Project Produce(64)

Cat Woman and Thermometer woman eyed each other and rolled their eyes. Figured, only the men wouldn’t get it.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “My project doesn’t really have anything to do with food, it’s just easier for me to discuss in terms of produce. My topic is to research how the size of a man’s private parts affects his personality. For example, does a certain size make a man cocky or comfortable or confident. Or does size have nothing at all to do with the way a man behaves. Stuff like that.”

“Who the hell gets assigned a topic like that?” Gadget turned three shades of red, and Khaki Man laughed his ass off.

“Unlucky saps like me.”

“You need any more subjects, just let me know,” Khaki Man added.

“Thanks, but I’ve got the pickles covered,” I said, but the devil just grinned wider. “Look guys, I’m not out to make your lives miserable or to hurt Dylan, but after what you all put me through, it wouldn’t hurt you to help me out.” I looked each of them in the eye. “I just want to have a little fun and get him back. What I have in mind is harmless, you’ll see.”

Thermometer Woman stared at me for a full minute, and the table grew quiet. Everyone studied me as though I was under a microscope, and I tried not to squirm. Then Thermometer Woman finally said, “We’ve watched you for weeks now and heard how Dylan talks about you. I think you might be exactly what Dylan needs in his life right now.”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t need me. Trust me, we’re just friends.” I cleared my throat. “So what do you say?”

They put their heads together and whispered for a minute, then Khaki Man grinned. “Well, hell, I’m all about having some fun. You got a deal, Annie. Now, what exactly do you want us to do?”

I gave them their instructions, then I said, “My turn. I told you about my project, so it’s only fair you tell me about Dylan’s issues with shrinks.”

Gadget said, “Nothing much to tell. Dylan shot a man once, and had to be evaluated by the department shrink.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. There’s more to Dylan’s story than that, so someone spill it.”

“The shrink was a woman, and they had a thing for a while. Now he doesn’t like shrinks,” Khaki Man added.

“Who could blame him for breaking his engagement after what that bitch did?” Cat Woman scoffed.

“Engagement?” My mouth fell open, and they all glared at Cat Woman.

“Nice going, loose lips,” Khaki Man ground out.

“Well, now that I know, you may as well tell me the rest.”

Gadget sighed. “Dylan called off the engagement because he found out she was trying to get him fired behind his back. Guess she didn’t want to be married to a cop, and he hasn’t really trusted women since.”

Hot Britches had been engaged? My heart flipped. So at least at one point in his life, he hadn’t been afraid of commitment. But things had to be different now that he’d been hurt. My heart went out to him because I knew what it felt like. It was somehow comforting to know we had at least one thing in common, even if it was only heartache.

Maybe we could still be friends after all. But that didn’t mean he’d get off Scot free. He deserved a little harmless payback. “Got it,” I said. “Don’t hurt Dylan, and we’ll get along just fine. No problem, because this is all in fun. A little well-deserved payback, and then we’re even.”

They left, and I headed home to put on some salsa music and make myself a huge plate of macaroni and cheese with a side of one extra-large Bahama Mama. Okay, maybe two. Hey, I deserved a little comfort food after that rollercoaster ride.

Exhausted, I shoved my feelings aside, not yet ready to examine anything, and focused my energy on payback. Only then could we work on being friends again.

My anger diminished as absolute determination took up residence in its place. What had Dylan said that night in the toy store? ‘Don’t mess with the best, because you’re never going to win.’ I’d show him who the best was, all right. And then I’d make him eat those words, because I had no intention of losing. Last time I checked, produce included both vegetables and fruit.

Note to self: Peaches can turn rotten just as quickly as Zucchinis.





CHAPTER TWELVE





Two A.M.

Two freaking A.M.!

Who got up at two A.M. to do, well, anything? I had to be out of my mind, but what I had in store for payback included messing with Dylan’s sleep. Who cared that it messed with my own? Payback might be petty, but my competitive streak refused to let him one up me. Besides, he’d made me think I was losing my mind, so turnabout was fair play. Time to make him think he was losing his own mind. He wanted to baby-sit me; well, I’d make him work every minute of his shift.