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Lucy Cunningham's control tops were so tight that her inner thighs hissed like a swarm of cicadas with each step. The rhythm of nylon-on-nylon provided the soundtrack to what was becoming a long and humiliating stroll through the Palm Club's cardio studio, where she was scheduled to meet the man that fate - and her psycho boss - had selected to change her life.Yes, people were staring. But that was because Lucy was wearing a business suit in a sea of spandex. That, and she was the only chubby chick in a room full of skinny people, which was always/imtastic.Lucy adjusted her laptop strap and pasted on a smile. So where was this guy? It was horrifying enough that she'd agreed to a public makeover as part of one of her own marketing campaigns, but now she had to go peeking behind treadmills in a game of find the iiber-trainer? According to the receptionist, he was a hard-to-miss man with short light brown hair, blue eyes, and a little gold hoop