Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (80 page)

“Hi,” she called. “Sorry I'm late.”

The man turned.

There was a window behind him, so she couldn't see his face, but she knew her schedule for the morning and the name of the man who was her next appointment. Raoul Moreno was tall, with huge shoulders. Despite the unusually cool September day, he hadn't bothered with a coat. Instead he wore a V-neck sweater over dark jeans.

A man's man, she thought unexpectedly. Which made sense. Raoul Moreno was a former professional football player. He'd been a quarterback with the Dallas Cowboys. After ten years in the game, he'd retired on top and
had disappeared from public view. Last year he'd shown up in Fool's Gold for a pro-am charity golf tournament. For reasons she couldn't figure out, he'd stayed.

As she got closer, she took in the large dark eyes, the handsome face. There was a scar on his cheek—probably from protecting an old lady during a mugging. He had a reputation for being nice. Pia made it a rule never to trust nice people.

“Ms. O'Brian,” he began. “Thanks for seeing me.”

She unlocked her office door and motioned for him to go inside.

“Pia, please. My ‘Ms. O'Brian' years are looming, but I'm not ready for them yet.”

He was good-looking enough that she should have been distracted. Under other circumstances, she probably would have been. But at the moment, she was too busy wondering if the chemo treatments had scrambled Crystal's brain. Her friend had always seemed so rational. Obviously that had been a facade.

Pia motioned to the visitor chair in front of her desk and hung her coat on the rack by the door.

Her office was small but functional. There was a good-size main room with a custom three-year calendar covering most of one wall. The squares were half dry-erase material and half corkboard.

Posters for various Fool's Gold festivals took up the rest of the wall space. She had a storage room and a half bath in the rear, several cabinets and a filing system that bordered on compulsively organized. As a rule she made it a point to visit rather than have people come to her, but scheduling-wise, having Raoul stop by had made the most sense.

Of course that had been before she'd found out she'd been left three very frozen potential children.

She crossed to the small refrigerator in the corner. “I have diet soda and water.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You're not the diet type.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Are you asking or telling?”

She smiled. “Am I wrong?”

“Water's fine.”

“I knew it.”

She collected a bottle and a can, then returned to her desk. After handing him the bottle, she took a seat and stared at the yellow pad in front of her. There was writing on it, very possibly in English. She could sort of make out individual letters but not words and certainly not sentences.

They were supposed to have a meeting about something. That much was clear. She handled the city festivals in town. There were over a dozen civic events that she ran every year. But her mind didn't go any further than that. When she tried to remember why Raoul was here, she went blank. Her brain was filled with other things.

Babies. Crystal had left her babies. Okay, embryos, but the implication was clear. Crystal wanted her children to be born. Which meant someone was going to have to get them implanted, grow them and later give birth. Although that was terrifying enough, there was also the further horror of raising them.

Children weren't like cats. She knew that much. They would need more than dry food, a bowl of water and a clean litter box. A lot more.

“Oh, God, I can't do this,” she whispered.

Raoul frowned. “I don't understand. Do you want to reschedule the meeting?”

Meeting? Oh, right. He was here for something. His camp and he wanted her to…

Her mind went blank, again. Right after the merciful emptiness, there was panic. Deep to the bone, intestine-wrenching panic.

She stood and wrapped her arms around her midsection, breathing hard and fast.

“I can't do this. It's impossible. What was she thinking? She had to know better.”

“Pia?”

Her visitor rose. She turned to tell him that rescheduling was probably a good idea when the room began to spin. It turned and turned, darkening on the edges.

The next thing she knew, she was in her chair, bent over at the waist, her head between her knees with something pressing down on the back of her neck.

“This is uncomfortable,” she said.

“Keep breathing.”

“Easier said than done. Let go.”

“A couple more breaths.”

The pressure on the back of her neck lessened. Slowly, she straightened and blinked.

Raoul Moreno was crouched next to her, his dark eyes cloudy with concern. She took another breath and realized he smelled really good. Clean, but with a hint of something else.

“You all right?” he asked.

“What happened?”

“You started to faint.” Raoul met her gaze as her eyes widened, and, despite the bigger things crowding her thoughts, she couldn't miss the zing of interest.

She blinked, and shook her head. “I don't faint. I never faint. I—” Her memory returned. “Oh, crap.” She covered her face with her hands. “I'm so not ready to be a mother.”

Raoul moved with a speed that was a credit to his physical conditioning and nearly comical at the same time.

“Man trouble?” he asked cautiously from a safer few inches away.

“What?” She lowered her hands. “No. I'm not pregnant. That would require sex. Or not. Actually it wouldn't, would it? This is so not happening.”

“Okay.” He sounded nervous. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No, but you can go if you want. I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you commenting on my appearance?”

He grinned. “I wouldn't dare.”

“That sounded almost critical.”

“You know what I meant.”

She did. “I'm okay. I've had a bit of a shock. A friend of mine died recently. She was married to a guy in the army. Before he was shipped off to Iraq, they decided to do in vitro, just in case something happened to him. So she could have his kids.”

“Sad, but it makes sense.”

She nodded. “He was killed a couple of years ago. She took it really hard, but after a while, she decided she would have the babies. At least a part of him would live on, right?”

Pia rose and paced the length of the office. Moving seemed to help. She took a couple of cautious breaths,
to make sure she was going to stay conscious. Fainting? Impossible. Yet the world really had started to blur.

She forced herself back to the topic at hand.

“She went to the doctor for a routine physical,” she continued. “They discovered she had lymphoma. And not the good kind.”

“There's a good kind?”

She shrugged. “There's a kind that can usually be cured. She didn't have that one. And then she was gone. I have her cat. I thought I'd be keeping him. We have a relationship. Sort of. It's hard to tell with a cat.”

“They keep to themselves.”

There was something about the way he spoke. She glared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No.”

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Don't mess with me,” she told him. “Or I'll talk about my feelings.”

“Anything but that.”

She returned to her desk and sank into the chair. “She didn't leave me the cat. She left me the embryos. I don't know what to do. I don't know what she was thinking. Babies. God—anyone but me. And I can't ignore it. Them. That's what the attorney hinted at. That I could let it go for a while because the ‘fees' are paid for three years.” She looked at him. “I guess that's the frozen part. Maybe I should go see them.”

“They're embryos. What's there to see?”

“I don't know. Something. Can't they put them under a microscope? Maybe if I saw them, I would understand.” She stared at him as if he had the answer. “Why did she think I could raise her children?”

“I'm sorry, Pia. I don't know.”

He looked uncomfortable. His gaze lingered on the door. Reality returned and with it, a sense of embarrassment.

“I'm so sorry,” she murmured, standing. “We'll reschedule. I'll compose myself and be much better next time. Let me look over my calendar and give you a call.”

He reached for the door handle, then paused. “Are you sure you're going to be all right?”

No, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything. But that wasn't Raoul's problem.

She forced a smile. “I'm great. Seriously, you should go. I'm going to call a couple of girlfriends and let them talk me down.”

“Okay.” He hesitated. “You have my number?”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn't sure if she did, but she was determined to let him escape while she still had a shred of dignity. “The next time you see me, I'll be professionalism personified. I swear.”

“Thanks. You take care.”

“Bye.”

He left.

When the door closed, she sank back into her chair. After lowering her arms to the desk, she rested her head on them and did her best to keep breathing.

Crystal had left her the embryos. There were only two questions that mattered. Why, and what the hell was Pia supposed to do now?

* * *

R
AOUL ARRIVED AT
R
ONAN
Elementary shortly before two. He parked in the lot by the playground. No surprise—his was the only Ferrari in the parking lot. He was a guy who liked his toys, so sue him.

Before he could climb out of the car, his cell phone rang. He checked his watch—he had a few minutes before he was due inside—then the phone number on the screen. As he pushed the talk button, he grinned.

“Hey, Coach.”

“Hey, yourself,” Hawk, his former high school football coach, said. “Nicole hasn't heard from you in a while and I'm calling to find out why.”

Raoul laughed. “I talked to your beautiful wife last week, so I know that's not why you're calling.”

“You got me. I'm checking on you. Making sure you're moving on with your life.”

That was Hawk, Raoul thought with equal parts frustration and appreciation. Cutting right to the heart of what was wrong.

“You had some bad stuff happen,” the older man continued. “Don't wallow.”

“I'm not wallowing. I'm busy.”

“You're in your head too much. I know you. Find a cause. Get personally involved in your new town. It'll distract you. You can't change what happened.”

Raoul's good humor faded. Hawk was right about that. The past couldn't be undone. Those who were gone stayed gone. No amount of bargaining, no sum of money, made it better.

“I can't let it go,” he admitted.

“You'll have to. Maybe not today, but soon. Believe in the possibility of healing, Raoul. Open yourself up to other people.”

It seemed impossible, but he'd been trusting Hawk for nearly twenty years. “I'll do my best.”

“Good. Call Nicole.”

“I will.”

They hung up.

Raoul sat in his car for a few more seconds, thinking about what Hawk had told him. Get involved. Find a cause. What the other man didn't know was how much Raoul wanted to avoid that. Getting involved is what had caused the problem in the first place. Life was much safer lived at a distance.

He got out of his car and collected the small duffel he'd brought with him. Whenever he visited a school, he brought a few official NFL footballs and player cards. It made the kids happy, and that's why he was here. To entertain and maybe slip in a little motivation when they weren't looking.

He glanced at the main school building. It was older but well-kept. He usually spoke to high-school-aged kids, but the principal and class teacher had both been persistent to the point of stalking. He was new to small-town life and was figuring out the rules as he went. As he planned to settle in Fool's Gold permanently, he'd decided to err on the side of cooperation.

He stepped toward the main walkway, then made his way into the building. Unlike the inner-city schools he usually visited, there weren't any metal detectors or even a guard. The double doors stood open, the halls were wide and well-lit, the walls free of graffiti. Like the rest of Fool's Gold, the school was almost too good to be true.

He followed the signs to the main office and found himself in a big open area with a long counter. There were the usual bulletin boards with flyers for book drives and after-school programs. A dark-haired woman sat at a desk, typing on an ancient-looking computer.

“Morning,” he said.

The woman—probably in her midthirties—looked up. Her mouth fell open as she stood and waved her hands. “Oh, God. You're here. You're really here! I can't believe it.” She hurried toward him. “Hi. I'm Rachel. My dad is a huge fan. He's going to die when he finds out I met you.”

“I hope not,” Raoul said easily, pulling a card out of the bag and reaching for a pen.

“What?”

“I hope he doesn't die.”

Rachel laughed. “He won't, but he'll be so jealous. I heard you were coming. And here you are. This is just so exciting. Raoul Moreno in our school.”

“What's your dad's name?”

“Norm.”

He signed the card and passed it to her. “Maybe this will help him deal with his disappointment.”

She took the paper reverently and placed a hand on her chest. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.” She glanced at the clock, then sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Mrs. Miller's class now.”

“I should probably get started talking to the kids.”

“Right. That's why you're here. It's been wonderful to meet you.”

“You, too, Rachel.”

She came out from behind the counter, then led him back into the hallway. As they walked, she chatted about the school and the town, all the while glancing at him with a combination of appreciation and flirtatiousness. It came with the territory and he'd learned a long time ago not to take the attention seriously.