Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (19 page)

“Absolutely,” Charity told her.

“I'm lining up a team, then figuring out what volunteers can do. Crystal's really excited about the whole thing, especially Josh coming out of retirement.” Pia grinned. “Like the rest of us, she once had a thing for him. Before she met her husband.”

“It does seem to be a universal condition,” Charity said, hoping she sounded both friendly and neutral.

“Crystal's great at organizing, but with her being sick, she can't always be available. Still, I'll take what I can get.” She scanned the menu. “The Josh angle is the best part. It'll give us a lot more press than we would have gotten otherwise. I never understood why he retired when he did. He was at the top of his game. That last season, he couldn't lose. It was amazing to watch.”

Until the race where Frank died, Charity thought, knowing the loss had devastated Josh and stolen a piece of him.

The server came and they placed their orders. When she'd left, Pia leaned toward Charity. “You look great. That jacket is adorable. Am I allowed to say that?”

Charity laughed. “Yes. Pia, it's fine. I told you before, I appreciate your blunt, albeit drunk, honesty about how I looked. I'm having fun remembering how to do the girly stuff. I'm even getting highlights.”

“They'd look good on you.” Pia sipped her diet soda. “The problem is where to go. The two best places in town are owned by two sisters who have a serious rivalry. Not only for clients, but for gossip. Each of them has to be the first to know anything. If you're loyal to one, you're the enemy of the other. I get around the problem by alternating back and forth. They try to pin me down, but I won't let them.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is, but worth it to keep the peace. You're still living at the hotel, aren't you? There used to be a salon there, but it closed. How is it living like the rich and famous?”

“Not so rich and certainly not famous. It's fine until I can find a place of my own. I get a special rate through the city.” Compliments of Josh, she thought. Marsha had told her about the discount when she'd hired Charity.

“I've started looking for a house to buy,” she con
tinued. “There was one place I saw that was terrific. It's a restored craftsman-style house. I love everything about it except the price. I heard the owner would be willing to bargain, but even then I'm not sure I can swing it.”

Pia frowned. “Which house is that?”

Charity told her the street. “There's a wide porch and a beautiful backyard. I love the mature trees on the street.”

“Who told you the owner was willing to deal?”

Charity tried not to feel trapped. “Um, Josh mentioned it.”

“Did he?” Pia's mouth turned into a knowing smile. “He must really like you. He put a lot of money into that property and was expecting top dollar for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He owns the house. He bought it a few years ago and fixed it up. Actually he was still racing then, so he had the work done. He used it as a rental, then decided to sell it. I know a few people are interested and he's not lowering the price for them.”

Pia's expression turned speculative. “He's always put business before the ladies, but that seems to be changing.”

Charity did her best not to blush. “I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't know Josh owned the house.”

“You do now.”

“But he didn't tell me.”

He hadn't even hinted when he'd shown her the house. Although looking back, she should have guessed something was up when he'd had a key.

“Why would he do that?”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “You tell me.”

“We're not together.”

“Maybe he wants to be.”

“No. Guys like him don't…” She shook her head. “He's too…”

“Rich, successful, hot?”

“I'm not his type.”

“How do you know?”

“Then I'll pose it as a question. Am I his type?”

“Until today, I would have said no. But maybe times are changing.”

* * *

C
HARITY LEFT HER LUNCH
with Pia nearly as hungry as when she'd arrived. She'd only been able to pick at her salad, mostly because she was thinking about Josh and the house and what Pia had said.

It made no sense for him to give her a break on the price when other people would be offering him more. It implied a relationship they didn't have. The fact that he'd done it before the “incident”—as she was now thinking of it—should have helped, but only made the situation more confusing.

Just as mind-bending was Pia's implication that Josh might be interested in her. He wasn't. His ex-wife had been some gorgeous actress. Charity was going to
have to go online and find out who, exactly. But the point was, he was not someone orbiting in her universe. Interested? On what planet?

Yes, they'd had sex, but only because they'd both been carried away by the moment. Her more literally, but still. She refused to read too much into a single evening of hot lovemaking. That's how hearts got broken.

She did her best to push any thoughts of Josh out of her mind, only to have them resurface when she saw his offices up ahead. Maybe she should simply ask the question outright. Why was he giving her a deal on a house when he didn't have to? Asking him was the adult, mature thing to do. She squared her shoulders and walked into the building.

* * *

“T
HERE'S SOMEONE HERE
to see you,” Eddie told Josh. “She doesn't have an appointment.
She
being the operative word here. Although I'll give her credit. She's not like the usual groupies who come looking for you. She's out of her teens, for one thing, and dressed like a regular person.”

Josh wasn't in the mood to dash anyone's hopes this afternoon. He had a lot to deal with, including figuring out how he was going to start training—a relatively easy problem to solve—while dealing with an irrational inability to ride with other people. A problem with a less clear solution.

“You can handle her,” he told Eddie.

“I can, but I don't want to. She claims you know her. Charity Jones.”

He was out of his seat before she'd finished speaking. “Why didn't you say so?”

“I just did. Are you giving me attitude?”

He ignored her outrage and went out to the reception area. Charity stood in the center, looking nervous and determined. She managed a faint smile, which made him want to promise to fix whatever problem she had.

“I didn't have an appointment,” she told him. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. You don't need an appointment.”

“It would be nice if
someone
made one,” Eddie said with a sniff.

Josh pointed to her desk. Eddie sighed heavily before returning to it. He put his hand on the small of Charity's back, leading her to his office and then closing the door behind them.

“Your assistant has a lot of personality,” Charity said.

“She's efficient and takes care of me.”

“I like her.”

“Me, too. Not that I want her to know.”

Charity's smile turned genuine. “She'd use it against you forever.”

“Tell me about it.”

He motioned to the sofa and chairs in the corner. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”

“I'm fine. I just had lunch with Pia.” She sat in a chair.

He took the center of the sofa. “What's going on?”

She clasped her hands together. “I'm not sure where to start.”

She didn't sound worried, which was good. As he didn't have a clue as to what she wanted to talk about, he simply waited. Checking out the view filled the seconds. She wore a short jacket over a lacy shirt and black pants. Very “woman in charge,” a look he enjoyed. It made him think about taming that power, and making the lady in question weak with longing.

“That house we went to,” she began, forcing him to ignore the fantasy of a naked Charity writhing under him.

“You want to make an offer?”

“Not exactly. You own that house.”

He wasn't sure how she found out, but he wasn't surprised, either.

“Does it matter who's selling it?”

She drew in a breath. “You've had other offers. People who can pay more than me.”

“I put a lot into that house. I want it to go to the right person.”

“You're giving me a break on the price that you're not giving them.”

Normally he would have been happy to take credit for being a great guy, but there was something in her tone, in the way she stared so intently.

“And that's bad why?” he asked.

“How much of the town do you own?” she asked. “I know about the hotel. Do you own this building? More houses?”

“Want to see a profit and loss statement? My accountant prepares one every quarter.”

“No. Of course not. But you're rich.”

“By some definitions.”

She shook her head. “Don't play games. You're successful and rich and gorgeous and great in bed.” She sucked in a breath. “Well, I can't say about the ‘in bed' part, but you obviously know what you're doing and you do it well. And you're nice.”

Her tone told him she wasn't trying to compliment him. The last statement had come out like an accusation.

“Okay,” he said neutrally.

She stood, so he rose. She faced him.

“It's so not fair. Why can't this be easier?” she asked.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. Answering the question would be less of a problem if he knew what they were talking about. “I, ah…”

“Sure. For you,” she grumbled. “You get whoever you want. You practically have women being delivered by room service.”

“I don't do that.”

“I know. I didn't mean that, exactly. It's just you could if you wanted. And you don't, which means more points for you.”

“Charity? What are we talking about?”

She glared at him. “My life. My sucky love life. I don't get it. Is it genetic? Karma? Did I do something bad in a previous life?”

He stood there, feeling helpless. “There's nothing wrong with you.” She was pretty and smart and funny and when she smiled at him, he had the feeling that he could do just about anything.

“Isn't there? Look at Robert. Isn't he nice? Calm and pleasant and looking to settle down. But there's not a scrap of chemistry. I couldn't do it. I tried, but I couldn't do it. And he would fall in the column of my more successful relationships. My first boyfriend hit me. Just once, but he did it.”

Josh's hands curled into fists. “Where is he now?” he asked, his voice low and angry.

“It was ten years ago,” she said. “I walked out and never saw him again. But still. It made me wonder. My second serious boyfriend cleaned out my savings account. Talk about feeling stupid. The last one…” She sighed. “I'm not even going there. It's too humiliating. And now there's you. I like you. I like you a lot. Which means all I can think is if I like you then what on earth is wrong with you?”

With that, she turned and left.

Josh stood in the center of his office, trying not to grin like a fool. She liked him? Hot damn!

* * *

C
HARITY STALKED OUT
of Josh's office, feeling foolish and exposed and a thousand other things that weren't
very pleasant. Her head was spinning, her chest felt tight and if she were the type to give in to tears, she would be having a breakdown right here on the sidewalk.

Instead she kept moving, head held high, smiling at people on the street. She saw Morgan in his bookstore and waved at the old man. He grinned back.

Now that was a simple relationship, she thought, trying to grit her teeth. She understood all the elements of it. She and Morgan were friends. They said hello, talked about the weather and went on with their lives. No complications. No handsome, hunky guy messing with her head.

What had she been thinking, telling Josh she liked him? Were they in high school? “Tell Bobby I like him, but only if he says he likes me first.”

She was confused, upset and unsettled.

Despite the fact that her mother hadn't been the most maternal of women, Charity found herself wishing she was still alive so that she could ask for her advice. As silly as it sounded, right now she could use a hug from her mother. Or an aunt. Even a long-lost cousin would be good.

She walked into City Hall and started up the stairs. At the top, she passed Marsha, walking out of the break room with a cup of coffee.

“How was your lunch?” the mayor asked.

“Good. Pia's always fun.”

“She is. She was a bit of a terror when she was
younger.” Marsha frowned. “What's that expression? She was a mean girl.”

“Pia?” Charity couldn't imagine it.

“She was pretty and popular and wanted her way. Not a good combination in a teenager. But she turned out well.” Marsha sipped her coffee. “Is everything all right? I don't mean to pry, but you look… I'm not sure. If I had to pick, I would say you look sad.”

Charity forced herself to smile. “I'm fine. Missing my mom, a little. She died several years ago. I guess that's something you never get over.”

Marsha stiffened and the color drained from her face.

Charity moved toward her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Of course. The loss of a mother is always tragic. I still miss mine and she's been gone over thirty years.” Marsha squared her shoulders. “Charity, would you please come with me into my office.”

“Sure.”

Charity followed her. Something was wrong, she could feel it, but she had no idea what it was. Had she done something wrong? Had she crossed a line talking about something personal?

When they reached Marsha's office, the mayor did something Charity had never experienced before. Not in Fool's Gold. She closed her doors. Then she led the way to the small conversation area by the wall.