Redesigned (12 page)

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.

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?”

“Scarlett’s party,” Reed says.

“Yeah, okay.” But she doesn’t seem convinced. “I didn’t realize you came to the party, Reed.”

Reed’s eyes are still on me. “I wasn’t there long.”

No, I made sure to run him off. What the hell was I thinking?

“And now we’re on the fashion show committee together,” I add.

“You’re on the fashion show committee?” Brandon asks. His hand rests on the bare skin at the bottom of the wrap. He’s invading my personal space. I find it suffocating and wrong with Reed this close. But to shake Brandon off at this moment is a very bad idea.

Reed’s eyes take on his trademark Death Star laser-glare. To his credit, Brandon doesn’t back down.

“I was appointed by the chancellor as the committee chair.”

“But you’re a mathematics grad student.”

Tina leaves her door-guarding post and walks past us, patting Brandon on the cheek, “Don’t think too hard about it, dollface. You might hurt something.”

Brandon frowns but ignores her.

I have to get out of here. Twisting around, I look up at Brandon. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

“Yes.” And he takes a step forward, yet Reed remains on the threshold.

“Where are you two headed?”

I start to answer, but Brandon jumps in. “I’m not sure that’s your concern.”

Reed’s eyes rest on my face. I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I know I need to get out of this room before I do something I’ll regret. Like throw myself at him. And the way Reed’s looking at me, I don’t think he’ll stop me.

“Reed.” My voice is soft and pleading. “Please.”

He swallows then steps backward out onto the walkway outside our apartment.

Brandon keeps his arm around me until we get downstairs and he opens the passenger door to his BMW.

Brandon McKenzie has money.

This should make me happy, but the only thing I can think about is Reed and how good he looked, and the raw hunger in his eyes. I should be embarrassed. It’s obvious Brandon and Tina saw it too, but I’m not. I’m incredibly turned on.

Reed Pendergraft wants me.

“Earth to Caroline.” Brandon interrupts my thoughts. He’s already left the parking lot and we’re driving down the road. I’ve zoned out for several seconds.

I turn toward him and try to smile. “I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?”

“I asked if you and Reed have dated.”

“What?” I shake my head. You can’t call making out in the hallway of a nonprofit dating. “No.

We haven’t. Besides he just moved here from the East Coast.”

“And you know this, how?”

“He told me when we were introduced at my best friend’s party.” I know how bad this looks and I need to try to salvage the evening. “He came to Scarlett’s party, but he was rude, and I was rude back, and it’s all so stupid now. But since we’re on the committee together, we’ve set up unspoken rules to get along. Especially after our shaky first meeting.”

Brandon remains unconvinced.

“In fact, I quit because of Reed. He’s the most infuriating ass—” The phrase
the lady doth
protest too much
floats into my head. “We don’t get along, let’s leave it at that.”

Brandon turns to face me. “You quit.”

I shrug. “For about five minutes. Until someone on the committee reminded me how great being a committee member would look on my resume. So I stayed, somewhat against my better judgment.”

“How can being on the committee help your resume?”

“Every fall, a designer from New York comes to the show and chooses a student to work in her house for a minimum of three months. The designer is a friend of my advisor so the design students on the committee have a better shot at winning a job at a fashion house in New York. I stayed on because I decided I wasn’t about to let a rude person keep me from reaching for my dreams.”

Part of me is frustrated that I have to explain myself, but I know what he’s asking.
Did I stay
because of Reed
? At
that
moment, I can honestly say I didn’t, but I can’t say the same thing now. Still, Brandon is nice and courteous, unlike Reed, even after dealing with Reed and my reaction to him in the apartment, which is embarrassing when I stop and let myself think about it. No, Brandon is a seemingly nice guy who is still interested despite our rocky start. I need to give this my full attention.

“So that’s your big goal after graduation? To move to New York?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. This year kind of snuck up on me and now I’m scrambling to put a life plan together.” The whole situation is depressing. I don’t really want to move to New York City alone, but I need some goal, some challenge. It seems like a big one to shoot for. “Enough about me. I want to hear about you. What’s your major?”

He shoots me a grin. “Pre-med.”

I sit up straighter. “Wow. That must be a tough course load. You’re a senior, right?”

He nods.

“So when do you find out that you got into med school?”

“My application to Vanderbilt isn’t due until the end of the month. I’m applying to a few other places as well, but in my case, it’s a given I’ll get into Vandy. My father is a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon and went to med school there. With his pull, I’ll get in.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? That you pulled strings to get in?”

He shrugs. “Not really. That’s how life works.”

I study him to see if it’s false bravado, but his opinion seems genuine. I can’t imagine living that way, but then again, I’ve scraped for everything worth having in my life. No one’s pulled strings for me.

But it occurs to me that Brandon comes from a family that’s well off, and he’s on a career path to potentially earn a lot of money. I’ve spent the last year looking for the man next to me, and I’m still stuck on Reed.

Forget about Reed.

When we get to the restaurant, Brandon is a perfect gentleman, opening doors, walking on the outside of the sidewalk next to the parking lot.