Redesigned (Off the Subject #2)

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Wait.” I say before I come up with a reason why this won’t work. I could say I have a class but both Reed and Lexi have a copy of my schedule. We all shared them the day of our first meeting.

  Reed turns to me and lifts an eyebrow.

  I sink back into the seat and release a heavy sigh. I’m being ridiculous. We’re adults here, albeit, barely. I can sit in a car with him for twenty-five minutes, fifteen of them alone with him. I’m mature, mostly. I can do this. “Never mind.”

  Lexi sits back in her seat and begins to talk about the nonprofit and ideas that came to her for future fundraising.

  I look over the back seat to glance at her. “You really love this, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I feel like I’m actually accomplishing something other than….” Her voice trails off as her eyebrows knit.

  “Other than what?” I prompt.

  “Other than going to classes. Do you ever feel like you’ve spent your whole life in school and you’re dying to get out?”

  Right now, school is the only security I feel. The big bad world scares the hell out of me, but I’m not going to tell her that. Not in front of Reed. “Yeah, sometimes I do.”

  “So when I get to do something like this fundraiser, I feel like I’m making a difference. I’m helping someone.”

  I can’t think of the last time I felt like I made a significant difference in anything. Perhaps I’ll find it helping the kids at the tutoring center. Still, I’m not naive enough to think one pretty dress and an afternoon on a runway are going to change these kids’ lives, but at least it’s something.

  “So you’ve helped with other fundraisers before?” I ask.

  “Tons.”

  “How did you find so many opportunities? You’re only a sophomore in college.”

  Her smile falters.

  “We grew up in Boston.” Reed interjects. “All you have to do is toss a rock across the street and you’ll hit a nonprofit. Lexi was part of a high school club that worked with charities.”

  “Huh.” I’m trying to decide if my brother knew anything about my high school activities, let alone hang out with me. I haven’t seen him since the summer I left. Last I heard, he took off for L.A. with his rock band.

  “So you haven’t done charity work before?” Lexi asks.

  “No.” I’m fairly certain receiving charity isn’t the same thing. “Where did you go to high school?”

  They both remain strangely quiet until Reed answers. “We went to a small Catholic school.”

  Why is Reed answering such simple questions for his sister?

  “So you’re Catholic?”

  His eyebrows twitch. “Do you have anything against Catholics?”

  “Well, no….”

  I clamp my mouth shut. This conversation has derailed, and I don’t see the point of trying to fix it.

  Reed pulls into a parking lot of a three-story building and parks at the curb. “What time is your appointment over, Lexi?”

  “This is a meeting, not a therapy session. There isn’t a predetermined end time.”

  A therapy appointment is an odd comparison.

  He grunts in frustration. “An hour?”

  She grins. “An hour should be sufficient.” She opens the car door. “Why don’t you two go get something to eat while you wait for me?” Then she jumps out and runs into the office building.

  “I think we’ve been set up,” I say as I watch her disappear behind the revolving door.

  “Yeah.” Reed sounds as thrilled as I feel.

  “No offense, but I don’t have time to hang out with you for an hour.” Not that part of me doesn’t want to. Maybe I should just give in to temptation and get him out of my system. Isn’t that what Tina does? Has her fun with a guy and moves on. But Reed doesn’t seem like fling material, and I’m not that kind of girl. Not to mention we still have three weeks to work together. No, giving into temptation is the worst of worst ideas.

  His shoulders tense.

  As he drives to the parking lot exit, and I realize how rude my statement sounded. I sigh and rub my forehead. “Reed, we have to work together for several more weeks, and we both know that something happened between us.” Something happened between us. Talk about the understatement of the century.

  Thankfully Reed doesn’t call me on it. He doesn’t say anything, just hangs onto the steering wheel for dear life.

  “We can ignore that something happened and fight this … feeling we experienced.” I can’t bring myself to say attraction. “Or we can address it and meet it headlong.”

  Reed smirks. “And how do you plan to face it headlong? You’re not proposing we get it out of our system, are you?”

  I’m tempted. Lordy, I’m tempted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, not. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a boyfriend—”

  “You could have fooled me with your date last week.”

  “That was one date, and we both know how well that went. And besides, when you asked me out, you said you hadn’t met many people yet. Wasn’t that your reasoning for asking me out?”

  “Caroline.” He sighs. “Sometimes I’m socially inept.”

  “You think?” I try to keep a straight face, but I can’t help laughing. “The high and mighty Reed Pendergraft admitting he’s imperfect. I do believe that’s the eighth wonder of the world.” I tap my chin with a finger. “Or is it a sign of the apocalypse?”

  To my surprise, he actually laughs. “Are you calling me the Antichrist?”

  I laugh again. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Then maybe you could have a chat with some of my Algebra 101 students and convince them otherwise.” He laughs. “But then again, maybe it’s better if they have the fear of God in them.”

  “Or in this case, I think you mean fear of Satan.”

  “True enough.” A dazzling smile spreads across his face, and I realize this is the first time I’ve seen him actually smile. Sure, I’ve seen smirks and sarcastic grins and plenty of derisive looks, but Reed actually looks happy.

  Could it be that he’s so cross all the time because he’s unhappy?

  Is it my business if he is?

  But now that the seed has been planted in my head, it takes root like a fast-growing weed. I like this side of him, even if it’s only a glimpse. But seeing a side of Reed that I like to go with the hot chemistry we share is dangerous territory. “We’ve gotten off point.”

  “Have we?” he asks, trying to look innocent.

  “It’s obvious that there’s something between us, but the truth is we have nothing in common.”

  “Don’t you mean I don’t have a big enough paycheck?” His cold tone is back. Damn my mouth.

  “I was out of line to say that at Scarlett’s party. I didn’t mean it.” I lean toward him and the musky scent of his cologne fills my nose. I fight the urge to move closer. “You had just suggested that we go out because you were desperate. I was hot and cranky. Not a good combination for me. Throw in hungry and you have the trifecta of bitchiness. I’m not proud of it, and I’m truly sorry I said it.”

  He’s silent for several seconds. “Apology accepted. I have to admit, it was probably the worst pickup line in history.”

  I laugh. “I suggest you mark it out of your playbook.”

  He waves his hand in the air. “Consider it gone.”

  “I hope we can get along for the rest of our time working together. You’re kind of fun when you take the stick out of your ass.”

  “Do you realize your accent is thicker when you curse like that?” His grin broadens.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I like your drawl.”

  “You could have fooled me. I think your observation of my accent the night of Scarlett’s party was neutral, with a hint of insult.”

  “Let’s just say you weren’t the only cranky one that night.”

  “Why were you cranky?”

  “Do you really think that’s any of your business?” His
words are confrontational but he looks amused.

  “I told you my reasoning.”

  “Yeah, you were hot. Hot for Dylan.”

  “You’re not being fair. I’d wanted to go out with Dylan for months. I’d only met you and you practically compared going out with me to folding your laundry.”

  His usual seriousness returns, but he’s not confrontational. “There’s more to the Dylans of the world, Caroline. Be careful.”

  I should be insulted over his lecture, but he sounds genuinely concerned. “I’m not a virginal maiden, Reed. I’ve had my share of worldly experience.”

  “But not with guys like him.”

  “And what exactly do you mean by guys like him?”

  “Looks, money, charisma.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “Caroline, I’m serious.” And he is. A part of me hopes that it’s jealousy rearing its ugly head, but I can see that’s not it. Worry lines crinkle his forehead. “How many guys have you dated that came from old money like Dylan?”

  My eyes narrow. “How do you know Dylan comes from old money?”

  “How do you?” His condescending tone has returned.

  I lift my chin. “It’s common knowledge on Southern’s campus.”

  “Not everything about people is common knowledge.” We’re both quiet and then Reed grins. “Case in point: if the fact that heat makes you irritable had been common knowledge, I never would have risked asking you out.”

  “True enough.”

  Reed pulls into the student parking lot. “Tell me where your car is, and I’ll drop you off.”

  There’s no way in hell I’m letting Reed see my clunker car even if his isn’t that much better than mine. “Thanks, but I’m inspired to start working on my designs for the show. I think I’ll head over to the design lab for awhile. ”

  He pulls up next to the curb, Andrew Jackson’s granite likeness watching over us. “What I said before.” He pauses and runs his hand over his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Which part?”

  “I … uh….” he stutters. “Insulting you.”

  “That narrows it down to about twenty incidents.”

  He cringes.

  “Don’t worry. I’m teasing. I’ve realized that you have a way of insulting people without even trying.”

  He looks guilty, and his mouth opens to say something then closes.

  “It’s a gift. You should be proud.” I look into his eyes with mock seriousness. “But wield your power carefully.”

  An ornery glint fills his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He turns toward me and his playfulness slides off. His eyes darken as he inches closer.

  I’m pulled toward him.

  His mouth parts, and my gaze is drawn to it, thinking about our kiss earlier. I suddenly want to lick his bottom lip. I want to take off his shirt and see what’s underneath. He hinted he didn’t have abs like Dylan, but I doubt he’s flabby either, despite the loose dress shirts he wears. Perhaps it’s the way his pants hang from his hips.

  I want to go out with him and do so, so much more than I ever let myself do on a first date. Or my first five dates.

  But Reed and I together are a bad combination, the money issue aside. We’re like fire and ice. Sure, that’s fun now, but soon enough the newness wears off and if you’re lucky, all you’re left with are heated arguments and an empty, loveless marriage. If you’re not lucky, the police and domestic disturbance charges are involved. No, Reed Pendergraft is off limits. I need to remember that.

  The playfulness has left his face, and his eyes are on my lips again.

  Just one taste….

  No. “What happened today was a mistake.” I blurt out.

  Confusion scrunches his face before he realizes I mean our kiss.

  “Reed, I’m actually beginning to like you. And we have to work together on the show. Can you imagine how tense it would be if we went out and it went horribly wrong? We think it’s bad now. You know, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and all of that.” But it’s his reaction I’m most worried about.

  He hesitates, still looking in my eyes, as though he’s searching for something. Finally, he turns to face the windshield. “Yes, you’re right. We’re incompatible.”

  I’d expected him to protest or try to convince me otherwise. He wasn’t supposed to agree with me. “Yes, we would be a disaster.”

  Before I change my mind and attack him, I open the door and scramble out of the car, eager to get some distance between us.

  I walk across the campus, fighting the cold wind, and I’m certain of one thing: Reed and I are the biggest liars in the world.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, jostling for space with Tina. It’s times like this I miss Scarlett even more than ever. She rarely spent time in front of the mirror. The space was usually all mine.

  “Who are you going out with?” Tina asks, swiping mascara on her lashes.

  “Brandon McKenzie.”

  “Don’t know him.” She shrugs.

  “And who’s your date?” I’m not sure why I’m asking. The odds are five-to-one that she’ll never go out with him again.

  She gives me a mischievous grin then fluffs her short brunette hair. “This one’s different than my usual dates. I’m going out with a grad student.”

  A ball forms in the pit of my stomach. “Oh, really?” I try to sound casual. Surely, I’m wrong. Tina never dates guys from the math department. She says they’re all geeks.

  “I even broke one of my rules for him.” She pulls the hem of her shirt down, exposing more cleavage. “He’s a new grad student who moved here from out East. And he is hot.”

  I’m so disgusted that I can’t bring myself to ask her who her date is. I know. I’m not disgusted with Tina. Good for her for bagging a grad student. I’m disgusted with the high and mighty Reed and his lectures about who I’m going out with when he stoops to going out with Tina.

  Tina and I have a tenuous relationship at best. Granted, she has tough shoes to fill. Scarlett and I are best friends, and Tina has no illusions of getting that close to me, not that she wants to. She has her own friends who she parties with every weekend and occasionally on weeknights. But lately, her behavior has gotten wilder and more out of control. I’m surprised she hasn’t flunked any classes yet, but midterms are approaching.

  She puts her hand on her hip and juts it out, her eyebrows raised. She’s waiting for me to say something.

  “That’s awesome.”

  She misses my sarcasm. “I know, right?” She bumps into me as she leaves the bathroom.

  I stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I look good, but I know I’m pretty. I’m naturally blonde. I have blue eyes and high cheekbones. My looks garnered me lots of attention back in high school, especially after several jealous popular girls spread rumors that I was a slut. But it’s different now. No one knows my past, and I’m careful to wait a minimum of five dates before I have sex. My reputation is important if I want to marry a boy from a good family. I’m careful to preserve it.

  After my past experiences, I always get nervous before a new date, worried the guy will turn out like half of my dates in high school, and Dylan last week. Or now that I think about it, like most of my dates over the last few months. Do guys think because I’m a senior now that I’ll just hop into bed with them? But my nervousness has never stopped my excitement before a date, the ball of nerves that twines in my stomach. So why am I not excited now? Brandon’s cute. He’s witty. I don’t know if he has money, but I don’t care.

  Because if I’m honest, I want Reed to go out with me, not Tina.

  Oh, Caroline. You had your chance. Besides, it would never work out.

  The doorbells rings, shaking me out of my musings. I hope it’s Brandon, but only because I can’t handle seeing Reed right now. But then again, when can I handle seeing Reed
?

  It’s my lucky night. Brandon walks into the living room wearing a dark suit and black tie. His dark hair is styled and he looks good. Very good. His eyes scan my body, but not in a leering way like Dylan. I’m not surprised he’s looking. When he told me we were going to St. Thomas Grill, I pulled out my black cocktail dress. The spaghetti straps show off my shoulders and the dip in the front shows cleavage without making me look like a slut. The skirt is flouncy with Georgette ruffles—enough to add a bit of whimsy but not enough to make me look hippy. I’m wearing strappy black heels that show off my red polished toes. I hold my black velvet wrap in one hand and my vintage beaded purse in the other.

  Brandon shakes his head in wonder. “Caroline, you look beautiful.”

  I smile. “You look quite nice yourself.” Maybe this night’s going to work out after all.

  Brandon watches me in silence for a moment before he startles and reaches to take my wrap from me. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  Tina stands next to the open door, and the smirk on her face tells me she’s about to make some smartass remark. The guys she goes out with usually don’t even open the door.

  And then Reed shows up.

  And damned if he isn’t drop-dead gorgeous.

  He’s wearing a pair of jeans and fitted T-shirt with a leather jacket. His shirt clings to his chest and stomach and it’s obvious that Reed Pendergraft doesn’t have an ounce of flab on him.

  I realize I’m gawking at him, but he’s staring at me too and it’s not the look of a merely curious man.

  Tina hangs on the door, her head swiveling from one of us to the other. “Do you two know each other?” She flicks her wrist, pointing at me, then Reed.

  “I was about to ask the same thing,” Brandon says, draping the wrap around my shoulders, then pressing his arm around my back. Brandon has staked his claim. Thank God human males have evolved past peeing to mark their territory.

  “I ... uh….” I stutter.

  Tina’s eyes narrow at me. “How do you know a grad student in the math department?”