuff.

  I even lie to my family.

  My parents have no idea what I do for a living. They think I write promotional copy for websites. It’s not that I’m embarrassed by my job, but, well, my folks are kind of old-fashioned. Especially my mother. She’s kissed three men in her entire life and was a virgin until she married, a fact she reminds me of on a semi-regular basis. If she knew I made my living busting up relationships, she’d be crushed, mortified. I made up the whole Web thing to buy time, so I could slowly introduce my parents to the idea of Your Big Break Inc. But the trouble with lying is you can’t tell just one fib and be done with it. You have to make up more lies to cover your original lie.

  Long story short, I still haven’t gotten around to telling my parents the truth.

  Maybe I am embarrassed.

  But as crazy as it seems, I took this job because I wanted to help people. Breakups are horrific and devastating—Your Big Break Inc. makes them civilized. I do whatever I can to help people transitioning from couplehood to single life. But good intentions or not, the fact remains: I am a liar.

  “Are you Jason Dutwiler?” I ask, entering the downtown Boston Starbucks and locating a forlorn-looking man nursing a cappuccino.

  “I was expecting a guy,” he says, eyeing me up and down.

  I clear my throat. “Jason Dutwiler?” I ask again, and he nods.

  “My assistant said I had a meeting with someone named Danny,” he explains. “I thought it’d be a man.”

  “Dani,” I tell him, extending my hand. “It’s short for Danielle.”

  Jason is clean-cut with light brown hair and eyes. He works as a CPA at FleetBoston. According to my notes, he’s thirty-six years old, but I find that hard to believe. He looks much younger.

  “I never thought Lucy would leave me for a girl,” he says, amazed.

  I smile and slide into the seat across from him. I’m carrying a small, black duffel bag, which I place beside my feet. “She’s not leaving you for anyone, Jason. It’s not about that.” I pause. “Lucy’s at a crossroads in her life,” I begin.

  “Crossroads? Give me a fucking break.” He groans. “Did Lucy tell you to say that?” Before I can answer, he rushes on. “Forget it. I’ve been putting up with her BS for months now.”

  He takes a sip of his cappuccino and we stare at each other.

  “She used to be fun, the kind of girl you take to a Red Sox game and then down a few beers with, you know?” he finally says to me.

  A CPA enjoying beer and baseball? The way Lucy described Jason, I’d expected a hardcore number-cruncher whose idea of a good time was analyzing cash-flow statements.

  “Now she’s gone all Gwyneth on me,” Jason continues.

  “Gwyneth?”

  “As in Paltrow. Lucy’s obsessed with wheatgrass shooters and yoga and not eating meat. She wants to find herself.” He rolls his eyes. “She wants to be ‘at one with the universe.’”

  I don’t have the heart to tell him that what Lucy really wants to be at one with is her new acupuncturist, Nate. “Jason doesn’t do it for me anymore,” Lucy had confided during our initial consultation. “He’s too clingy. And, physically speaking, he’s not what I want. Nate, on the other hand . . . Nate’s amazing. He practices tantric sex.” And, besides, I’m not sure how much I buy Lucy’s hippie vegan routine. Last time I talked to the girl, she was preparing to become an actress.

  I shake the image out of my mind. I’m supposed to be giving Jason the cold, hard facts. “Okay, I’ll be blunt,” I say, locking my eyes on his. “Lucy’s fallen out of love with you.”

  He looks like he’s about to vomit.

  I place a reassuring hand on his arm. “I know this is hard to hear, but, unfortunately, it’s the truth.”

  “When?” he asks in a voice barely above a whisper. “When did it happen?”

  “She’s felt this way for several months now.”

  “My God,” Jason breathes, his body visibly tense. “And she doesn’t even have the nerve to tell me? She sends some friend to do her dirty work?” He swats my hand off his arm.

  “She couldn’t find the words,” I say. “She can’t bear to hurt you.”

  The truth is, Lucy’s reached the point in the relationship where all she wants is a clean break. And she doesn’t have the guts to tell him to his face. Most of our clients are cowards.

  “What are you, her spokesperson or something?”

  “In a way, yes.” This is always the worst part. There’s no easy way to explain what I do, so I usually come right out with it. “Here,” I say, handing Jason my business card.

  Your Big Break Inc.

  “It’s not you, it’s us!”

  Danielle M.

  Communications Specialist

  (617) 55-LEAVE

  “I work for a breakup service. Lucy was afraid things might get complicated, so she hired me to help sort through the details,” I explain as Jason stares blankly at the card.

  “She hired you to dump me?”

  I nod. His jaw drops.

  “I didn’t even know you could do that!”

  “Your Big Break Inc. is one of the first companies of its kind. There was a huge article on us in The Boston Globe last month. Did you see it?”

  “No, I did not,” Jason snaps. He runs his hands through his hair, the shock on his face palpable. “Let me get this straight—you make your living dumping people?”

  “Yes.” And ending friendships. We’ll even quit your job for you if the price is right. Your Big Break Inc. offers all sorts of services: Breakup Recovery Kits, personally crafted Dear John letters, counseling phone calls, property and pet retrieval, and guilt gifting (the dumper placates the dumpee by sending him or her specially arranged packages of baked goods, balloons, and massage certificates). Our fees range from $25 to $350—a real bargain, if you think about it.

  “This is fucking unbelievable!” Jason exclaims loudly. A few people turn to stare.

  “My job is to help you two transition to single life while remaining on good terms.” He seems too stunned to speak, so I continue. “Lucy had some things she wanted to tell you, and she felt it best to put them in a letter.”

  I give Jason the envelope and he sets it down on the table. “I’ll read it later,” he mumbles.

  In actuality, every word of the letter was written by me. I interviewed Lucy extensively about why she wanted to end thin
gs, and then reworded her answers into what I hope is a concise, heartfelt good-bye note. It’s a tough balance. You have to be straightforward and honest, while letting them down easy. I pick up my duffel bag. “Lucy also wanted me to give you these,” I say, holding it out to him.

  Jason glances at the bag suspiciously.

  “Go on, take it,” I prod. “It won’t bite.” But it may sting a bit.

  He unzips it and peers inside, pulling out Your Big Break Inc.’s official Breakup Recovery Kit, which I prepared for him this morning. There are a few standard items that go into every box: a list of the fifty best breakup songs, a guide to Boston’s least date-friendly restaurants (the goal is to keep the dumpee away from as many happy couples as possible), a selection of counseling resources, and a mix of humorous and serious articles about getting over a broken heart.

  Each Breakup Recovery Kit is tailor-made to fit the individual who’s receiving it. We add as many little extras—aka guilt gifts—as the budget allows. In Jason’s case, Lucy sprung for a pair of tickets to a Red Sox game and a DVD of Die Hard.

  Jason digs through the duffel bag, locating a copy of Under the Table & Dreaming. “My Dave Matthews CD!” he exclaims. “I’ve been looking for this forever.” He retrieves a boxed set of The Sopranos DVDs, a framed photo of the once-happy couple, and a dog-eared guidebook about northern California. “This was our first big trip together,” he says, looking pained. “I took Lucy to San Francisco for her thirtieth birthday. I told her I loved her in front of the Golden Gate Bridge.” His voice is quavering.

  “Jason,” I begin, “do you need me to—”

  He holds up a hand to silence me. “No, I can do this.” He continues digging through the bag, taking stock of everything. “I see she’s kept all the jewelry I’ve given her.”

  They always do.