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Authors: A. Meredith Walters

Bad Rep (37 page)

BOOK: Bad Rep
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It was hard to imagine what my life was like before he came into it.  And I didn't want to even begin to contemplate an existence where he wasn't a part of it.  It scared me with how entrenched he had become in my life.  There was no ripping him out.  Not now. 

 

“Maysie Ardin!  Please tell me you're here to take your old job back,” Moore called out, coming out of the back. 

 

I lifted my hand in a wave.  “Maybe in the summer if you'll have me back,” I replied.  Moore walked over to the railing separating our booth from the bar area.

 

“I'm holding you to that, sweetheart.” He looked at Jordan.  “Any way I can talk you into playing a short set next Saturday?” 

 

Jordan made a grimace.  “I don't think so, man.  We're on a bit of a hiatus.  But I'll let you know when we start booking shows for the new year.” 

 

Moore grumped but accepted his answer.  “Fine, fine.  But I best be first on your list,” he warned, then reached over and gave Jordan an awkward fist bump.  Moore looked as though he had never given anyone a fist bump in his life.

 

“That guy is relentless,” Jordan said, taking a bite of his burger after Moore had left.

 

“You're telling me.  I can't wait until you play here again, though,” I remarked.  Jordan raised his eyebrows. 

 

“Will you actually stay for the whole show next time?” he teased.  I kicked him lightly under the table. 

 

“Low blow, Jordan Levitt.  Low blow,” I threw back at him.  Jordan laughed. 

 

“I know, I know.  But I'm holding you to that.  Next time your ass is in the front row.  If I have to tie you to a chair, I will.  I wanna see your sexy face when I'm up there.  Knowing I'm the one that gets to see you naked will make it all that much better,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine.

 

I didn't have anything to say.  He had this crazy ability to make me lose all thought process.  “Um, okay...”  Then I shut up, any response quickly forgotten.  Jordan laughed even louder, enjoying the fact that I was visibly squirming in my seat. 

 

Riley took our empty plates.  I had eaten everything and felt ready to burst.  I leaned back in the booth and groaned.  “I'm stuffed,” I said, rubbing my stomach. 

 

“You better have room for dessert,” Jordan warned seductively. 

 

“Oh, yeah?” I asked coyly, widening my eyes.  Jordan smirked and the heat in his eyes made my body tingle. 

 

Riley and Jaz came to the table, each carrying a tray.  They started laying plates and bowls on the table.  “What is all of this?” I asked, not believing my eyes.  There was a plate of my favorite mini chocolate eclairs from Cup and Crumb.  In a bowl was another of my weaknesses, Swedish Fish.  Then there was a plate of chocolate croissants, something I kept in the apartment for breakfast at all times.  Then lastly, there was a huge slab of Barton's six layer chocolate cake, my favorite on the menu. 

 

“Oh my god, Jordan!”  I couldn't believe how incredibly thoughtful he was.  Jordan's watched me warmly as I picked up a green Swedish Fish and popped it in my mouth. 

 

“I've never seen someone get as happy as you do when there's junk food to eat,” he teased, grabbing one of the eclairs. 

 

My stomach felt all mushy.  This guy was too much.  How did I ever get lucky enough to be with him?  And the way he watched me, I knew he was feeling the same about me.   And I hoped like hell I would be able to keep him.

 

Jordan dropped his napkin on the table after we had polished through most of the food.  He picked up the boxes with my left over dessert and pulled me to my feet.  “Let's get out of here.  I have something sweeter to give you,” he said, dropping his voice low and brushing his nose along the side of my neck.  I turned to look at him as I gripped his hand with mine. 

 

“Lead the way,” I whispered, knowing I'd follow him anywhere.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

 

Today was the day.  The beginning of the dreaded Parents' Weekend.  The two days that invited misery and discomfort to every college student in existence.  Well, for those that wanted to hide their slacker debauchery from the rose colored glasses of their mom and dad. 

 

My parents were driving up from South Carolina that morning.  They never missed an opportunity to come up to campus, do the dinky tour and remind me of how important it is to make good decisions.  They were probably about three hours into their five hour drive.  Giving me exactly two hours to clean through the apartment like a mad woman and prep myself for Dad's infamous interrogation.

 

“Woah, I've never seen this place so clean!” Riley gave a low whistle as she surveyed the spotless living room.  I had gone all out, even going so far as to Windex the sliding glass doors.  I had hidden my ash tray under an overturned flower pot.  My parents didn't know I smoked and I'd like to keep it that way.

 

“So I'm guessing your parents will be here soon.” Riley surmised, watching me fluff couch cushions for the millionth time. 

 

“That would be an affirmative,” I mumbled, straightening the coffee table. 

 

“Okay, Mays. You're channeling some serious OCD.  It's okay.  Your parents aren't near as hard core as you make them out to be.”  Riley loved my parents.  Probably because they loved her.  Her no nonsense, focused academic outlook as well as her stellar show of responsibility, had them eating out of her black nail polished hand. 

 

“Of course you'd say that, Riley.  I think they wish we had somehow been switched at birth,” I said, wiping the coffee table with a dust rag. 

 

Riley snickered.  “I seriously doubt that.  You need to stop taking things so seriously,” she suggested.  Easy for her to say.  She didn't have to live under the umbrella of parental disappointment on a daily basis.  Her parents doted on her. 

 

“So, what do you have planned for the parentals?” she asked, flopping down on the couch.  I made a noise as she messed up the immaculately positioned pillows I had just straightened.  I sighed but chose not to say anything. 

 

“Well, we're scheduled for the campus tour at 11:00.  Then I'm taking them out to lunch.  Figured we'd go to the Bakertown Deli.  Jordan is supposed to meet us there,” I added.  Riley's eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her bangs.

 

“Dang, meeting the parents.  That's serious, Mays,” she said.  My gut twisted at the mention of it.  When I had brought up the fact that my parents would be coming up for the weekend, Jordan had immediately suggested that he join us for lunch.  I tried not to sound as freaked by the whole thing as I actually was.

 

Jordan and I hadn't been dating that long and I felt it was a little soon to do the whole introduce the boyfriend to your folks thing.  Plus I was dreading the reaction my conservative parents would have to my guy with his facial piercings and visible tattoo.  But I didn't want to hurt Jordan's feelings, so I had reluctantly agreed.

 

Jordan seemed strangely excited about it.  He had called late last night after his shift at Barton's to confirm the plans.  I wanted to tell him to forget about it, but it was obviously important to him. 

 

“I guess,” I hedged. The truth was it gave me a bit of whiplash at how serious Jordan and I were.  We went from zero to joined at the hip in no time.  I loved being with him.  I loved how we could spend time together and it was so comfortable , as though we had always been together. 

 

But...

 

“Stop stressing.  Your parents will like him.  You need to stop building things up unnecessarily in your head.  You'll end up in the loony bin at this rate,” Riley told me, giving me a sharp look.  Introducing Riley Walker, my good sense.

 

“You're right.  Turning off my overactive mind now.” I tapped my head and gave her a smile.  Riley snorted.  She watched me continue my one woman whirling dervish as I flitted around the apartment, making it as clean as humanly possible. 

 

Finally it was time for me to get showered and dressed.  I chose a simple, knee length flowered skirt with a short sleeved pink shirt.  Virginia was enjoying unseasonably warm weather; fall hadn't begun to move in.  I loved it.  I hated when I had to start cramming my feet into closed toed shoes and cover my legs with pants and leggings.  I was a summer gal and I would live it up while I could.

 

I had just finished putting my hair back in a braid when the doorbell rang.  Riley answered it before I could and I listened to my mom and dad's voices drift back from the living room.  Riley must have said something amusing because I could hear my dad's rich laugh. 

 

I walked down the hallway and saw my roommate and parents talking animatedly.  My parents may be older but they still looked great.  I got my long, dark hair from my mom.  She wore hers down and it curled around her shoulders.  Her face was only just starting to show signs of wrinkles, primarily around her eyes and her mouth. 

 

My dad was a big dude.  He towered over my mom's 5 foot 3 frame.  He was clean shaven with a strong jaw and dark brown eyes.  His thick, black hair was peppered with white and his mouth was smiling.  I wasn't used to my dad looking happy.  He was serious guy.  Being a high school English teacher, his thought process often went right over my head.  He had always had high expectations for me and I knew I often fell short of them.

 

“Hi Mom.  Dad,” I said, joining the trio in the living room.  My mom's face lit up when she saw me and immediately enveloped me in a warm, rose-scented hug.  My dad gave me a small smile, nothing like the one he had been wearing seconds earlier.  My mom pulled back and patted my cheek before my dad leaned in to pat my back. 

 

No hug.  Just a freaking pat on the back.  What, was I a dog? 

 

My mom looked around the apartment.  “It looks so clean in here.  I'm glad to see you guys aren't like other college students living in squalor,” she stated.  I shared a look with Riley.  If she only knew that on a normal day, our coffee table was covered in used glassware and empty pizza boxes.  And our kitchen would have dirty dishes piled in the sink.   We weren't complete slobs, just lazy about housekeeping.

 

“Thanks,” I said.  My dad was looking around, and I knew he was trying to find something to criticize.    I hated how inadequate that man made me feel.

 

“So what exactly did you spend all of your money on? Because I'm not seeing anything here that cost more than fifty bucks at a garage sale,” my dad asked coldly. 

 

I tensed and my mom hissed out, “Dan!”  Two minutes in and I was ready to cry.  This was going to be a long day. 

 

“Well, you know our Mays.  Giving to the homeless and feeding stray animals.”  Riley jumped in.  “So, Mr. Ardin, how are those Gamecocks doing this year?” she asked, steering the conversation away from my spending habits to the football team at my dad's alma mater, the University of South Carolina.  Another reason for my dad's chronic disappointment where I was concerned.  He wanted me to go to USC, I wanted to come to Rinard with their awesome English Program.  That hadn't gone over well.

 

I gave Riley a look of intense gratitude as my dad launched into a detailed stats rundown of his favorite college football team.  “Do you want anything to drink, Mom?” I asked, heading into the kitchen.  My mother followed me.

 

“I'd love some iced tea if you have it.”  Of course I had iced tea.  I'd stocked up because my mother drank it by the gallon.

 

I got a flowered glass down from the cabinet and poured her some tea.  “I love these glasses, Maysie.  They're adorable,” my mother said a little too enthusiastically.  I knew she was trying to make up for my dad's nastiness.  That was the way of our family.  I was the royal screw up, my dad got pissed and my mom worked her ass off to smooth it over, even as she drilled in her own guilt trip. 

 

“They're Riley's actually,” I said a little shortly.  We fell into a kind of awkward silence.  My mom finished her iced tea and put the empty glass in the sink. 

 

“Maysie.” She began, facing me.  My shoulders sagged in preparation of whatever she was about to say.   She must have recognized me bracing myself because she took a hold of my hand.  “I know your father can come across a little gruff.”  I wanted to roll my eyes at
that
understatement.  “But he loves you.  Very much.  And he just wants what's best for you.”  I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything positive. 

BOOK: Bad Rep
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