“He’s still handsome,” her mother sighed over moo-shoo pork on Mott Street as she looked at the photos Kimi had brought of her father. “Claudia’s a good-looking young woman too. Not as pretty as you, of course, but there’s definitely a resemblance.”
“I want you to meet her. I invited her to come to New York.”
Her mother’s brows rose. “You’re not planning a parent trap, are you?”
Kimi laughed. “No, Mom. I can’t even imagine you and Giovanni together. Not even when you were young. How did you two ever get together in the first place?”
“Sex. Of course.”
Kimi rolled her eyes. “I figured that part out, thanks. But, in a campus crawling with guys in Birkenstocks quoting Emily Dickinson, how did you end up with an Italian business major?”
Her mother pushed her gray-and-black hair over her shoulder. She was, as she liked to tell Kimi, aging gracefully, but the silver-and-black threads in her hair were stunning and it was a look that people were currently paying a fortune for in New York salons.
At fifty her mom remained beautiful in an earth-mother way. And, though she’d sworn she’d never marry, Kimi knew that Evelyn’s toothbrush was rarely the only one residing in her bathroom. Currently, the guy with the wooden-handled, hemp-bristled toothbrush was a philosophy professor named Bryant. Kimi thought he was a pompous windbag, but her mom said he was great in bed and had an unexpectedly quirky sense of humor. Whatever.
She could almost see her mom sifting back through the years and her various lovers to reconnect with those few months almost thirty years ago.
“I suppose the simple truth was, not that opposites attract, which is patently ridiculous, but that sometimes we have a powerful sexual attraction to someone with whom we have no other possible way of connecting.” She shrugged and the shisha mirrors woven into her jacket—hand-crafted by fair-trade female artisans in India—flashed. “I can’t explain it. Hasn’t that ever happened to you?”
Kimi sat back and regarded her mother. “I think it just did.”
“Oh, good. Tell me all the delicious details.”
“You know, you’re more like a girlfriend than a mother.”
A wicked grin answered her. “I tried my best to be a good mother, but I have to say it was a relief when you grew up and I could relax and enjoy you as a friend.”
Kimi laughed. It was true. They loved each other, but they did a lot better now that they didn’t share a roof. “I guess you and I are a perfect example of people who love each other but have nothing in common.”
“But I never loved Giovanni. Anyway, that’s old history. Tell me about your wildly inappropriate lover.” She slipped a snow pea into her mouth. “In Paris of course?”
She nodded. “His name’s Holden and he’s a private investigator. We worked together—well, I guess I helped him do his job, and we busted a couture theft ring, which you already know.”
Her mother was watching her carefully. Not much got past her. “And?”
“And it was fantastic,” she wailed. “But he lives in Oregon and he’s an outdoors guy. You know, hiking boots and lumberjack shirts.”
Her mother’s lips twitched. “No designer suits and Italian loafers?”
“His designer is Eddie Bauer. His hobby is photographing wildlife.” She leaned in and dropped her voice as though relating a dirty secret. “He camps. In a tent.”
Her mother hooted with laughter. “All those years I tried to instill in you other values than which skirt went with which top, in which pursuit I failed mightily, and you fall in love with Jeremiah Johnson. Oh, it’s delicious.”
She groaned. Not even bothering to deny she was in love with the guy. Trust her mother to home in on the pertinent detail. “What am I going to do?”
“You’ve got two choices. Forget about him or track him down like the rare and endangered species he is.”
“What are you saying? A good man is hard to find?”
“No. I’m saying that a man who doesn’t dress prettier than I do is going to make me—and you—a lot happier than those useless twits you usually go for.”
A waiter came over with a fresh pot of green tea. Even in the most crowded restaurants in Manhattan her mother always got better service than anyone she knew.
“I swore after my last summer boot camp for paramilitary feminists in training that I was never going to put on a pair of hiking boots again.”
Her mother poured the tea. “It was summer camp to build self-esteem and survival skills. Don’t exaggerate. And, like I said, you have a choice.”
“Yeah…But it doesn’t feel like much of a choice. I can’t stop thinking about him.” Or paging through the album he’d made her. When she got to the last page, she noticed, not their obvious differences, but how well they blended together in the most basic way of all.
Her mother leaned over and patted her shoulder. “Maybe there’s an Eddie Bauer on Fifth Avenue.”
She groaned and put her head in her hands.
“I’m joking, Kimi.”
“I passed an outdoors store on the way here. I almost told the cab to stop. That’s how pathetic I am.”
A low laugh and sparkling excitement in her mom’s eyes told Kimi that Evelyn was enjoying this much more than a good mother ought to. “Then you can find it on your way back. I don’t have to work this afternoon. I’ll come with you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going in.”
She was still arguing when the cab dropped them outside the store. There was a yellow mountaineer’s pack in the window, an ice ax and red rope. Ridiculous.
She followed her mother inside. The place even smelled like tent when she walked in, and of all the sensory recollections stored in her memory bank that evoked strong reactions, the smell of tent was right up there with puke.
She edged to the door, thinking this was not her place and these were not her people, when a young girl wearing a Team Everest T-shirt and a nose ring came up and asked if they needed any help.
Her mother, for once, didn’t open her mouth. Clearly, she knew that it was up to Kimi now.
The salesclerk wore her blond hair in a ponytail, no makeup but clear lip gloss, cargo pants and sneakers. She had the bright eyes and glowing complexion of an outdoors buff, and muscular arms and legs. This was the sort of woman for Holden, not a designer-obsessed fashionista.
But she’d come this far. She flashed a smile at the young woman and said, “I haven’t worn a pair of hiking boots in more than ten years.” She glanced at her companion. “My mom made me go to these awful wilderness camps for girls—”
“Wow, cool.”
“Not for me. Anyhow, I was thinking I should give the outdoors another try.”
“You totally should. You know, boots are a lot lighter and technically enhanced than they used to be.”
Oh, great. Technically enhanced hiking boots. Just what she needed. “Look, the truth is, I met a guy. He’s the outdoors type. I wanted to see if I could stand it, maybe for a weekend.”
The blonde looked her up and down. She was wearing a Dior pencil skirt, an Emilio Pucci blouse from last season, cherry colored Kate Spade bag and Prada open-toed sandals. “He must be some guy.”
She grinned. “Oh, he is.”
“Okay. Let’s start with the boots. Your number-one most important piece of hiking equipment. Where will you be hiking?”
She tossed a helpless glance at her mother, who said, “Oregon.”
“Okay. You’ll need rain gear.”
“Rain gear.” Forty minutes later, there was a four-hundred-dollar charge on her card and she owned gray hiking boots, a guaranteed-to-stay-dry-in-all-weather jacket and assorted hiking garb. For four hundred bucks she could have had two Hermès scarves, the Dior sunglasses she’d seen in Saks yesterday, a pair of—no! She had to stop.
She was doing this. Holden had already proved he could play in her world. Maybe it was time to see if she could play in his.
After leaving
her mother, she returned to her office and wondered if she should have called Holden first before her little shopping spree. They hadn’t spoken since they got back to the States. There was no point in dragging out the inevitable, but she was beginning to wonder if parting was inevitable.
She thought of the photograph album she kept on her bedside table so it was the last thing she saw at night and the first thing she noticed in the morning. Maybe love was stronger than their differences.
Or maybe not. There was only one way to find out.
She called his cell phone. “MacGreggor.”
And hearing him say his last name had her knowing she was doing the right thing. If his voice uttering one word could make her almost woozy, she couldn’t imagine what Holden in the flesh could do in a weekend. She shut her eyes briefly. Even if Holden and his flesh were in a tent.
“Holden, it’s me, Kimi.”
There was a tiny pause. Delighted surprise, she hoped.
“Kimi. Hi. Where are you?”
“I’m in my office. But I’ve got an assignment in Seattle.”
“That’s great, when?”
“The timing’s flexible,” especially since she didn’t actually have an assignment in Seattle and she’d be scrambling to put one together if this worked out. “I thought I’d take a few extra days and come visit you.”
“Visit me.”
She looked at the bag of outdoors stuff that she could swear still smelled faintly of tent. “I was hoping to take you up on your offer to go, um, camping.”
He chuckled. “Seriously?”
“Why not? You made those sunrises sound pretty good.”
“It is so great to hear your voice.” He dropped his to a soft murmur. “I missed you.”
She smiled into the phone. “Me too.”
“Figure out your timing and I’ll clear my schedule. How much time can you give me?”
“I don’t know. A few days.”
“Five. I’ll need five days to take you where I want you to go.”
She swallowed. “Five days in a tent?”
She could almost hear his grin. “No. Five nights in a tent. The days we’ll go out.” He dropped his voice. “Unless we decide to stay in bed.”
Beneath the horror of what she’d committed to, Kimi experienced the excitement of knowing she was going to have him all to herself for five days and nights.
THE MINUTE SHE SAW him again, all her anxieties, second thoughts and exasperated this is not me visions of herself disappeared. Holden was there, at the airport, to meet her, folding her into his arms so tightly she thought she might spend the next five days in a hospital instead of a tent.
Eventually, he drew back and she saw the man she’d first seen. A little rumpled, rough and outdoorsy. And he looked better to her than the whole fall Armani collection put together.
His eyes crinkled as he took a good look at her. “You’re wearing hiking boots.”
“Don’t gloat.”
“I’m not. You look fantastic.”
She leaned in close. “Under all this outdoors gear I am wearing silk lingerie from Paris.”
In the middle of the airport he threw back his head and laughed. “You are definitely my ideal woman.”
He grabbed her yellow backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t rain. Even though she brought the all-weather jacket, the weather was gorgeous for June. Warm and sunny. Her hiking boots were comfortable—of course she’d made a fool of herself breaking them in tramping through Central Park, but it was worth the trouble she’d taken. They were comfortable and sturdy and of course five days alone in a tent with Holden was an entirely different experience than a month in tents packed with teenage girls—apart from the three terrifying days and nights she’d been completely alone in the wilderness.
“You have to admit the great outdoors has some advantages over a crowded city,” Holden murmured in her ear on their fourth day. They were both naked. Sunlight dappled their skin and only the trees and the odd chipmunk were around to witness their passion.
“You think this view is better than the Eiffel Tower?”
He nuzzled her breast. “Definitely.”
Tomorrow they’d drive back to his place and then she’d fly out the next day, back home. Saying goodbye again.
Was this just another quick intense visit? Could they keep this up? A Steller’s jay hopped to a nearby rock and perched there, its head to one side, blue wings ready for flight, observing them greedily, hoping for handouts. To her amusement, she was starting to know the local flora and fauna, thanks to her mountain-man tour guide.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “You know,” she said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Mmm. Me too.”
“Really? What about?”
“How well you fit in with my life. Once you quit whining about missing macchiatos and your eyelash curler, you did okay.”
She smacked him. “The only thing I whined about was my cell phone. I’ve never been this far from a phone since the cell phone was commercially available.”
“There’s no service up here. No point in lugging a cell around. Only a global phone works out here.” He brushed his palm over her breast and she shivered. “You did good.”
“I’m having fun. You have possibly cured me of the outdoor-experience phobia I developed in wilderness-survival camp.”
“Was it watching the pod of orcas that convinced you?”
“No. Spectacular as that was, I think it was all the great sex that sold me.”
He chuckled, then suddenly grew serious, and with an expression in his eyes that made her pulse quicken, he kissed her, the kind of kiss that says more than words can. But then he said the words anyway. “I love you.”
A weird noise, almost like a ringing phone interrupted him. She raised her head. “What is that noise?”
“My global phone.”
Her jaw dropped. “You have a global phone and you never told me?”
He didn’t bother to answer the obvious, just jogged over to his pack—and she hoped he hurt his bare feet on the rocks—and hauled out the phone. “MacGreggor.”
While she watched him on the phone he’d snuck in under her nose, he nodded. “Yeah, sure I’ll hold.”
He put his hand over the phone and said to her, “It’s for emergencies only.”
“What’s the emergency?”
“I don’t know yet.” Then he held up a hand. “Hi. Uh, huh. Maybe.” He shot her a look. “I might be interested.” Then his lips quirked as though at a private joke. “Actually, yeah, I do know where Kimberley Renton is.”
What? She mouthed. He waved her silent.
“I’ll get her a message. Right. No, I understand. Absolutely. We’ll get back to you.”
She sat up. “What’s going on? Who were you on the phone to? Why did my name come up?”
She made room for him on the blanket as he sat beside her. Their bare arms brushed and she was almost shocked by the warmth of his skin.
“I’ll tell you in a minute, but first I want to finish what I was trying to say.” He glared at where the phone was safely tucked away out of sight. “That’s why I hate bringing a phone out here. I didn’t want to be interrupted. The thing is, I thought we were going back to our completely different lives. But I can’t do that. I can’t let you go.”
“I know. Oh, Holden, I love you so much.”
He opened his arms to her and folded her in tight.
“I did better than I thought I would here, but the thing is I’ll always be Manhattan.”
“I know. And I’ll always be the outdoors guy.”
“So?”
“So, we compromise. Spend time in each other’s worlds. Maybe someday we’ll find a place we both love.”
“But what about our work. What about—”
The jay, obviously realizing that the two naked people weren’t doing anything that involved food, flew
off with an annoyed squawk.
“That call? It was ApplePie’s PR firm.”
“Why would they call you?”
He was grinning down at her. “Because Nicola Pietra and Mark Apple have decided to let two hand-selected members of the media in to photograph their wedding. It’s a secret location, top-secret everything to keep out the paparazzi. They were so grateful to us for saving the dress and, they said that since they were going to put us on the invitation list anyway, we should be the ones to do the pictures and write the article.”
She jumped to her feet and whooped, feeling the breeze soft against her skin and the bumpiness of the ground beneath the blanket.
“Do you know what this means? It’s huge.”
“I know. We can work together. I can get used to Manhattan. You can get used to Oregon. We’ll work it out.”
“We’ll work it out,” she agreed, so full of happiness she wanted to do something crazy. Skydive. Climb a mountain. Spend another five days in a tent. “And if we ever can’t agree?”
He took her hand and kissed it. “We’ll meet in Paris.”
Drop Dead Gorgeous
By Kimberly Raye
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
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