Project Date (12 page)

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Authors: Kate Perry

BOOK: Project Date
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I watched him drink his beer, his eyes on mine over the rim of his glass.
Fight him.
The thought made something in the pit of my stomach quiver. In a good way.
Rio set his beer down. “Chicken?”
I shook my head. “Calling me a chicken isn’t going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve used that tactic on my sister all my life.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah.” Props to me for not gagging as I admitted it.
He gazed at me steadily, waiting. I knew he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn’t want to talk about Daphne. She wasn’t relevant.
Fine. Okay, I admit it. I didn’t want to tell him about her because I was afraid he’d want to go out with her instead. Hey, I had precedence. Every guy I brought home while Daphne was home visiting lost interest in me the second they saw her.
Hell, I bet that was why my mom wanted to have Barry at the party, so he could meet Daphne and fall in love. That made me frown.
“You have the most expressive face.”
“Huh?” I asked articulately, facing him.
Rio trailed a finger down my hairline. “I can almost see your thoughts pass over your features.”
I grimaced. I hoped not. My thoughts weren’t very pretty lately.
Get a grip. I pulled up the mental list I composed on the way over and decided to ask him how well he knew Barry. “So Rio—” I frowned. “What kind of name is Rio anyway?”
“What kind of name is Philomena?”
Touché. “Greek. My mom was going through a mythical phase when she had my sister and me.”
“Let me guess. Your sister’s name is Persephone.”
“No.” I scowled into my beer. “She got a normal name. Daphne.”
“I like Philomena better.”
I studied him. He had to be kidding me. “You do?”
He nodded. “It’s more interesting. Complicated but beautiful in its simplicity. Sexy.”
Now I knew he was kidding. “You never said what kind of name Rio is.”
“It’s short for Riordan. I suppose we’ve never officially met.” He stuck his hand out. “Riordan McKenna.”
“Philomena Donovan.” As I slipped my hand into his, goose bumps crawled up and down my arms. The shivery kind that triggers a pool of warmth between your thighs.
Then I frowned as his words registered. “That sounds like an Irish name.”
“I’m Irish.”
I leaned back and gave him an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, I see how you could be Irish,” I deadpanned. It was his mocha skin—not.
“My dad’s Irish but Mom’s Puerto Rican. I get my coloring from her. My eyes and my name come from my dad.” He grinned. “Mom says my eyes were wasted on me, but she’s just jealous.”
I looked into said eyes. Definitely not a waste.
“Mom always wanted a daughter too. She complains that the family is too full of testosterone.”
“Do you have any brothers?”
“No. Just me and my dad.”
I nodded. If Rio’s dad were anything like him, I could believe it.
“Go out with me again.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Go out with me.” He rubbed my knuckles and smiled in an adorably boyish way that seemed like it should be at odds with his manly exterior. “Please.”
Staring into his eyes, I realized I’d forgotten all about Barry, Daphne’s party, and my parents breathing down my back. At this moment, all that mattered was the touch of his MacGyver hands on me and his earnest look that showed just how much he wanted to see me again.
But everything came back with a crash, weighing on me so heavily I could barely breathe. I wanted to shove it all away and go back to enjoying Rio’s company.
Only I had an objective to reach. So I tried to smile. “I’d like that.”
And as much as I meant it, I still felt guilty.
Chapter Eleven
“You can learn a lot about someone by the things he keeps on his desk—provided you can get to his desk.”
—MacGyver, “The Eraser” Episode #24
 
By the next morning the plan was back on with renewed force.
I hadn’t meant to go back to it. Not really. The night before had made me question my motives. How important was this scheme anyway? I was going to all this trouble to win Barry back just to please my parents, and spending time with Rio made me seriously question my logic in wanting Barry back. I admit, my hormones may have had something to do with how I felt about Rio, but they were tingly with excitement and hard to ignore.
Until my dad called.
I don’t know why I didn’t let the call forward to my voicemail. Guess I was in a good mood and thought nothing could bring me down.
I should have known better.
I picked up the receiver on the second ring. “Mena speaking.”
“Hello, Mena.”
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” Unusual for him to call me, much less call me at work, but in my upbeat frame of mind I didn’t think twice about it.
“Your mother and I have been trying to reach Daphne for a couple of days now but keep getting her answering machine. Have you heard from her?”
My spirits drooped a little. Daphne again. “Uh, I spoke to her last night.”
It wasn’t a lie. I did speak to her. I just didn’t tell him it was face to face.
“Hmm.” I could hear him rolling that tidbit of information over in his brain. “This is unlike her.”
I heard the faint worry in his voice; I felt bad for contributing to it, but I’d promised Daphne. As a concession, I said, “Want me to pass her a message when I talk to her next?”
“Yes.” His relief made me feel like I made the right decision. “Tell her to call her mother or me. And tell her I’m going on a nature walk the Sunday after her party and wanted to know if she wants to come along. It’s Sheep Moth mating season, you know.”
I waited for him to ask me if I wanted to come along too. Each second that ticked by made me realize how silly I was for expecting that. He wanted to spend time with Daphne, his favorite daughter.
“I better let you get back to work. You should come to dinner soon, Mena.”
“Yeah, Dad. Sure.” I mumbled my goodbyes and hung up, my chest heavy. Would it have been so terrible for him to ask me if I wanted to watch Sheep Moths mate too?
The thoughts churned over and over in my head for the next hour until I’d decided I had to go ahead with my plan. My parents needed to see that I was as worthy as Daphne. Even if that took Barry. Hey, I’d do what I had to do.
As if my morning hadn’t been absolute crap (at least after my dad called and burst my bubble), I looked up to see Johnny heading down the hall straight for me.
Shit.
And I’d been doing such a great job avoiding him since his email barrage.
I glanced under my desk, knowing it was too late to duck. If I saw him, he saw me. So I sighed and gathered my courage.
By the time he got to me, I had a mild smile pasted on my face. “Hey, Johnny.”
“There she is. Just the woman I wanted.”
I flushed. At least he could have tempered it with a “to see” at the end. But he did it deliberately (his cocked eyebrow was a good indication).
Please, God, don’t let anyone else have heard. I did a quick scan of my work area. Several of the other programmers had popped their heads over their cubicles and were smirking at me.
Guess I wasn’t that lucky.
He sat on the edge of my desk (which creaked so ominously I thought it was going to collapse—it’s only made of plywood, after all) and leaned toward me. “Pucker up, Donovan.”
“Johnny!” I pushed him back and he fell off his perch.
So I pushed him a little too hard. I didn’t feel bad about it in the least, mostly because he was making a spectacle of me in front of my peers. All the other programmers were watching with interest and whispering now.
“Come on, Donovan.” Johnny got to his knees, rubbing his butt, and crawled toward me. “Just one kiss. I’m dying here.”
I stuck out my booted foot to stop him from advancing. It hit his chest and, thank God, he halted. “You know I’m not that kind of girl,” I hissed through my teeth, conscious of all the interested stares we were getting.
He grabbed my ankle and pulled, which made my chair roll toward him. “Come on. Just one.” His eyes lit with an unholy gleam. “Unless you want to go back to your electronics closet.”
“It’s called a server room.” At least he could get his terminology right. I used my other leg to push away from him. “And I’m not going anywhere with you. Let go of my leg.”
He tugged me closer. “Then promise you’ll go out with me.”
“No.” No way was I going to be intimidated into a date I didn’t want.
“I won’t leave until you agree.” His fingers started to slide up the leather of my boot, slipping under my pant leg.
I yelped when I felt him brush my skin. “Fine! Okay. I’ll go out with you. Call me tonight.”
“No.”
I blinked.
He smiled knowingly. “You never answer your phone. We’re setting a date now.”
Sigh. “When?”
“Friday.”
“I can’t. My sister’s in town.”
His smile grew. “Bring her along.”
That was actually a great idea. I could pass Daphne off to him. I beamed. “That’s great. Friday. Meet me at Kells. Nine o’clock.”
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Is your sister a dog?”
“Hell, no. She’s beautiful.”
I guess my answer was firm enough that it appeased him. “Kells on Friday.” He gave me a look that had promise oozing out of it. “I can’t wait.”
As soon as his back was to me, I crossed my eyes. I watched him walk away, mostly to make sure he wouldn’t jump out and attack me when I wasn’t looking.
“Hey, Donovan. What are you? Human catnip?”
I looked up to see the guys all grinning at me. The blue glow of their monitors made them all look demented (it didn’t take much). I did the only thing I could do: I stuck my tongue out at them.
“Oh, yeah, baby. More,” one of them groaned, and they all laughed.
I made a rude gesture with my middle finger and tried to ignore them the rest of the afternoon.
By six, I was so ready to go home. If I had to endure one more joke, I wouldn’t be responsible for what would happen to the engineering team (two words: semiautomatic rifle). I grabbed my stuff and took off for the bus stop.
The bus was late. I stood outside in the drizzle for fifty-three minutes before one showed up. By the time I got home I was pissy and looking forward to a soothing, quiet bath. But then I remembered Daphne was here.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I was so not into dealing with her tonight. But I had to, because I needed my computer and it was in the room she’d commandeered.
Maybe I’d get lucky and she’d be out.
Heading back down the stairs, I quickly unlocked the door in the off chance she’d notice and then took the stairs two at a time. “Daph! You home?”
“Don’t call me Daph,” came the faint reply.
When I got to the top of the stairs I looked left and right. Where the hell was she?
I strode down the hall to the bathroom. As I reached for the door, it swung open.
We both shrieked (mine was more of a surprised gasp). Daphne jumped back until she was pressed against the counter, her hand on her heart.
“Oh my God, Mena! Can’t you make a little noise?”
“I did. And you replied.” My sister’s intelligence was overrated at times if you asked me.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Frankly, I didn’t care what she meant. I needed out of my damp clothes. I strode to my room, closed the door, and stripped. Wrapping myself in my terrycloth robe, I thought about how I could get closer to Barry. Seeing me with Rio seemed to work really well. He’d practically been frothing, he was so disgruntled at the gym. I needed to engineer more of that.
I needed to get him to run into Rio and me.
But to do that, I needed to know his every move. Which meant I needed my computer.
After I bunched my hair into a ponytail and took several calming breaths, I left the bedroom. “Daph!”
“Don’t call me Daph.”
The placid reply came from the living room, so that’s where I headed. She sat on the couch, the TV on, watching some sort of science program.
I cleared my throat. “I need to use my computer for awhile.”
She gave me a sidelong glance. “Are you asking my permission?”
“It’s in my office, which you’ve commandeered.”
“Oh. Yes. Go ahead. I’m thinking of going out for dinner anyway.”
By herself? What was I saying—it wasn’t like she had friends. I almost felt bad enough to suggest going with her. Almost. I came to my senses as soon as I opened my mouth. I couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating than spending an hour with her one-on-one.
Before I could get myself into trouble, I hustled into my office and closed the door.
Then I screamed.
Daphne burst through the door. “What?”
The door whacked my butt and set me sailing onto the bed.
“What is it?” Daphne brandished the remote control. “Is there someone in here with you?”
“Someone’s broken in and robbed me!” I wailed. “My furniture’s all wrong.”
“Oh, is that all?” She dropped her arm. “I rearranged a few things.”
“My furniture?” I scowled at her. “Where’s the crate that had all my old
Wired
magazines?”
She shrugged. “I recycled them for you when I was cleaning up the room.”
“Cleaning up my room?” I looked around.
Shit
. She’d messed up my entire office. I rushed to my computer. “What happened to my desk?”
“I cleared the top and wiped it down.”
“But all my papers ... My notes ... My
stuff
...” I looked around for them, but all I saw was my keyboard and trackball neatly centered on the desktop. I bet if I pulled out a ruler, they’d be perfectly centered on the monitor.
“I went through all the papers and filed them,” Daphne said proudly.
I goggled at her. Was I supposed to be happy about that? “They were already filed and in order.”
She frowned. “They were all over your desk.”
“They were in order all over my desk. How am I going to find anything now?” I put a hand to my forehead and willed myself to calm down. This wasn’t important. I needed to concentrate on Barry.
Then I saw them. Blank walls.
I gasped. “Where are my posters?”
“Oh, I took those down.”
I clenched my fists so I wouldn’t wrap them around her neck. “They were vintage MacGyver posters. Originals. You can’t find posters like that anymore.” I took a deep breath. “Tell me you didn’t throw them away.”
“They were scruffy,” she said defensively.
“Tell me you didn’t throw them away.”
“Fine.” She huffed. “I rolled them up and put them under the bed.”
I dropped to my knees and looked under the bed. Wilting in relief when I found them, I cradled them in my arms and got to my feet. “I can’t believe you took down MacGyver.”
She waved the remote at my bundle. “I can’t believe you’re still into that. You should have outgrown it by now.”
I narrowed my eyes and shifted so she couldn’t touch my posters. She’d better not disparage MacGyver.
Then it registered that she was wielding a remote control. “What were you going to do with that? Turn the burglar off?”
She looked down at it and blushed. “I thought you were in trouble. Obviously I shouldn’t have bothered.” She turned on her heels and marched out.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” I called after her, talking more about cleaning my office than her coming to my rescue. Though that was pretty ludicrous in itself.
I set down the posters on the floor next to my desk and wiggled the trackball until my computer came to life.
Before I began doing anything, I took a moment to center myself (Daphne’s maid service really upset me). I did a mental breakdown of what I needed to do and why.
Primary objective: I needed to know where Barry was going to be to bump into him while I was with Rio.
I tapped a finger against my lips. What was the best way to do that? I opened a browser and pulled up his Web site, but there wasn’t any info on what he’d be doing the next few days.

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