Project Produce(70)

I stood and casually made my way over, still pretending to study the menu. I lowered my menu just enough to see over the top and peek through the tree.

“Whoa, would you look at the fun bags on her?” Beefcake said from behind me.

I jumped and then looked over my shoulder. “Shhhh. They’ll hear you,” I whispered. “Fun bags? Why on earth fun bags?”

“Cuz they’re fun. If I were him, I’d be playing all night.”

“Right.” I had to ask.

“So, is that the guy?”

“Yes. Now, stop talking so I can hear what they’re saying.”

“Ooh, yummy. Look at all these choices. And they use such pretty colors to describe them, don’t you think?” Penelope batted her lashes at Dylan, curving her ruby red lips into a coy smile.

Wonder how long it took Bombshell in front of the mirror to perfect that little number.

Dylan grunted. “Uh, pretty colors. Right.”

So his type consisted of a life-size Barbie with big implants, professionally-bleached blond hair, and colored-contact-enhanced indigo eyes. She rambled on about the shapes and sizes of the menu choices, but he yawned as he stared at his own menu, looking like he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention.

“Sir, your table’s ready,” the maitre d’ said from behind us.

I spun around and stared into narrowed eyes. “Great. I was just studying the menu, and the food looks delicious.”

“But I thought we were--”

I elbowed Beefcake in the ribs and pasted on a brilliant smile.

The maitre d’ pursed his lips, stuck his nose in the air, and said, “Right this way.”

Beefcake started barreling off without me again, but I snagged his arm and attempted to strut my stuff. Dylan looked right at me as we approached, but I pretended not to see. He ducked down in his seat and held the menu up in front of his face.

Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy after asking another woman out. I know I hadn’t returned his phone calls, but I didn’t care. I’d be rational later. Right now, anger and jealousy battled within me. There, I admitted it. I made eye contact with Bombshell and gave her the biggest smile I had in me, then I pretended to notice Dylan for the first time. “Dylan? Is that you?”

He lowered his menu and looked at me. “Mac.” His gaze flicked to Beefcake and hardened.

“Oh, my God. You two know each other? Well, you just have to join us,” Bombshell gushed.

“There’s not really enough room.” Dylan glared at her.

“Don’t be silly. Yoohoo, Mr. Maitre d’ man, could you bring two more place settings? My date would like to invite his friend and her date to join us, wouldn’t you, snuggle bunny?” She giggled.

Dylan met my direct stare. I looked from Penelope to him and then arched my naturally-blond brow high, flattening my collagen-free lips into a thin hard line.

“Why not?” he answered, his eyes narrowing to icy blue slits. “I’m dying to meet Mac’s date.”

“Well, snuggle bunny, I’d love to introduce you to Bart,” I said with a stiff smile and frost lacing my voice.

Penelope giggled. “I’m Penelope, and I call him snuggle bunny, too. Isn’t that funny? She’s funny, Dylan. I like her.”

“Yeah, she’s a regular riot,” he responded, his stare boring into mine. “And I thought it was Dukeypoo.”

“It was. As in past tense. Bart, this is Detective Cabrizzi.”

“Hey, man.” Bart nodded, barely acknowledging Dylan as he plopped down across from Penelope. “Hey, babe.” He’d need a flipping bib if he didn’t stop drooling.

“He calls everyone babe. It’s so sweet.” I forced a smile as I sat across from Dylan and dug my heel into Bart’s foot.

“Ow, Christ, what the hell did you do that for?” Dylan leaned over and rubbed the top of his black dress shoe.

Whoops. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. My foot slipped.”

“By accident or on purpose?”

“If I’d meant to do it, I wouldn’t have aimed for your foot.”

“We gonna order or what? I’m starved,” Bart asked.

“You like to eat? That’s so funny, I like to eat, too,” Penelope answered, and they dove into another pointless conversation, oblivious to us.

“So this is how you’ve been spending your time?” Dylan asked me as he jerked his head in Beefcake’s direction and arched his sleek, black brow.

God, he looked good in a suit. Heck, he’d probably look good in a trash bag, but I refused to let that distract me. “Yes, well, I was a bit busy this week with my new friend, and all. He’s been such a doll, helping me get over my insomnia. I finally found a safe way to tire myself out.” I bestowed a flirty smile on the stud muffin sitting next to me, but Beefcake simply stared at me. I cleared my throat, and after a moment, he finally got the hint and draped his arm around my shoulders.