Bad Reputation

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?”