Free Project Produce by Kari Lee Harmon Page A

of another girlie magazine along with a couple of nudie pictures lying beside it.
    Disappointed and totally disillusioned, I looked down the hall. I didn’t see any sign of Dylan, so I walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper. My hand shook. Oh, God, not again . INTERNET PORNOGRAPHY was scrawled across the top in capital letters, with a list of websites below.
    No wonder he’d been so willing to take part in that conversation. Feeling like I’d been sucker-punched, I fled his bedroom and made a beeline for the living room. I might have been overreacting, but after Bob the sex addict, I was through giving men the benefit of the doubt. At least this time it had only taken me a week instead of six months to discover his true nature.
“Callie, I’d like to--”
“I’m sure you would.”
“Huh?” When I didn’t answer, he kept talking, “What I wanted to know is if you’d like to--”
“I’d like to go home.”
He blinked. “But I thought--”
“You thought wrong. I’m not that desperate, Detective Cabrizzi. I don’t want to go to bed with a pervert like you.”
“Pervert?” He stiffened, hardening his jaw. “You really do have problems figuring men out, because you’ve got me all wrong.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I know exactly who you are. Sorry, pal, not interested.”
“Neither am I.” His laser beams had cooled to icicles.
    “Good, then we’re on the same page. I’m grateful for the job you got me, but dinner is over. Consider my debt paid.” Spinning on my heel, I marched to the door and yanked my coat off the silly hockey man. When I grabbed the knob, Dylan’s warm hand curled over mine before I could open it.
    “I’ll drive you home.” His hot breath tickled my ear when he spoke.
    “Don’t bother,” I snapped, stepping away from him. Anger shot through me that my body betrayed me by reacting to the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand.
    “I said I’ll drive you home.” He glared at me like he had the night Flasher Freak had shown up. “It’s foolish to walk alone at night. Didn’t you learn anything last week?”
    “I didn’t say I’d walk. I’ll call a cab.”
    He ignored me, took my arm, and then led me to Big Betty. I opened my door before he could do it for me, then slammed it shut. Glaring, he stormed around to his side and slid behind the wheel. Neither of us talked during the ride to my apartment.
    Cutting the engine, he sighed and turned to me. “Look, Callie--”
    “Thanks for dinner.” I pushed my door open and stepped out, shutting it--and him--firmly behind me, then stormed over to my apartment door. Once inside, I locked it, wilting back and thumping my head against the solid steel as I tried not to cry.
    Why couldn’t I be wrong, just once, when it came to men?
    Hot Britches wasn’t only hot, he was sweet, and funny, and charming. He made me feel like a woman, not a piece of meat. I swallowed the lump in my throat and reminded myself he was a phony, he was a fraud, he was a fake...
    He was a sex addict.
    I could not, would not, get involved with one of those ever again, so I only had one choice. Get the sexy Detective out of my heart and my head for good. I had to start fresh. I had to find another zucchini to interview, that’s all there was to it.
    ***
    Monday afternoon, I meandered into the college cafeteria with my usual--turkey sub and iced tea loaded with sugar--and peered over my tray at the crowded room. Only one seat left. I groaned. That meant I’d have to sit at a table full of teenage girls.
    Not that I had anything against teenage girls, I’d just never had anything in common with them, even back when I was a teenager. But I had to do this. Face another fear and stand up for myself. So I took a deep breath, putting one foot in front of the other, and made my way toward the giggles. Then I jerked back just before an attractive boy would have plowed me over.
    “Hey,” I said, gripping my tray.
    “Sorry.” He flashed a