Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2) (28 page)

Frowning, she read on.

Even had there been a hair dryer in Dirk’s guest bathroom, Marty wouldn’t have taken the time to use it. She had to get out of there—onto the road, off to the airport in hopes she could get a flight today. She needed to focus on the story, turn it in, start on a new assignment. Keep busy, get on with her life, travel to the next interesting place where she’d meet fascinating people who . . . who, she feared, could never drive memories of Dirk from her mind or her heart.

She applied a little makeup to hide the signs of tears, dressed in cotton pants and a blouse, and squared her shoulders before heading downstairs to say good-bye.

He was in the kitchen, sifting through a stack of mail. His hair was damp too, and he was in fresh jeans and a white tee, his feet bare on the tiled floor.

She filed one more image in her memory photo bank, then cleared her throat. “I should hit the road.”

He spun. “What? No, don’t go.”

“You don’t need to feed me another dinner. If I leave now, I should be able to get a flight out tonight.”

He walked toward her, biting his lip and looking nervous for the first time since she’d met him. He reached for her hands and, stupidly, she let him take them. “No,” he repeated. “Don’t go. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not at all.”

Something leapt in her heart. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I know you have a job. Of course you have to go.”

The something that had flickered to life fizzled. “Yes, I do.”

“But I wondered . . .” His indigo eyes gazed intently into hers and his face looked taut and strained. “You have to have a home base. How about making it here?”

“Here?” Hope flamed to life again. “With you? What are you saying, Dirk?”

His hands tightened on hers, squeezing painfully. “I love you, Marty.”

“Me? Really?” No, she couldn’t believe him. “But we’re so different.” Not that that fact had stopped her from loving him.

“We are. I’d always expected to fall for a woman who loved my way of life. But then you came along, and you’re . . . everything, Marty. Smart, pretty, brave, strong, fun and the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. Yeah, I’d rather have a woman who lived here with me all the time, but your job means a lot of travel and I know you love your job, so—”

“I don’t.” The words burst out. Quickly followed by, “And I do love you, Dirk.”

His strained expression faded slowly, and a wondering look of joy replaced it. “You love me?”

“I tried to stop myself, but I couldn’t. Because you’re everything too. Everything I could ever imagine wanting in a man. And this country is stunning. Inspiring. And the guys you work with are like a family and—”

“You’ll stay?” He broke in, sounding like he didn’t dare believe it was true. “Make this the base for your travels?”

Thoughts and feelings that had been building for the last two years flowed together, weaving seamlessly, forming a picture that felt absolutely right. “How about if I just stay, period? I used to love roaming the world, from story to story. But lately it’s lost its luster. I started longing for a real home, but the idea of settling down by myself felt lonely. Being here with you—”

He was beaming. “Maybe having a kid or two?”

“Oh, yes. I love kids.”

“But your work. What would you do?”

“I love writing. I’m guessing you have a local paper.” Ideas flowed faster than she could speak. “I could do articles, maybe a column. I might start a blog about the ranch way of life, through a stranger’s eyes. And I’ve always had the idea of one day writing a book about my travels. You know, the story behind the stories you read.”

“About the person who writes those stories, and what she goes through to do it.” He nodded. “When you sat by the fire telling us about your travels, you had us guys spellbound.”

There were a few more paragraphs, which Kim skimmed out of a sense of duty. Then she closed the book and rolled her eyes. “Blah, blah, blah, and they all lived happily ever after.”

Wasn’t that just so unbelievably neat and tidy? Of course Marty’d been just dying to give up her successful career, exactly at the moment she and Dirk fell for each other. And of course she had a brilliant idea for writing a memoir, and she could do it living on the ranch. For sure, her book would sell to the first publisher who saw it, and they’d pay a million dollars for it. Because, as Kim had just been reminded, this was
fiction
and bore little resemblance to reality.

She remembered what Ty had said about their relationship. How it wasn’t some sappy romance novel where people from different worlds got some magical solution.
Yeah, exactly!

Disgruntled, she whacked the stupid book down on the bedside table and flicked off the light.

* * *

M
onday afternoon, Kim hurried into Mahony’s, an Irish-style pub on Coal Harbour. George sat alone at a window table. Her red hair and amber suit almost glowed against a backdrop of sullen clouds that threatened rain.

The pub had a great selection of beers, but tonight Kim decided on a split of Henkell Trocken sparkling wine.

George, who had her usual glass of white wine, raised her eyebrows. “Celebrating?”

“I finished my UmbrellaWings business plan and sent it to my parents. Fingers crossed!”

“You’re fast! Yes, I’m crossing my fingers for you.”

“What are we crossing fingers for?” Marielle asked as she and Lily joined them, the brunette vivid in a yellow top, the blonde looking drab in shades of gray.

Kim told them, and Lily said, “You pulled it together in a week? Kim, are you sure it’s thorough? Your parents may only give you one shot at this.”

“It’s thorough; it really is. I’ve worked all my life in business, and I have a degree. Besides, Ty helped me with it and he’s—”

“Ty helped you?” George broke in.

“The hot cowboy’s good for something other than sex?” Marielle teased.

“He has a ranch. He’s a businessman.”

The perky young waitress came to take drink orders: a martini for Lily and something called an Irish Rose for Marielle. They ordered snacks too, agreeing on steamed shrimp dumplings, spicy cayenne chicken wings, and smoked salmon on herbed rye bread with caper dill cream cheese.

“All right,” Lily said. “We’ll all cross fingers that Kim’s parents are wowed by her proposal. Now, let’s talk about the book. What did everyone think of the ending?”

“I wanted to throw the book against the wall,” Kim said. “I don’t buy that Marty, a woman with a successful globe-trotting career, would suddenly give it up to go live on a ranch and write a memoir.”

Marielle nodded. “Marty has the world to choose from, all those amazing men, and she’s going to turn into a hermit on a ranch? She’s crazy.”

“The things women will do for love,” Lily said dryly.

“You didn’t like the ending either?” Kim asked her.

The blonde sipped her martini, looking thoughtful. “Well, I did buy that they’d fallen in love and had good intentions about making things work. I’d like to think that’s enough for the long term, but I’m not sure. They’re such different people. George, what about you?”

“I think it will work. Sure, in some ways they’re different, but what’s wrong with that? It’s stimulating.”

“Yeah, you don’t want a clone of yourself,” Marielle put in.

Kind of like her and Henry, Kim thought. But still . . . “She’s giving up her career.”

George shook her head, wavy red hair tossing around her striking face. “Changing to a new one. And she was ready for that change. There were signs all through the book.”

“There were?” Kim asked.

“George is right,” Lily said. “I saw that her lifestyle had worn thin, the nomadic thing of going from one assignment to another, never having real friends because she wasn’t in one place long enough. Once, the only thing that mattered was the next story, but now she wanted something more meaningful.”

“She’d fallen in love before,” George said, “and I bet she’d have settled down and been happy. But when her soldier was killed, she shut that side of herself away and focused on work. It’s what I did when my husband died. Then Woody came along, and I couldn’t help loving him.”

“But you didn’t have to give up your career for him,” Kim protested.

“Marty wanted to change her life,” George said. “To have a home and family. She’d been considering writing a memoir, and I think she’s excited about diving into it. Kim? Marielle?”

Marielle ran her hands through her long, curly black hair, pulling it away from her face. “Okay, I hear you. If it was me, it’d be a crazy thing to do. Cowboys may be hot, but I’d go nuts on a ranch with one man. But maybe it is the right thing for Marty.”

“Maybe,” Kim admitted. “I guess I was seeing her through my eyes too.” And not paying enough attention to the book, because she was distracted by Ty and UmbrellaWings.

The waitress served their drinks and Marielle raised her glass. “To Kim’s UmbrellaWings. May it take off and fly!”

Kim raised her glass, hoping with all her heart that her parents would like her plan.

Twenty-eight

T
heir waitress set down platters of appetizers, and for a few minutes the four women dished out bites of this and that, tasting and sharing opinions.

Then George said, “Kim, you said you’d been seeing Marty through your own eyes. You’re talking about you and Ty?”

Kim swallowed a bite of shrimp dumpling. “Um, yes.” She took a breath, deciding how much to share. Though she had lots of friends, she’d been brought up not to share too many details of her personal life. Yet, she wanted to, and it felt safe. “Globe-trotter Marty, Hong Kong city girl Kim, each meeting a cowboy who’s rooted to his ranch. Having a short-term fling. I didn’t pay enough attention to the differences.”

“Such as?” Lily asked quietly.

“Marty was a nomad with no home. I have parents I love dearly, and a wonderful home in Hong Kong. Maybe she’d grown jaded with her career, but mine’s just beginning and I’m so excited about it.”

“You could base UmbrellaWings in Vancouver,” George said. “We’d all like that.”

Kim smiled at her. “Thanks. But there’s never been any question that I’d return home.”

“If you cared enough for Ty, wouldn’t that give rise to the question?” the redhead asked.

Kim bit her lip. “You don’t know my parents. Staying here isn’t an option. Besides, it would be stupid to let myself care that much for a man who’s not available.”

“Seems to me he’s pretty available,” Marielle said. “You’ve been out there every weekend.”

“Two weekends.” So far. “This is just a fling. It’s my Chinese
rumspringa
, right? He wants a ranch wife.”

“That’s what Dirk thought he wanted,” George pointed out. “Before he met Marty.”

True. Even though Marty wasn’t the kind of woman he’d been looking for, he loved her and wanted her. He wanted her even when he thought she’d keep roaming the world. But Ty wasn’t like that.

“Look,” Kim said, “this is a total secret, okay?” After collecting curious nods, she went on. “Ty’s birth mom ran out on him and his dad. She was a city girl, and she hated ranch life.”

“Are you saying you hate ranch life?” George asked.

“Aside from the hot sex?” Marielle added.

“I couldn’t imagine living there. The city’s an adrenaline charge: bustle, color, vibrancy. Galleries, restaurants, I couldn’t live without them.”

“So you do hate the ranch?” Lily asked.

Slowly, Kim shook her head. “It’s kind of nice. It’s a bunch of contrasts. Hard work, but peaceful too. Huge and stark, like Marty found on the cattle drive, and yet it’s seductive in how it draws you in. When I sketched it, I felt like I was coming to understand it.”

“Sounds like you could see yourself living there,” George said softly.

“No, of course not. The only place I’m going to live is Hong Kong.”

“Which isn’t peaceful,” Lily said dryly.

“No, but . . . it’s home. Anyhow, Ty’s dead set on finding a woman like the mom he grew up with. The opposite of his birth mother. A country girl who’ll do all the ranch stuff with him. Not an artist who wants to make umbrellas.”

“If he loved you—” George started before Kim cut her off.

“He doesn’t. And I don’t love him.” Her voice rose. “We’re not you and Woody, okay?” Nor Marty and Dirk. It was
not
okay for Kim to fall for Ty, and she wouldn’t do it.

“And even if you did love each other,” Lily said, “it’s hard maintaining a relationship when your careers are on such different courses.”

Something about her voice, a note that might have been pain, made Kim focus on the blonde. There was a sad, reflective look in her clear blue eyes. While Lily participated fully in discussions about books and the other women’s lives, she never said much about her own life. She was older, a family practice doctor, and had been married a long time. That was all Kim knew. Except that, more than once, she’d seen signs of tiredness and worry on Lily’s face.

There wasn’t much more than a month left before Kim would return to Hong Kong. She might never know Lily’s problems, might not have time to fly back for George and Woody’s wedding, might not find out if variety-loving Marielle ever found a man—or a drink or a job—that won her heart.

As for Ty, maybe it would be best not to keep in touch. Kim wanted to hear how Distant Drummer made out, but did she really want to know about the woman Ty fell in love with and married? The one who was everything she was not?

* * *

K
im was walking home from Emily Carr across the Granville Street Bridge Tuesday afternoon when her cell phone rang. Call display showed her parents’ number.

She froze, a surge of nausea almost bringing her to her knees. They could only be calling about her business plan. This was it. The moment she’d anticipated since she was a child with a passion for art. They would give her a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down, and her future would be decided.

She stood at the bridge railing and forced herself to press the screen to accept the call.

Her mother’s voice spoke, loud enough to be heard over the traffic. “Your father is here with me and we have been over your plan with a fine-tooth comb.”

Not even a hello. Was that a good or a bad sign? Kim gripped the railing. “And?”

“We want you to join Chang Property Management, as we’ve always intended.”

The nausea churned and she took shallow breaths, trying to quell it. “Call you back,” she managed to get out, then she ended the call.

This was it. The worst had happened. Every dream she’d ever had, crushed. She was a butterfly who wanted to fly, and they’d torn off her wings. She wanted to scream, wail, throw herself over the rail of the damned bridge. But she didn’t have breath in her body to do any of it. She hung on to the railing, the only thing that kept her on her feet.

And then—oh hell, who cared what passersby thought?—she sank down on the sidewalk, knees up, arms wrapped around them, face buried. When she’d worked summers and part time for CPM, she’d been bored and frustrated, but she had always kept the dream alive that she’d escape one day. Now . . . How could she even contemplate the future?

Betrayed by her parents, knowing Henry would take their side, she lifted her cell again and called the one person she could talk to.

“Hey, Kim,” Ty answered. “How’s it going?”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “Crappy. My parents rejected my business plan.” Last night, she’d e-mailed him a copy of the final product, and he’d said it was a winner.

“Shit! Shit, Kim, that sucks.”

His vehemence almost made her smile through her tears. “To put it mildly.”

“They’re crazy. It was a terrific plan.”

“I thought so too.” She huddled, looking out at the water so the strangers walking the bridge’s sidewalk wouldn’t see her tear-stained face.

“They never gave you a fair chance.”

She’d always believed that they would, despite their own strong desire that she join CPM. “No. I feel”—she hated to disrespect her parents, but all the same—“betrayed. Maybe they never believed I’d come up with a plan, but they never said they’d flat-out reject it if I did.”

“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Honey?
Even in the depths of misery, she noticed that he’d called her honey. He’d never done that before.

“What are you going to do?” Ty asked.

“Do? They didn’t give me a choice.”

Silence. Long enough that she asked, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. And Kim, I don’t want to beat up on you when you’re down, but this isn’t your parents’ decision to make.”

“Ty, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He cut her off. “I’m not Chinese and I don’t get it. But I know that parents and kids often have issues about control as the child grows up. We sure as hell did in my family. Dad and I would’ve come to blows a time or two, if Mom or one of my grandparents hadn’t stepped in.”

He so didn’t understand her family. Wryly, she said, “I don’t think punching out my father’s going to fix this.”

“Wouldn’t have fixed my problems either. What I did was leave home and go my own way.”

“I can’t believe that solved everything.”

“It didn’t. Because I was a hothead, and my grandparents weren’t exactly diplomatic about supporting me rather than my parents. We all could’ve handled it better. I’ve always felt bad about that.”

“You have?”

“Kim, while I was proving my independence and being a rodeo star, my family lost Ronan Ranch. I didn’t pay attention to what was going on back home. I was selfish, and didn’t help them.”

Her head ached from sorrow and tears, which made it hard to think, but all the same . . . “So you’re saying I should join CPM and support my parents?”

“No, I’m saying you should do things better than I did. Their company’s not in trouble, is it?”

“No, it’s doing very well.”

“Does the company need you?”

She brushed tears from her cheeks and rose. The world was still turning: traffic on the bridge, boats heading in and out of False Creek, the late afternoon crowd gathering on the deck of Bridges’ restaurant. “No. But Mom and Dad want to keep it in the family. There are several other relatives working there, but I’m their only child.”

“They’re proud of their company, like my folks with Ronan Ranch. Here’s something my grandma told me, not long before she died. My dad wasn’t just mad at me when I wanted to rodeo full-time, he was hurt. I was rejecting the ranch he’d worked so hard to build and took such pride in.”

She bit her lip. “I can see that.” As she walked toward home, she imagined Brand Ronan facing a headstrong young Ty. “I bet he was worried too.”

“Worried?”

“He’d lost your birth mom. Now there you were, wanting to leave the ranch too, and to do something dangerous.”

“Huh. He never said any of that.”

“Do men ever say things like that to each other?”

“I guess not.”

“And I didn’t realize how badly it must hurt my parents that I never embraced the business they built.” So, she was doomed. Doomed to be the good, respectful daughter rather than build her own dream.

“Then do it better than I did. Go after what you want, but consider their feelings.”

“Go after UmbrellaWings? But they said no.”

“You don’t need their permission. You’re a grown-up.”

And the only child in a Hong Kong family with traditional values. If it had been tough for Ty to defy his parents, and it had caused bad relations for years, how much worse would it be for Kim? Her parents might be so hurt and embarrassed that they’d cut her out of their lives.

“Why did they reject it, anyhow?” he asked. “I thought it was a solid plan.”

“I don’t know.”

“They didn’t tell you?” he said disbelievingly. “You let them get away with that?”

“I was too shattered to ask questions. I said I’d call back.”

“Then ask, and defend your decisions. Or, if they have objections that make sense to you, go back and do more research, more analysis. They’re successful businesspeople; they might have useful input.”

Hope fluttered tiny wings in her chest. “Maybe.” She took a deep breath. “You’re right, I’ll do it.”

“Good for you. Don’t let them bully you, dragonfly girl.”

The expression brought both a smile and a fresh mist of tears. She was so glad she’d called Ty—but what was life going to be like when he was no longer in it? “I’ll let you know what happens.”

Squaring her shoulders, she marched into her building. In her apartment, she opened the window-wall, washed her face with cold water, took a couple of deep breaths, then made the call.

When her mother answered, Kim said, “What didn’t you like about my business plan?”

A pause, then, “It’s not a plan to join CPM.”

“Yes, I got that.” And she wasn’t going to let them get away with it. Pacing across the small apartment, she asked, “But the plan itself, what’s wrong with it?”

“I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with it.”

Kim’s jaw dropped. “You think it’s good? But you’re still insisting I join CPM? Mom, that’s not fair.” Remembering her conversation with Ty, she said, “I mean no disrespect to CPM. You and Dad left your homes to go to Hong Kong and you built an amazing, successful company. Your relatives and ancestors are so proud of you. But it’s something the two of you built together. It’s your thing, not mine. I want a chance to build something that’s mine.”

“CPM is established. Secure. You’d have a good future there.”

“I know. But it’s not what I love.” She’d always hated arguing with her parents, and usually backed down. Now, there was too much at stake.

“You can still do your art. You’re talented, and we’ve always encouraged you.”

“Yes, and thanks for that. Mom, I’ll do art as a hobby, but I want to incorporate my artistic talent in my own business as well. I know that starting a new company isn’t a secure thing, but I’m willing to take the risks.” Remembering something else Ty had said, she went on. “You and Dad are so business savvy, if you have input as to how to improve my plan and reduce the risks, I’d love to hear it.” Besides, the stronger her proposal, the more likely she’d find financing to start her company.

After a long pause, her mother said, “As you know, there are no guarantees in business, but your father and I think this could work.”

“Then . . . what are you saying?”

She heard murmurs between her mother and father. Then her mom said, “Your father and I thought you wanted to paint all day, exhibit, try to sell paintings.”

If that was true, they’d never truly listened to her.

“We knew you had a good business brain,” her mother went on, “but until now we didn’t understand that you were capable of combining it with your art. If this is what you truly want, Kim, and you’re prepared to work hard for it, then you should have it.”

“I . . . wow.” Really? Had she won? Was it possible?

“We want you to think very, very carefully about this. But if you’re determined, then we’ll provide start-up financing.”

For the second time in an hour, Kim sank to her knees. “What?” Had she heard correctly? She’d designed the plan not just for her parents’ approval, but to convince a financial institution to provide a business loan. It had never occurred to her that her parents might provide financial support. “Seriously?”