Project Produce (28 page)

“Well, I’m not gonna miss this dump. Mmm, mmm, no way. No more cold showers and freezing my ass off from those drafty windows. I was born for luxury, baby, but I’ll take Eduardo and call it a day.” She giggled.

“You’ll probably forget all about me, now that you’re going to be famous.” I turned my head to the side to look at her.

Her eyes met mine. “Honey, I could never forget you.” She squeezed my hand, then got up and wrapped another one of her belongings in newspaper and added it to the box. “Besides, we’ll still see each other. Eduardo’s apartment is easy to get to in the city. It’s not like I’m moving to Timbuktu.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be busy recording, which I’m so proud of you, by the way, and when you’re not doing that, You’ll be spending all your time with Eduardo.” I grabbed the roll of packing tape and slapped a piece across the top of the box and met her gaze. “He’s crazy about you, you know.”

A dreamy smile crossed her face. “I know.” She winked. “But we girls gotta stick together,
chica
.” She labeled the box with permanent marker, her bangle bracelets clanking away. “Besides, Eduardo’s not the only one who’s got it bad.” She arched a brow. “Your Hot Britches is a goner when it comes to you.”

My heart did a funny little lurch, but I ignored it. “Oh, please. I’m not naive enough to think what we have is permanent. He’ll grow bored. They always do. For that matter, who’s to say I won’t. My track record stinks, you know. I’m not saying that I’m not having fun with Dylan, but I still don’t want to be in a relationship.”

I headed to the kitchen, pulled out a pitcher, and mixed up a batch of Bahama Mamas. “He knew I couldn’t afford this place on my own, so he offered up his apartment. Trust me, I tried to find another place, but everything reasonable is already taken with school still in session. I had no choice but to take him up on his offer.” I handed her a glass of the fruity drink. “The end of the semester is only a little over two months away. I’m sure I’ll have better luck when students head home for the summer.”

“Such a cynic.” She shook her head, taking the glass and holding it up. “To new beginnings and being happy, even if you’re too blind to see what’s right in front of you.” She clunked her glass against mine, then took a sip.

“Not a cynic, Gloria, a realist. My past has taught me that relationships don’t last. I’m simply not setting myself up for heartache this time.” I took my own sip, letting the rum linger on my tongue before I swallowed. “Believe me, I plan on enjoying every minute I have with Dylan, but when school’s out, so am I. Enough about that. Now that we’re done packing up your stuff, care to help me load up mine?”

She stared at me long and hard then sighed. “I’ll let you off the hook for now, but one day, you’ll see that I’m right.” Her big brown eyes grew misty. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Me too.” I hugged her tight, ignoring her previous comment.

“So let’s get busy,
chica
. I gotta be at the studio in two hours.” She grinned from ear to ear. “The studio. I love saying that.”

I laughed. “You’re gonna make an awesome record, babe.”

“Damn right I am.”

“Now,
that’s
something to drink to. To the future. Don’t be scared and just go for it, baby.” I held up my glass.

“Hell, yeah.” She clunked her glass against mine once again and then downed the rest of her drink.

I followed suit, but my mind wouldn’t stop repeating Gloria’s words that Dylan had it bad for me. She couldn’t be right, could she? Relationships and I were such a bad combination. I had no clue how to handle a “real” relationship. I sure as heck hoped she wasn’t right or this could be my biggest disaster yet.

Only time would tell.

***

Gloria was so wrong.

“I saw an apartment in the newspaper that I think I might be able to afford.” I rolled over in bed and faced Dylan. We’d been living together for a while now, and so far, everything had worked out fine. We meshed as though we’d been living together for years. The sex was phenomenal, and we had so much fun just hanging out together. No strings attached, no possibility for heartache. Nothing heavy, just enjoying being with each other.

He ran his finger down my bare arm, then lifted his heavy-lidded gaze to mine. “What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing, it’s just a total bachelor’s pad, you know what I mean?”

His finger stilled. “So redecorate. I’m not tied to anything but that hammock.” He grinned, then puckered up and gave me a fish kiss.

“Cute. But what if you don’t like my taste?”

He stared at my lips. “Oh, I like your taste just fine.”

“Dylan, I’m serious.”

“Okay.” He grinned. “I liked the things you pointed out in the store the other day. Besides, you said you decorated your parents’ store, so you have some experience, right? I was thinking about hiring someone anyway, so why not you?”

“Well, I do have a bit of experience, and I suppose I’ve sort of gotten to know what you like... oh, never mind. It’s a stupid idea.” I rolled the other way and got out of bed, then headed for the closet. Decorating his apartment somehow didn’t feel temporary. I pulled on my jeans and sweater with my back to him.

His arms snaked around me, and he kissed the side of my neck, cutting off my speech. “It’s not a stupid idea, Mac. You probably know me better than anyone.”

“Really?” I paused for a minute, then leaned my head back and closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his arms around me. “I mean, not the part about knowing you better than anyone, but about the redecorating.”

“Yes to both.” He chuckled against the top of my head. “And you can start by getting us a couch. I’m tired of watching TV on the floor.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to sit on the floor with me,” I said with my eyes still closed, feeling his heart beat against my back and letting the musky scent that was pure Dylan engulf my senses. “But I’m sure as heck not sitting my big ole butt in that excuse for a hammock again, I’ll tell you that.”

“Your butt’s not big, it’s perfect.” He swatted me on the fanny, and my eyes popped open. Then he stepped away and gathered some clothes out of the closet, speaking as he pulled them on. “Why don’t you start today? I should be home by dinner.” He grabbed his wallet off of his dresser and pulled out a credit card. “Get whatever you need.”

I paused again. This felt really weird, like “married” weird. We already lived together, shopped together, ate together, bathed together, slept together, did just about everything together except share a checking account and a last name. And now he was letting me use his credit card. “You’re serious?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I trust you.”

God, he was going to hate me. He was going to think I was just like his ex-fiancée Tina. He’d lied to me, but he’d done so for my own good. Whereas, I’d lied for purely selfish reasons. But I wasn’t just using him for research.

I truly cared about him, though I doubted he’d see it that way. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have to find out about my project. The semester was almost over. And I was only using his credit card to buy
his
furniture, for
his
apartment. Nothing for me. It wasn’t like he’d said, “If you see anything you want for yourself, just add it to my bill.” So why did I feel guilty?

I took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you don’t have to pay me, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll thank you in other ways.” He winked, then kissed me on the nose. “Gotta run.” He turned and headed for the living room, and I followed, feeling slightly less guilty. “Oh, by the way. If you see anything you want, feel free to put it on my card.” He smiled, then he walked out the door, leaving me gaping like a flounder.

Oh, yeah. He was gonna hate me.

***

At the end of the week, I sat on Dylan’s brand-new, plush black leather couch, situated beside an overstuffed matching black leather recliner, and studied the ultra-modern room. Okay, so I’d gone a little wild, but he’d said he had a bit put away, so to go for it.

Well, I did, and then some.

I’d been buying black and white furniture, funky glass and marble tables, a few cool lamps, and splashes of color in modern art all week, but storing the items amongst the Brat Pack. I didn’t want Dylan to see the room until I finished. I’d spent all yesterday painting the walls and putting up a mural, and then today moving the furniture in since he’d been gone on a twenty-four-hour stakeout.

Now that he was due home at any minute, I was scared senseless. I’d made a big crock of homemade spicy mac and cheese with fancy noodles and imported mozzarella, cheddar, and jalapeño. Accompanied by a tossed salad with Mediterranean feta and a loaf of soft French bread. And to top it off, a pitcher of Bahama Mamas sat chilling in the fridge, and salsa music poured out of his brand new sound system in the background.

What if he didn’t like it? Any of it? The food, the furniture, my taste in music? Oh, God, this had been such a bad idea. He had to live here permanently. I didn’t. He’d probably move so he wouldn’t have to be reminded of me and what a mess I’d made of his life.

I jumped up off the couch and picked up the phone to dial his cell. If I could stall him, then I could get his cousins to help me put everything back the way it was.

Too late.

The door rattled as the key turned in the lock, and then the door swung open. “Mac, I’m home, and something smells awesome.” His voice trailed off and he came to a stop in the middle of the room, taking it all in with his full lips slightly parted.

I hung up the phone and swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I can change it all back, I swear.”

His eyes met mine, and he blinked as though just noticing me. “Are you kidding? This is so cool, so me.”

I bit my bottom lip. “So you like it?”

“I love it. It’s like you crawled inside my head and took a picture. You’re amazing. You really have a talent for this.”

A warm feeling swept through me. No one had ever made me feel this good. Ever. “Thanks. I’ve always loved playing around with colors and fabrics, I just never gave much thought to doing anything with it.”

“Well, you should. You should seriously consider being an Interior Designer.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me squarely on the lips. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

“You do?” I cleared my throat. I didn’t like surprises, because in my case, they were usually bad.

He went back to the door and picked up a bag he’d dropped when he first came in, then handed it to me. “Open it.”

“Dylan, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

I pulled out a big box and opened it, then gasped. A brand new spring coat. Only this had not come from Mr. Dump Ster, of that I was sure. It had “expensive” written all over it. I pulled on the heavenly brown leather and sighed. So soft and lightweight, yet nothing bulky about it. My sigh turned to a groan. “This is too much. I can’t accept it.” First his credit card, and now gifts. What did it all mean?

“Sure you can. It’s not nearly enough to make up for all you’ve done for me. And I’m not just talking about the decorating.” He slipped off my coat and hung it up. Then he came back and took my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, his goatee tickling my skin.

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed my hand again. "Let’s eat. I’m starved, and something smells fantastic.”

“Just a little something I whipped up.”

“Mac and cheese, right?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, too.”

Note to self: You are thoroughly screwed! And NOT in a good way
.

***

I printed off the last page of my paper and stapled it together just as Dylan walked into the bedroom.

“What’s that?” he asked as he tied his hair back in his usual ponytail and tucked his T-shirt into his Levi’s.

My heart sped into overdrive. I clutched the sheets to my chest. “Just a paper for the class I’m taking.”

He arched a sleek, black brow. “Really, what’s it about?”

I wanted to tell him, I really did, but I knew he would be angry. He would think I’d only been using him all this time, when that wasn’t the case at all. I just wasn’t ready to deal with that right now, so I said, “Nothing important.” Please, please, please don’t ask to read it.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, you’ve helped more than you know, but thanks.” I smiled.

He shrugged, then turned away, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t press the issue. My last day of class. I couldn’t believe our time together was nearly over. Part of me was glad that I wouldn’t have to skulk around him much longer carrying this secret, but my heart ached just the same. I didn’t want my time with him to end. But I didn’t want to get hurt, either.

“Okay, then, I have to run some errands, but I’ll be back by dinner. Don’t cook, I’ve ordered something special. I have a surprise planned.”

“Great.”
Yeah, great
. I really did hate surprises.

He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, and I clutched my papers even tighter. He just chuckled and shook his head as he walked out the door. As soon as he was gone, I grabbed my new coat and headed for school.

May. Flowers blooming, sun shining, a warm breeze blowing. A beautiful time of year. A time for new beginnings. I sighed.

A time to move on.

I got off the subway and walked the rest of the way to class. I’d made it through this stupid project, and Dylan hadn’t found out about my secret. Today was a good day. At least when he remembered me, it would be with fondness.

Once we were all seated, Professor Butthead called students up one at a time to present their projects. “Ms. MacDonald, it’s your turn. Are you prepared?” He folded his arms and wore a slight smirk like he didn’t believe I stood a chance of pulling this off. His smirk soon faded as Professor McCreedy, the head of the department, walked in and took a seat in the back, surprising all of us.