Geek Charming by Robin Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

black-and-whites, eating it just the way I used to back in the day—first a bite of the chocolate side, then the vanilla, then the chocolate, and so on. As my stomach started to rumble, I took out another piece of gum and shoved it in my mouth.
    “You do ?” I asked. The only time my friends and I went to Hollywood was for the Billion Dollar Babes sample sale. In my book, anything east of La Cienega Boulevard was considered sketchy. Except, of course, for the stretch of Third Street from Orlando to Fairfax with all the cute boutiques.
    “Yeah,” he said. “In Beachwood Canyon. Right down the street from the Hollywood sign.” He fiddled with the inhaler. “I find it very inspirational for my craft, especially since it’s the area where Doug Liman shot the Vince Vaughn and John Favreau movie Swingers in 1996, which is such a terrific example of independent filmmaking on so many levels—”
    Why he thought I would care less about something like that was beyond my comprehension, even if Vince Vaughn was a total hottie. “How nice for you,” I replied. I looked at my watch—it was already six and I was supposed to meet Hannah and Lola at Olympic Spa for body scrubs (run by Koreans—yet more well-roundedness!) at seven. “Listen, I hate to break up this party, but it’s Friday night and I have plans. It was nice seeing you again . . .”
    “Josh.”
    “Josh,” I said, giving him the biggest smile I could muster. “I’m sure I’ll see you around at school. I’ll even say hi to you from now on.” Maybe going the nice route would make him leave me alone. “Have a great weekend,” I said as I started to walk out of the room, stopping to smooth out the Navajo rug that Daddy had bought when we went skiing in New Mexico last year. Frankly, I wasn’t a fan of Southwestern decor, which was how Daddy had had the family room remodeled after a psychic he met on a ski lift that same trip told him he had been a Native American in a past life. But since, as previously mentioned, I didn’t work, I had no say in the matter, according to Daddy.
    “Dylan,” I heard Daddy growl. The growl was never a good sign.
    I turned around and gave him a smile as well. “Yeah?”
    He didn’t smile back. “Get back here, please.”
    I turned around and walked over to the couch, putting my arms around his neck. “Yes, Daddy?” I said as sweetly as I could, trying not to glare at Josh, who was examining a piece of parsley as if he had never seen one before.
    “Here’s what Josh and I think would be fair: for the next month, Josh will get to film you and your friends one day a week at school during lunch, one afternoon a week after school, and one Friday or Saturday night. And while you won’t have final cut, you will retain the right to give notes on the rough cut of the film so that you’re not unfairly or unflatteringly portrayed.”
    I let go of his neck and stood up. “You’re serious ?!” I squeaked.
    I could see Josh cringe as he started munching away on the parsley. I couldn’t believe it—my father, the man who loved me more than anything, the man who ate small real estate developers for breakfast—had totally sold me down the river just because Geek Boy reminded him of what it was like to grow up poor and listen to some jumpsuitwearing singer.
    “As a heart attack,” he replied.
    “You know I hate when you joke about that,” I said.
    “I know, I know. I’m sorry. But, yes, I’m serious,” he said as he hoisted himself out of his seat. “So serious that if I find out that you don’t cooperate, you’re not going to that dance you’ve been talking about.”
    “What?! But I have to go—I’m the Leaf Queen!”
    Josh was halfway through a snort when I whipped my head toward him.
    “Is something funny?” I asked in an icy tone.
    The snort changed into a coughing fit.
    “I guess not,” he said when he was done. “It just, you know . . . sounds funny. Like something you’d buy at Home Depot or