Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  I’m the world’s biggest idiot and Reed has just driven that point home. Again.

  Chapter Four

  On Sunday afternoon, I’m in the same place that I’ve spent most of the weekend. I’m bundled under an afghan on the sofa with my two favorite guys—Ben and Jerry—watching marathon sessions of Gossip Girl. Watching rich kids with mundane problems turned glamorous usually makes me feel better. But not this time. Maybe it’s because in the past, whenever I watched, I always presumed that I would live that life someday.

  For the first time, I consider the idea that I might not.

  The idea is terrifying. It’s not because I want that life. Having money has never been about having things, although that would be nice. Having money has been about having security. I recognize my need for money is unhealthy. I’m smart enough to know this, but my irrational fear of living without it still exists. It’s like people who hoard food. It’s not about eating the food. It’s about knowing the food is there if you need it.

  Tina had never been subjected to my wallowing last winter, but she must have been warned because she’s been scarce most of the weekend. I suspect she’s complained to Scarlett, because Scarlett shows up with two containers of ice cream and a plastic container of macaroni and cheese.

  She sets the ice cream and mac and cheese on the coffee table, then picks up my empty ice cream carton and the empty pot that I’d cooked macaroni and cheese in the day before. I hadn’t wasted time putting it into a bowl. Scarlett disappears into the kitchen and returns with fresh spoons, handing me one before she plops down next to me, crosses her legs and tucks the afghan around her.

  “Chuck has his French girlfriend,” she murmurs, taking the lid off the macaroni and handing it to me. “You’re already on season three.”

  I scoop a spoonful of noodles and shove them in my mouth, then shrug.

  “What happened?”

  “Dylan was a fucktard and so was Reed.”

  Scarlett pops a lid off the container of Phish Food. “Dylan’s no surprise so I guess I’m really asking what happened with Reed.” She digs ice cream out of the carton. “Caroline, it was obvious he’s interested in you. Even to me. How about I tell you what I saw, and you tell me when I get it wrong?”

  I eat another bite and nod.

  “Dylan was a jerk who tried to feel you up on the dance floor. Am I right so far?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then Reed intervened.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you danced with him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Caroline, what happened?”

  I sigh and set the noodles on the table. “At your party last week, Reed asked me out and I told him no, that I was too busy. Then Tucker brought Dylan over and Reed was still there.”

  Scarlett groans. “Then Dylan asked you out.”

  With a grimace, I lift my shoulder. “Well, it was more Tucker matchmaking, but I said yes.” My heart aches when I think about what happened next. “Reed got pissed, obviously, and wanted to know if I said no because of his major or because I couldn’t do laundry on his abs.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I don’t know what it is with him, but he gets me hot in zero to point-six seconds, and I said something I regret.”

  “I take it the hot you’re referring to isn’t sexual.”

  “Well that too, but in this instance, angry. It’s like he knows exactly which button to push to piss me off.” I pause, shame washing over me. “I told him it was because he didn’t have enough money.”

  “Oh, Caroline. You didn’t.”

  I cringe and grab for the other Ben & Jerry’s carton. I can take anything but Scarlett’s disappointment in me. “I was instantly sorry, Scarlett. I felt terrible and was about to apologize when his girlfriend showed up.” The reminder makes my own bad behavior more acceptable. “Who does that? Asks a girl out on a date while they’re on a date already?”

  Scarlett releases a heavy exhale. “I don’t know. So then why did Reed’s girlfriend take you to his table Friday night?”

  “She recognized me in the bathroom. She acted disgusted when I asked if they were at the club together, but she dragged me out to see Reed. He didn’t seem happy to see me. So I went back to our table.”

  “And then he saved you from Dylan.”

  “I could have taken care of it.” I say. “I thought he was saving me from embarrassing myself. Turns out he wanted to be the one to embarrass me.” I pause. “He told Dylan he wanted to dance with me, and he looked so pissed that Dylan just backed down. But then Reed held me just as tight, and I asked him what the difference between him and Dylan was. Reed told me that the difference was that I wanted to be there.”

  Scarlett cocks her head, her eyebrows rising. “And…?”

  “And then he acted like he was going to kiss me, and dropped his hold on me. I stood there waiting for him to kiss me, like a fucking idiot, and then said he’d just proved his point.”

  Scarlett shakes her head. “Wait. You wanted him to kiss you?”

  “I told you he gets me hot in both ways.” I press my head back into the seat and squeeze my eyes shut. “God, I’m an idiot.”

  “No, you’re not an idiot.”

  I open my eyes. “I am, but the worst part is that I deserve what he did.”

  Scarlett’s mouth presses tight in anger. “No, Caroline. I don’t care what you did to him, it didn’t warrant what he did to you. Especially after asking you out while he was already on a date.”

  I won’t argue with her because she’s loyal to fault, and she’d take my side even if I killed Reed in cold blood and stuffed his heart under the floorboards. “I should thank him.”

  “What?” She practically jumps off the sofa. “How can you say that?”

  “Two men, two disasters, less than five minutes apart. I’ve had a wakeup call, Scarlett. I’m focusing on the wrong thing.” I’ve given this a lot of thought as I’ve watched all the failed relationships on Gossip Girl. I’ve put too much stock into finding a guy and not enough into trying to shape my own future. Men are jerks you can’t count on. My last boyfriend was proof of that. I found out two months ago that he’s now engaged to the girl he cheated on me with.

  “I’m going to focus on my career,” I continue. “The upcoming fashion show is the perfect way to work on it. My advisor’s friend from New York is coming to the show to pick one of us to work in her design house after graduation. I’m going to focus on that.”

  Scarlett looks thoughtful as she takes a bite of her ice cream. “New York?”

  “That’s what you focus on after my speech?”

  “But it’s so far away….”

  I roll my eyes in exasperation. “What are you talking about? You’re moving to Washington D.C.”

  “Not next year. I’m going to start graduate school while Tucker finishes his last year of college.”

  “So you are staying.”

  “It looks like it.”

  My lip begins to tremble, and I bite it to keep from crying. “We knew this day was coming.”

  “But not so soon.”

  “We’re seniors, Scarlett. Of course, it’s happening so soon.” I give her a halfhearted smile. “It’s time.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I, but we don’t have a choice.”

  Her eyes are shiny with tears but she grins. “So does that mean you’ve figured out your designs so you can win the competition?”

  I snort. “Hell, no. I’ve been busy.” I wave my ice cream container at her. “But for now, these are the only two men in my life.”

  Scarlett’s mouth twists into a grin. She doesn’t believe me. I guess I don’t quite believe me either, but I’m sure going to try.

  ***

  On Monday afternoon, I’m in the dean’s office, sitting in the conference room. My fellow design students—Megan and another senior, Renee—sit in high-back leather conference chairs. Megan has a laptop in front of her and Renee
has her iPad. My yellow legal pad lies on the black-granite topped table. We fill one side of the table. The other side is conspicuously empty. But we still have several minutes before the meeting is supposed to begin.

  “Ms. Carter said four o’clock, right?” Megan asks, checking the time on her phone.

  “Yes.” But I’m anxious anyway. I can see one or two people running late or cutting it close, but all three?

  The door opens and three people fill the room. A girl and a guy I don’t recognize, and the third person is Reed’s girlfriend. Or is she his ex-girlfriend? She’s still as energetic as she was the last two times I’ve seen her. She bursts into the room, her curls bouncing and a bright smile on her face.

  The guy’s face is flushed. “How is it that you all knew where to meet and we were given the wrong room?”

  We give him blank stares until Megan says, “Our advisor told us to come to the dean’s office.”

  “We were told the chancellor’s office.” His tone softens, but not by much.

  “Wait a minute.” Renee sits up. “Are you suggesting we told you the wrong location?” Indignation riddles her words. “Why would we change the location and not tell you?”

  His eyebrows rise and a sardonic smile darkens his eyes. “As some underhanded attempt to keep us from being part of the committee.”

  Renee rolls her eyes. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. If I really thought we could get rid of you all by giving you a wrong room number, I would have made sure you were told the date was a day later. Then you really couldn’t find us.”

  “See!” he shouts, turning to Reed’s girlfriend. “I told you!”

  “Greg,” she says. “Don’t be ridiculous. Our advisor told us to go to the chancellor’s office. It was a simple misunderstanding.”

  I stand and flash Greg a smile. “Why don’t we start over?” I point to my chest. “I’m Caroline Hunter.” I turn to the girls seated to my right. “This is Megan Thorn and Renee Rodriguez is on the end.”

  The non-design students remain standing so I forge on.

  “I confess this is new to us and not how our department is used to running the fashion show.” I cast a quick glance at Megan and Renee. “But that being said, we’re very excited the Monroe Foundation has chosen to partner with us to raise money for the underprivileged children in Middle Tennessee. We’re thrilled to be part of a community outreach project.”

  His shoulders relax.

  “Why don’t we all sit down and we can all go around and formally introduce ourselves. We can also state what skills we bring to the table to benefit the show.”

  As they move to their seats on the opposite side Renee places her arms on the table and leans forward. “Forgive me for stating the obvious.” Her eyes narrow. “But how can students who don’t know anything about fashion design help put on a fashion show?”

  Renewed tension fills the room, and I want to strangle Renee. She’s voiced her displeasure over the outside involvement multiple times before this meeting. Megan and I have tried to reason with her, insisting we have no say in their addition to the committee and we need to make the best of it. She obviously has her own agenda.

  Greg turns to the other girl standing quietly behind him. “See, Wendy? I told you this was pointless.” He heads for the door.

  I take a step forward and stop his path. Ms. Carter is counting on me, and I need her recommendation with her New York friend. “Wait. Please, don’t go. Renee doesn’t speak for Megan and me.”

  Reed’s girlfriend places a hand on Greg’s arm. “Come on, Greg. This is new for us too. I think we can make this work.”

  Greg scowls and slinks to his seat.

  Reed’s girlfriend flashes me a smile and it seems genuine, not a fake sorority girl smile.

  Looks like I have an ally on the enemy front.

  Everyone sits down, leaving the chair at the head of the table empty.

  Reed’s girlfriend begins the introductions and her face lights up with excitement. “I’m Lexi. I’m a sophomore and a business major, but I have a special interest in running nonprofit organizations. I’ve had experience organizing fundraisers and even though this is my first year at Southern University, I’m excited to be included on the committee.”

  Greg shoots her an annoyed look, then looks at me. “I’m Greg and I’m an accounting major. I’m in charge of the allocation of funds for the program.”

  Before Wendy even speaks, I realize what the foundation has done. It’s ingenious.

  Lexi flashes an encouraging smile at Wendy before she speaks. “I’m Wendy, and I’m a senior getting a marketing degree. Last summer I interned for a firm in Memphis that worked on a local nonprofit campaign. Our timing for this particular event is pretty tight, but I think we have time to throw something together before the show next month.”

  Renee is next, but her mouth gaps before she sits up, her attitude changed after hearing the other student’s potential. “I’m Renee, a senior in fashion design. I’ve modeled in the past and have connections to several girls in the school who have modeled and will probably volunteer their time.”

  Megan smiles, full of enthusiasm. “I’m Megan, also a senior design student. I’m great at time management and I know some photography students who are interested in shooting the show for their portfolios. I’m sure we can get them to take some preshow photos to use for publicity.”

  It’s now my turn and although I’m bursting with excitement, I’m now at a loss as to what to list for the attributes I bring to the table. I can’t tell them all that Ms. Carter suggested me because of my peacemaking abilities. “Uh … I’m Caroline and I’m a senior majoring in fashion design.”

  I was the one who suggested this exercise, but I hadn’t planned on everyone presenting such vital roles to organizing the show. Anything I say at this point will sound lame, but I have to say something. “I’m great at organizing and I work well in groups.” Really? That’s all I can come up with? “I’m looking forward to being part of combining the practicality of the business department with the creativity of the design department.” I look around the table. “Perhaps we should appoint someone to be in charge and keep us on task?”

  Greg’s upper lip curls into a sneer. “And I suppose that person should be you?”

  My shoulders stiffen. “Well, no … but we need….”

  “We already have a chairman.” Lexi looks up from the phone in her hand. “He was sent to the wrong location too, but he’s here now. In fact, he should walk in the door at any moment.”

  As if on cue, the door opens, and I hide my surprise at who walks in the door.

  Reed Pendergraft.

  Chapter Five

  Why is a mathematics grad student in charge of a committee consisting of business and fashion design majors?

  Reed’s forehead burrows when he enters the room. He shuts the door behind him and places his hand on the back of the seat at the head of the table. With his white dress shirt, blue tie, gray dress pants, and loafers, he looks like a CEO of a company, not a mathematics grad student. His no-nonsense attitude clinches it.

  “Who was in charge of the room allocation?” His eyes scan the people sitting at the table then land on me. He hides his surprise well, one moment of hesitation before his attitude returns.

  I suppose he expects me to answer since he’s still looking at me, his eyebrows sinking even lower.

  “It was a simple misunderstanding, Reed,” Lexi murmurs. “Our advisor told us the wrong location and I told you. We’re all here now.”

  Reed and Lexi lock eyes and they appear to have a nonverbal conversation. Reed glowers at her, but Lexi smiles sweetly. After several seconds, Reed’s frown deepens, and he sits in the chair and folds his hands on the table in front of him. “Have you begun?”

  Everyone remains silent until Lexi, the only person not stunned into silence, speaks up. “We’ve all introduced ourselves and listed what we bring to the table.” She flashes me a smile, and i
t still seems genuine. “It was Caroline’s idea.”

  Reed’s sharp eyes pin me again. “And you didn’t think to wait for me?”

  Now he’s starting to piss me off. “I’m sorry. But until approximately a minute ago, I didn’t even know you were on the committee. We were only told to show up in this room at four. We didn’t know who or what to expect.” I’m surprised by my outburst. This is so unlike me, except, apparently, with Reed. Even Megan stirs next to me, probably caught off guard as well.

  Reed must accept my answer because he looks around the table again. “I’ll need everyone to write their name and contact numbers, schedules, and e-mail addresses so that I’ll be able to contact you regarding meeting locations and times if there’s a discrepancy in the future. We have a very short time to put this together, and we’ll have to put in some long hours to make it happen.”

  His scowl deepens, and I wonder how his face doesn’t pucker in on itself like a black hole. If only I could be lucky enough for Reed Pendergraft to disappear.

  Megan releases a tiny gasp.

  Reed tilts his head slightly, and his eyes harden even more, a feat I didn’t think possible. “I can assure you, Ms. Hunter. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Oh, dear God in heaven. I said that out loud.

  I’m about to die of embarrassment.

  “Now, Ms. Hunter, since you are indeed stuck with me until this show is complete, would you be so kind as to allow me to take a sheet from your legal pad and pass it around?” His voice is tightly controlled but the throbbing vein on his temple gives away how angry he really is.

  I nod my consent and slide a sheet of paper toward him after I rip it off with shaky hands, my face on fire. What in the world possessed me to say that out loud? I’m usually the epitome of a southern lady in situations like this, and that was not ladylike behavior.

  What happens over the next few minutes is a blur. I’m lost in my own mortification. I can’t believe I made such a mistake. I’m always in perfect control of my reactions. But Reed Pendergraft irritates the shit out of me.