That Touch of Pink. Teresa Southwick
Читать онлайн книгу.
haven’t established all the facts yet. The way I understand it, he escorted you out of his office after he said no. If he is, in fact a welsher, at least he’s a gentleman welsher.”
“I paid for the weekend he donated to the auction. The check cleared already. And he’s refusing to make good on the deal. Maybe you’d prefer Indian giver?”
“Native American would be a little more politically correct,” Jamie pointed out.
“Politically correct would be for him to give me what I paid for—a weekend campout so Kimmie can earn her nature badges. I should have seen this coming. After all, he’s a man. By definition, that makes him a slacker.”
“Are we talking about Riley Dixon or your ex-husband?”
“They’re interchangeable,” Abby said.
“Is he as hot as I’ve heard?”
“Who? Fred?”
“I’ve seen Fred,” Jamie pointed out. “I meant Dixon.”
“He wouldn’t have to wear a bag over his head in public,” she grudgingly admitted.
An image of the man’s dark hair, blue eyes and flawless physique flashed through her mind and Abby braced herself as her stomach lurched from the same elevator sensation she’d experienced just a short while ago. But, he was a reminder about judging a book by its cover—a hunk with the face of a hero and the heart of a welsher.
“So he’s really good-looking?” Jamie pushed, obviously wanting details.
“He’s weathered,” she said carefully. “A little bent and battered, but buff in all the right places.”
“So you like him,” Jamie declared in a grating I-knew-it tone.
“I don’t like him. But I’m not blind and I don’t tell lies in spite of the fact I don’t like him. Here’s the thing. When he told me he wouldn’t take us on the campout, I got that Fred-feeling in my gut.”
“You’re telling me Dixon is a shallow jerk who’d leave you in the lurch to try out for a TV reality show?”
“It’s not the trying-out part. It’s the finding-Ms. Fear-Factor-who-jumped-on-his-bandwagon-and-his-bones-after-which-he-never-came-back part,” Abby said, remembering that particular brand of devastation. “And I don’t know if Dixon would do that. I never intend to find out. Because in my book, breaking one’s word on first acquaintance is a giant red flag.”
“From what I’ve heard, Riley Dixon is a hard worker. A former Army Ranger who’s built a profitable security business in under five years. Soldiers don’t get to be Rangers by slacking off.”
“Then we’re back to welsher.” She met her friend’s gaze and sighed. “Okay. I’ll admit to some lingering hostility toward the man who shirked most of his responsibilities—the most important one being his daughter.”
“I understand why you’d have this over-the-top reaction. Kimmie doesn’t have a dad, and you’ve got to be both mother and father to her.”
“That’s all true. But I’ve come to terms with it.” She ignored her friend’s raised eyebrow. “Part of coming to terms with it is knowing my limitations. I bought Riley Dixon to fulfill the father role for the weekend. How was I to know that he’s a macho jerk who breaks his promises? In my book, that makes him a Fred The Flake clone.” Abby huffed out a breath that lifted her bangs off her forehead. “Like all men, Riley Dixon is ducking his obligations.”
“Not all men are that way.”
“No? Couldn’t prove it by me.”
“Let me rephrase. Not all men are flakes. Just the ones you meet.”
“Why is that? I’m a high school librarian. Every day I deal with kids who don’t return books, don’t turn in assignments and just generally don’t do what they’re supposed to do. It’s my job to mold them into capable, dependable, efficient, honest adults. Admittedly, I’ve only been doing this for a little over three years, but I’ve had students come back and say I’ve made a difference in their lives. So is it just bad karma that I’m surrounded by irresponsible, dishonest men? Am I a flake magnet? Should I roll over and let Mr. Macho walk all over me? What recourse do generally law-abiding people have when someone doesn’t live up to their obligation?”
“Did you or did you not say he offered to reimburse you?”
“He did.”
“So take the money and hire one of those mounted police guys. I hear they’re quite impressive in their tight trousers and red coats. The hats are a little funny-looking, though.”
One corner of Abby’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Texas is a little far from the Canadian border to make that a viable solution.”
“Too bad,” Jamie sighed. “What about a Texas Ranger? The hats are better, and they’re right in our own backyard.”
“That’s law enforcement, not nature guide.”
“They’re hot, too.”
Abby stared at her. “Maybe you need to go home and take a cold shower.”
“I don’t want to go home,” she said, an odd look on her face.
Instantly alert, Abby stopped pacing. “Is something wrong, Jamie?”
“No.” She shrugged.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Abby asked. “Does it have anything to do with the guy your parents bought you at the auction?”
A smile curved up the corners of Jamie’s mouth. “Yeah. A little. I’m dealing with it. No big deal.”
Abby had learned that if her friend didn’t want to talk about something, nothing could drag it out of her. So they might as well go back to the problem at hand. “Okay. Let’s come up with some really creative grounds for suing Riley Dixon.” Abby was glad when her words produced a laugh.
“So you refuse to let him reimburse you and just camp out with Kimmie in your new backyard and take her to the park for a walk?”
“No can do,” Abby said. “Not authentic enough for The Bluebonnets. It’s gotta be real. At least one night living off the land. With dirt and no flushing toilets. Microwave bad, fire good,” she said in her best caveman voice.
Jamie laughed. “That seems pretty extreme.”
“Don’t tell Kimmie that. She’s got her heart set on getting all her badges. You know her. When she gets something in her head, she’s going to do it. And come hell or high water, she’ll get it perfect. I keep telling myself that determination is a good quality in an adult.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
“I don’t want to find another way. I had it all figured out and paid for.” She held her hands out, palms up. A helpless gesture, and she hated feeling helpless—maybe even more than she hated relying on a man. “What am I going to do?”
“Talk to him again.” Jamie shrugged as if it were that easy.
“Are you saying you won’t sue him?”
“No. I’m saying people are too sue-happy these days when a simple conversation could save time, aggravation and money. He’s ex-military. Surely he’s a rational, logical man.”
Abby sighed. “Listen to yourself. Any self-respecting legal eagle would take this case and run with it for all the billable hours they could get. You, my friend, are going to starve.”
“I can afford to take off a few pounds.”
“You are so lying. And you’re too thin. You’re sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”
“No. Except I know you don’t really want