Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,59
main attractions of this event. Fifteen minutes of being introduced, of Harlan shaking hands and being charming, and then he got swept up by a group of boys who were surely the football team and she lost him in the crowd.
“How are you doing?” she asked Dyma, because Owen had been swept up right along with Harlan. She could see him over the heads of the others, and Harlan a little ways away, both of them shaking hands, laughing, and talking as if freezing to death in a North Dakota parking lot was the way they’d most wanted to spend this day.
“Are you asking exactly how cold I am,” Dyma said, “or whether I’m traumatized from that conversation?”
“Well, both, I guess,” Jennifer said.
“The jet was extremely cool,” Dyma said, “but I can’t feel my face, I’m wishing for some of those foot warmer packs, and I don’t think North Dakota has registered the concept of vegetarianism. Also, their version of celebrity is a little lame. I thought Wild Horse was bad. But it’s nice of Harlan to do it, I guess.”
“So that’s happening?” Jennifer asked. “The vegetarian thing?”
“Yeah. I’m doing it. I’m not listening to any arguments about protein or whatever, so don’t even try. All kinds of people live perfectly healthy lives on plant-based diets. How many Hindus are there in the world?”
“I don’t know,” Jennifer said. “How many?”
“Lots, that’s how many. Plus, do you realize how many gallons of water it takes to produce a pound of beef? Eighteen hundred. Soybeans only take about two hundred gallons, and tofu tastes just as good as hamburger and is way less gross.”
Not to me, Jennifer thought, but aloud, she just said, “I have to say, you’re probably the only woman in the world who meets an obscenely rich, celebrity cattle rancher and instantly makes the decision to base her life around tofu.”
“That’s because I don’t compromise my principles for men. Even though, yeah, he’s seriously hot, and sorry, Mom, but I don’t think he thinks the idea of a romance between us is out of the question. I hate to tell you, but he kissed me. Well, I kissed him, but then he kissed me. It was great.”
“So you’re saying you don’t actually hate to tell me.”
“Nope,” Dyma said. “I’ve been wanting to tell somebody, and you’re the only one here.” Which made Jennifer laugh.
“Well, I guess …” she said, “be careful.”
“More careful than you, you mean.”
The laughter died, and Jennifer tried to think of something to say and couldn’t.
Dyma sighed and said, “I didn’t mean than you before. Just—I think Harlan really likes you. Owen didn’t invite me to come meet his whole home town. And, yeah, that was all very …” She paused. “I don’t know. Intense. Horrible. I’m glad you told me, I guess, even though I kind of wish I didn’t know.”
Welcome to adulthood, Jennifer thought. Aloud, she said, “Do you really?”
Dyma sighed again. “Maybe. I guess not. I don’t know. It’s weird to know for sure that your father was a rapist. And don’t say he wasn’t, because that’s what he went to prison for. And he’s part of me, whether I like it or not.”
“Hey.” Harlan emerged from the group of boys with Owen behind him. “Thought you were sticking with me. How come you don’t have anything to eat, Dyma?”
“Vegetarian, remember?” she said, rallying fast, as always.
Harlan glanced at Owen. “What’s the tailgate alternative to meat?”
“Not sure,” he said. “Not something that’s come up in my life. Now, turducken’s come up. Deboned chicken stuck into a deboned duck stuck into a deboned turkey,” he told Dyma, “with sausage dressing stuck into the chicken first, of course.”
Dyma made a face, and Owen grinned and said, “Bacon-wrapped Oreos have come up, too. Surprisingly delicious.”
“Aw, now you’re just hurting my feelings,” Owen said. “Rocky Mountain oysters? That’s good eating. Fresh off the animal, breaded and fried? Fine Wyoming tradition. Also, they’re calf testicles. Bull testicles would be way too tough. And why should they go to waste? Got to use every part of the animal if you’re looking for sustainability, and you’re cutting them off anyway.”
Jennifer said, “Stop. Please. I’m eating sausage here.”
“See?” Dyma said. “Meat’s gross if you think about it for even a second. I’m just pointing it out so you have to think about it.”
“Well, stop pointing it out,” Jennifer said. “I don’t like vegetables enough to become a vegetarian. I prefer to think about