Читать книгу Bad Reputation - Melinda Lorenzo Di - Страница 14

When my alarm had gone off on Saturday morning, I’d groaned and dragged myself out of bed.

I slept poorly, plagued by a recurring dream. In it, the too-good-looking-for-his-own-good stranger from the school paper tapped me on the shoulder, only every time I turned around, I found Mark standing there instead.

“Not a dream,” I muttered as I made my way through the already busy student market. “A nightmare.”

The most coveted spots were the ones on the outside because they were the biggest and got the most traffic. The ones in the middle of the market were practically stacked on top of each other, and only the customers who wanted to make an actual effort would reach the area. As I shouldered my way through the other vendors, I knew that’s where I would be stuck.

I finally reached an empty table, plunked down my supplies, and stifled a cringe when I immediately recognized the girl setting up at the table beside me.

I plastered a smile on my face.

“Oh my God! Chipper!” squealed Amber. “How long has it been?”

Not long enough, if you’re still calling me by that god-awful nickname, I thought immediately, but kept my smile in place.

“Since high school,” I answered.

I automatically inventoried my former classmate’s appearance.

She hadn’t changed much. Her brown hair now boasted a few blonde highlights, and her makeup was a little more sophisticated, but aside from that, she looked like the same right-side-of-town snob.

It took serious effort to keep from curling my lips in disgust.

In the back of my mind, I knew I should’ve left all of those feelings behind the second I crossed the stage for graduation. But looking at her perky face brought back a lot of bad memories. She was one of a big group of kids who refused to accept me because of where I came from, who were never able to see past my postal code and accept that I had the brains to attend the upper class high school.

“Chipper?”

And of course, the nickname topped my list of reasons to never forgive or forget.

“Yes?”

“I never understood where that came from,” she replied. “No offence, but you never seemed all that chipper to me.”

I assessed her expression carefully. Had she really forgotten the clothes that never measured up? The years of torment? I couldn’t easily dismiss my own feelings about it, but I had been on the receiving end. Maybe it never really mattered to Amber at all. Maybe it didn’t occur to her the experience had been traumatizing for me, or she didn’t have a clue that even years later, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t that awkward girl with the dangerous father.

Just something else to occupy her time.

Her eyes were wide, and she was smiling innocently at me.

“Buck teeth,” I muttered.

“Pardon me?”

I opened my mouth to repeat myself, then closed it again when a thick arm snaked around her waist.

“Joey!” she complained, but didn’t pull away.

Feeling awkward, I drew my gaze away from the sight of the manly fingers splayed possessively across Amber’s stomach. My eyes went to her boyfriend’s face. He was grinning at me, and he looked awfully familiar.

You have got to be kidding me, I thought.

“Joey, Chipper. Chipper, Joey,” introduced Amber.

I didn’t bother to correct her on the name.

Better that he not know so he can’t splash me all over the school newspaper. I won’t be known again for what my dad did.

Joey shot me a sly wink. “Chipper. Haven’t we met somewhere before?”

“Joey, stop flirting with her. I’ll get jealous,” Amber said lightly.

“I don’t need to flirt,” he replied. “I have money and I’m good looking.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because that’s all it takes.”

Joey shrugged. “Most of the time.”

Amber’s smile faded a little. “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” I stated quickly at the same time as Joey nodded and said, “Yep.”

Amber laughed, but I could tell it wasn’t real.

“Not officially,” I muttered. “First, he was in my dorm, then he was in my business meeting.”

“Was he?” Amber’s voice was high.

She wriggled away and began setting up her table in jerky motions. Joey met my stare and shook his head slightly.

Did he want me to protect him? Fat chance of that happening.

I shook my head, too, and went back to unpacking my own stuff.

I watched Joey from the corner of my eye. He looked annoyed, but also a little amused. He took a step closer to Amber and whispered something into her hair. I watched in amazement as all the tension left her body. She smiled, leaned against his chest for a second, and then pushed him away playfully.

“Seriously?” I said out loud to myself.

The little display reminded me exactly why I’d been steering clear of men since Mark betrayed me. Manipulative, unpredictable and full of themselves. As a species.

I stacked up my pamphlets irritably.

“So…what are you selling?” Joey’s voice, right in my ear, made me jump and knock over half of my display.

“I’m not selling anything. Were you paying any attention at the meeting?” I asked, wondering how the heck he managed to get hired at the paper at all.

Right, I reminded myself. He’s good looking. And has money.

I knelt down to pick up the mess, and just about toppled over as Joey bent down beside me. His arm brushed mine, and a startling heat rushed through me. I jerked away. I was glad that Joey was staring at my promotional materials rather than at me. The last thing I wanted was for him to see the blush creeping up from my neck to my cheeks.

I glanced over at Amber. She was chatting pleasantly with a group of potential customers. She’d unpacked a whole pile of expensive-looking jewelry and held up a particularly sparkly bracelet to one of the girls in front of her.

When I looked back at Joey, he was staring at me.

“You’re a gardener?” he wanted to know.

“Yes,” I snapped.

“And that’s how you’re raising money for this pet project of yours?”

I didn’t like the way he said pet project.

“I told you I’m not doing an interview,” I reminded him.

“Why not? The press would be good for your cause, wouldn’t it?”

I clenched my teeth. “It’s personal, okay? I just don’t want my name splashed all over the place. I’d rather have the charity speak for itself.”

Why am I even telling him this?

Joey tapped his chin thoughtfully, then grinned.

“Maybe I’ll come at the story from a different angle,” he stated. “I can see the headline now. Secret identity of altruistic student, once shrouded in mystery, revealed here for the first time at the Trans U Tattler.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

He shrugged. “Probably not. But why risk it?”

I met his eyes. They were oh-so-green, and maybe almost kind. But too damned curious, and too damned smart. I got the distinct feeling that in spite of his flippant attitude and too-shiny smile, there was something more to him.

But what?

“What’s so interesting over here that you’re practically ignoring me?” Amber’s teasing question made both Joey and me jump.

I broke off my stare, and shuffled the papers on my table. Joey just continued to grin.

“I was just telling your friend Chipper a little about your jewelry business,” he stated.

She stared at me blankly for a minute. “Oh! Don’t listen to Joey. It’s my little sister’s jewelry. A project for the seniors at her school. They have to make something, sell it and donate ten percent of the money to charity.”

“But you’re selling it,” I pointed out.

Amber didn’t even have the grace to blush.

“It’s not cheating,” she assured me with a dismissive wave. “Mom and Dad took her to the Caribbean for her birthday. The money’s due Monday and they’re not back until late Sunday. Anyway our parents said they would buy it all, but…you know how teachers are.”

“Right.” I barely managed to keep my sarcasm in check.

“Well, what do you sell?”

I did blush. “I’m not really selling a product, either.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I’m a gardener,” I started to explain, then stopped.

I felt silly, confessing my need to protect the community center. It was exactly the kind of thing that got me teased in high school. My home life made me hyperaware of the need around me, but when you’re the only girl out of four hundred who cares about something other brand name jeans, people notice.

Amber was looking at me expectantly.

“Altruism,” Joey finally said. “She’s fundraising, too.”

Amber frowned. “By selling gardening services?”

“Why don’t you show me some of your sister’s stuff?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me.

Joey met my eyes again, and when he winked knowingly, I blushed.

Amber grabbed my hand and pulled me over to her table, where she pointed out delicate earring sets and long, beaded necklaces. They were a far cry from the usual hemp and stone jewelry available at the market. The prices were high—between fifty and a hundred dollars for each item—but I suspected the materials were worth even more. I didn’t know what a Swarovski crystal was, but I was sure it was something fancy.

“You want that one?” Amber asked.

I was running my fingers over a long string of polished rocks. I dropped it on the table abruptly.

“I can’t afford it,” I blurted.

Amber tilted her head to one side as if trying to figure out if I was kidding. “It’s only seventy bucks.”

“I know.”

I was really starting to wonder if she didn’t remember anything about me but the awful nickname. My dad and his degenerate ways had been no secret where we came from, nor had the apartment where I had lived. The fire and the resulting deaths had catapulted the family name to something not too far from infamy. But Amber was smiling brightly, apparently oblivious to my previous life circumstances.

“Maybe you’ll make enough in profits today to pay me back,” she said.

“I’m okay, really. Besides, I don’t take any profits from what I do.”

“None?”

I shook my head.

“Give it to her as a gift, Amber,” Joey suggested.

“A gift?” Amber and I said together.

Joey nodded. “I insist. And things get ugly when I don’t get my way.”

I started to laugh, then realized he was serious. He wanted her to give me a seventy-dollar necklace like it was cereal-box prize. And Amber was already tucking the jewelry into a bag.

“I’m not taking that,” I hissed at Joey.

“Either she gives it to you, or I buy it for you,” Joey replied, then leaned in close enough that I could smell his understated cologne. “Go ahead and decide which is going to make you feel less comfortable.”

My face heated up.

“Thank you, Amber,” I said stiffly.

She handed it over with an equally stiff smile. I shoved the whole thing into my backpack with a beet-red face, and sighed thankfully as a group of customers approached my table.

* * *

Although working alongside Amber and Joey was uncomfortable, it had a surprising benefit. She’d invited plenty of her friends down to support her sister’s cause, and they were all buying. Every one of them was happy to take my business card and flyer, and most said their parents would be dying to try someone new. I didn’t even care that they all assumed I was piggybacking on Amber’s fundraising efforts.

But I was still relieved when one o’clock rolled around and the market was packing in for the day. Being nice to the privileged was wearing on me. And so were Joey’s teasing jibes and intense stares.

“How’d you do, Chipper?” he asked as I shoved my materials back into my bag.

“Not that it’s your business, but really well, actually. If even half of these people hire me, I’ll make a huge dent in what I need to finish my project.”

Joey frowned. It was the first time I’d seen him look anything but overly pleased all day.

“What?” I said.

He shook his head. “Nothing. That’s good news. You want to come with us for a late lunch?”

“Even if that idea appealed to me, I can’t,” I told him. “I have work.”

“You work?” Amber’s voice was not quite horrified, but close.

“I have to pay for school somehow,” I replied.

“Didn’t you get some big scholarship, though?” Amber asked.

“No,” I snapped.

At my tone, both Joey and Amber balked.

Amber was right about the scholarship, but the reason I’d chosen not to accept it was far too personal to share. After everything that happened, the bottom line was that the college with the “big” scholarship was just too close to home, too close to accusing eyes and resentful memories. And that was just somewhere that I couldn’t stand to be. So I’d taken a smaller, less comprehensive scholarship at Trans U, and even though it meant I had to work to earn a living, I never regretted it.