Читать книгу Chasing Perfect - Сьюзен Мэллери - Страница 6

THE FOX AND HOUND Restaurant was decorated the an American version of a classic English pub. Deep booths, a long wooden bar and English hunting prints on the wall. Charity was sure it was lovely, and later, when she was able to focus better, she would take it all in. Now all she could do was trail after the mayor as they were led to a quiet table by the window.

Charity took her seat across from the older woman and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to say a word until Marsha had explained herself.

Marsha began right away. “The problem started years ago. Men left to find better jobs and never came back. That was in my day and for some reason, it’s not getting better. The preliminary census numbers are a disaster. When the actual 2010 census comes out, it’s going to be a disaster—both in the press and in how the town sees itself. If we don’t get some men here for our young women to marry, they’ll start leaving, too, and then the town will die. That’s not going to happen on my watch.”

The mayor sounded fierce as she spoke. And determined.

Charity had reached for her water, mostly to buy time. A man shortage? Was this a joke? Part of a small-town initiation ritual?

“There are plenty of businesses that traditionally employ men,” she began slowly. “If you’re serious about this.”

“I am.” Marsha leaned toward her. “Fool’s Gold was a gold rush town, founded in the 1870s. It grew and prospered, and when the gold ran out, just after the turn of the century, it started to have problems.”

A waitress appeared with menus. She took their drink orders and left.

“Geographically, we’re blessed,” Marsha continued. “That kept us from disappearing completely. The original ski resort was built in the fifties, the vineyards west of here are at least sixty years old. So far we’re holding our own. There are plenty of service industries, some small businesses. Ethan Hendrix owns a construction company that has branched out into windmills, so he brings in a few men, but it’s not enough.”

Marsha shrugged. “I tell myself I should be thrilled by the women he employs. Equality and all that, but I can’t. Men leave here and we don’t know why. Topography? A Native curse? It’s getting out of hand. The young women in town are having trouble finding husbands. Worse, the few men we do have tend to find their wives elsewhere.”

Charity did her best to look both intelligent and interested. “I can see where that would be a difficult situation.” Intellectually she understood a growing population was essential for any town to survive. But a lack of men? Seriously? “You’ve investigated the Native curse issue?” she asked, when she couldn’t think of anything else.

Marsha laughed. “The only Natives who lived in the hills weren’t the curse type. My thought was if we’re bringing in business anyway, how could it hurt to focus on those with traditionally male jobs? Engineering, high tech, a second hospital. Of course hospitals do employ more women, but it would give us a great job base.”

Right. Because Charity could simply go online and order a hospital. She drew in a breath. She needed a little more time to process the information. A man shortage? She’d never heard of anything like that in her life. Not that she could blame the mayor for failing to mention it during the interview process. Talk about an easy way to terrify candidates.

“Over the next couple of days, as you get to know your way around town, I want you to do a mental head count. You’ll see for yourself that men are in desperately short supply. My biggest fear is that word will get out somehow. That a reporter somewhere will find out and start doing stories on the town.”

“Wouldn’t the attention help?”

“This town is special to all of us. We’re not interested in being considered an oddity. We just need to balance our population.”

Charity thought of Josh Golden. He was shiny enough for three men. Mayor Marsha should marry him off to one of the lonely single women.

“There is a bright spot in all this,” Marsha told her with a wink. “As you’re the one meeting with the business owners, you’ll get first pick of any of the men.”

“Lucky me,” Charity murmured, grateful the waitress reappeared and interrupted them. Charity wasn’t going to share the details of her social life, or lack thereof, with her new boss. And there was no reason to explain that she had been totally unsuccessful in the man department.

While avoiding her mother’s penchant for men who were too pretty by far was a good start, it didn’t guarantee a happy ending. So far Charity was practically the poster girl for romance disasters.

When they’d finished placing their orders, a curly-haired well-dressed woman walked up to the table. She was a little taller than Charity, and exuded style and sex appeal.

“So you’re the new girl,” the twenty-something woman said cheerfully. “Hi. I’m Pia O’Brian, Fool’s Gold’s own party planner.”

Marsha shook her head. “Event coordinator. It sounds better.”

“Maybe to you. I like the party aspect of my job.” Pia grinned at Charity. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“I don’t actually plan parties,” Pia admitted. “I organize the Spring Festival, the Summer Festival, the Fourth of July fireworks.”

“And the Fall Festival?” Charity asked.

Pia laughed. “Yes, but that comes after the End of Summer Festival and focuses on books. We’re a party crowd here.”

“Apparently.” The closest Charity had ever come to a town festival had been a craft show back in college. “I look forward to going to the events.”

“If only that were all that was involved,” Pia said dramatically. “You and I are going to have to talk. I’ll call and set up an appointment.”

“Should I be nervous?” Charity asked with a laugh.

“No. It’ll be fine. Enjoy your lunch,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed toward the door.

“She’s nice,” Charity said. And close to her age. Maybe Pia was a potential friend.

“Just so you know, Pia’s a lot more talk than action, at least when it comes to being bad.” Marsha shook her head. “Oh, Charity, you’re being thrown in the deep end. I hope that’s all right.”

“I was looking for a challenge,” Charity told her. Not to mention a job that was far away from her old one. She’d wanted a fresh start and the job in Fool’s Gold had offered exactly that.

“Good. I don’t want to scare you away on your first day. Maybe on your second.”

Charity laughed. “I don’t scare so easy. In fact, this weekend I’m going to drive around and get to know the different neighborhoods in town.”

“Thinking of buying a house?”

“Not right away, but in a couple of months. I want to settle down.” Having a permanent address and ties to a community had always been her fantasy.

“There are some lovely homes. Although with all the men who will be moving to town, you might want to wait a bit. You did mention you were single. Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.”

“Uh-huh,” Charity said and sipped her coffee. Mayor Marsha was very nice, but not the most subtle person.

As for Mr. Right—Charity wasn’t looking for perfect. She just wanted a nice guy who loved her as much as she loved him. Oh, and a man who was single, honest and faithful. Characteristics depressingly hard to find on the dating scene—at least in her experience.

“If anyone around town catches your eye,” Marsha said as their food was delivered. “Just ask me. I know everyone.”

Once again Charity’s brain flashed to Josh. Fifteen kinds of physically amazing and a thousand kinds of trouble, she thought grimly. She might not be able to ignore the weird way her body reacted when he was in the room, but she could do her best to ignore him. And she would. Even in a town as small as Fool’s Gold, it couldn’t be hard.

“YOU MAKE ME crazy. You know that, right?”

Josh continued to study his computer screen and ignore his assistant. Something he was good at. It came from years of practice.

Unfortunately Eddie wasn’t the type to take the hint. “I’m talking to you, Josh.”

“I knew that.” He turned his attention from the e-mail to his seventy-something assistant who stood with her hands on her hips.

Eddie Carberry wore her white hair in short curls. She liked heavy makeup and velour track suits. She had one for every day of the week. If it was Monday, she was wearing violet.

“They’re getting on my nerves,” she announced. “What the hell were you thinking? I know you’re not sleeping with them, so it’s not about sex. Don’t tell me you’re being nice, either. You know how I hate that.” Eddie glared at him as she spoke.

He knew better than to take her temper seriously, just as he knew the “they” in question were the three college-aged girls that were supposed to be helping her in the office.

“You said you wanted to cut back on your responsibilities,” he hedged. “You said you wanted a staff.”

Eddie rolled her eyes. “I said I wanted to look like Demi Moore, too, but I don’t see you doing anything about that. They’re not staff, they’re blonde and every cliché that goes with the hair color. All they want to talk about is you.” She raised her voice. “Josh is just so handsome,” she said in a mocking squeak. “Do you think he’s going to ask me out?”

She lowered her voice to its normal gravelly tone. “I thought you’d explained everything when you hired them.”

He winced. “I did. In detail.”

“Then you’re going to have to do it again.”

Apparently.

Young women had done everything from showing up in his bed naked and uninvited to claiming to be pregnant with his baby—all in a bid to get his attention. He understood the theory. If they belonged to someone the public perceived as special then they were special, as well. Telling them he wasn’t worth their time didn’t seem to get through. This summer he’d tried offering jobs instead, thinking the reality of working around him would allow them to see the man behind the myth. So far the plan wasn’t working.

“I could get more help out of a couple of cats,” Eddie grumbled. “And you know how I feel about cats.”

He did. She resented any creature who dared to shed on one of her track suits.

“I’ll talk to them,” he said.

“You’d better.” She lowered her arms to her sides, then walked toward his desk. “The storefront on Third leased out.”

He leaned back in his chair as she sat down. “Good.” It had been vacant nearly three months.

“The lease is at the attorney’s. I’ll pick it up later today for you to read.” She cleared her throat. “You have a request to ride in a charity race.”

“No.”

“It’s for sick kids.”

“It usually is.”

“You should do this one.”

She was trying to provoke him. For some reason Eddie believed if she could get him to yell, he would give in.

“It’s in Florida,” she said. “You could go to Disney World.”

“I’ve been to Disney World.”

“You need to get out, Josh. Ride again. You can’t—”

“Next?” he asked cutting her off.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed. He stared back.

She blinked first. “Fine. Be that way.” She sighed heavily, as if her life was nothing but pain. “I keep getting calls about a charity golf tournament. The sponsor has a connection with the ski resort and they’re thinking of holding it in town.”

Golf he could do. It wasn’t his sport, so excellence wasn’t expected or required. He could simply be charming for the cameras, raise some money and call it a day.

“Okay on the golf.”

“At least that’s something,” she grumbled. “I’ll have the sales figures for the sporting goods store later today. Preliminary numbers are good. The flyers did a nice job of bringing in business. Internet sales are up, too. Now if we could get a picture of you on some of the bikes we carry…”

He ignored her. Which meant looking away. One of the blondes walked by just then and assumed he was glancing at her rather than away from Eddie. The young woman smiled and slowed.

Damn.

Eddie turned and saw the girl. “Get back to work,” she snapped. “This isn’t about you.”

The girl pouted, but did as she was told.

“Did I say they make me crazy?” Eddie asked.

“More than once.”

“You need a girlfriend. If they think you’re with someone else, they’ll back off.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “I swear, Josh, there’s something about you. Women everywhere are just dying to be in your bed.”

He winced, not wanting to have this conversation with his septuagenarian assistant.

“I guess the good news is if you’d done it as much as they said, you’d be dead now.”

“A cheerful thought,” he said dryly.

Eddie stood. “I’ll be back later with those numbers.”

“I’ll count the hours.”

She barked a laugh as she left. Josh returned his gaze to the computer screen, but not his attention. The girls in his office were the least of his problems. What kept him up nights wasn’t the young women so convinced he was the answer to every prayer they’d ever had. It was the reality of knowing he was a total fraud and no one had seemed to figure that out.

OVER THE NEXT FEW days Charity continued to learn about her job and meet the rest of the staff. She noticed that every one of them was female, with the exception of Robert Anderson, the treasurer.

“Robert’s been with us five years,” Marsha said after a meeting on Wednesday, then excused herself to make a call to the county commissioner.

Robert was a nice-looking man in his early thirties. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he shook Charity’s hand. “You look a little surprised to see me. Is it because I’m a guy? Did the Mayor tell you about our little problem?”

“Yes, which must make you really popular.”

He grinned and motioned for her to follow him into his office, where they sat on opposite sides of his desk. “I do okay.”

“Did you know about the odds being in your favor when you took the job?”

He chuckled. “No, and I never noticed during my interviews. I was focused on the job, not the surroundings. Not very observant, I guess. About the second week after I moved here, I realized that a lot of women were dropping in to welcome me.”

Charity was still having trouble grasping the whole “man shortage” concept. “It’s real then—the demographic issue?”

“A very delicate way of putting things. Yes, it’s real. I haven’t figured out why, not that I put a lot of thought into it. Men don’t stay. Or move here. Statistically in an average population, more male babies are born than female babies. It’s around one hundred and ten male babies for every one hundred female babies. But more males die before the age of eighteen, and by middle age there are more women in any given population. Except here. There are more females of every age group.”

Charity had thought the fried computer and seeing Josh Golden’s butt on her assistant’s screen saver would be the strangest parts of her week.

“I’m speechless,” she admitted. “I don’t say that often.”

Robert laughed. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not for you. Not only are you one of the precious few, you haven’t been instructed to bring in more male-based businesses.”

His laugh turned into a wince. “Marsha said that?”

“It was a clear directive.” She glanced at Robert’s left hand. “Hmm, I don’t see a wedding ring there. Why aren’t you doing your part for the town by being married?”

He held up both hands, palms facing her. “I tried. I got engaged. We broke things off when we realized we had different ideas about family. I wanted kids, she didn’t. She moved to Sacramento.”

“One less single female to worry about,” Charity murmured, wondering if some TV personality was going to jump out of a closet and tell her she’d been part of an elaborate hoax. As much as she wouldn’t enjoy the humiliation, it would be kind of nice to find out the mayor had been kidding about the man thing. Not that she thought her luck was that good.

Then she realized her response to Robert had been slightly less than sensitive. “Oh, wait. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry your engagement didn’t work out.”

He shrugged. “It was a while ago. I’m dating again.”

“Are they rejoicing in the streets?”

“There was a parade last week.”

“Sorry I missed that. I met Pia O’Brian a couple of days ago. It seems there are a lot of parades in Fool’s Gold.”

“Festivals,” he corrected. “It’s our thing. There’s one nearly every month. It brings in tourists and the locals seem to love them. Is this your first small town?”

She nodded. “I’ve mostly grown up in large suburbs, which isn’t the same thing. I’m looking forward to the change.”

“Just be aware that everyone knows everything about everyone. There aren’t any secrets. But I grew up in a place like this. I wouldn’t want to be in the big city.” He leaned toward her. “We should grab lunch sometime. I could fill you in on small town eccentricities.”

Robert was nice, she thought, looking into his dark eyes. Smart, with a good sense of humor. “I’d like that.”

She paused, hoping for a slight whisper of anticipation, a quiver or a hint of physical reaction. Something. Anything.

Nothing, she thought with a sigh, refusing to think about her amazing reaction to Josh Golden. It had been a blood sugar thing. Or too much coffee and not enough sleep. Robert was a better choice by far.

She was about to excuse herself when her gaze fell on a plastic toy on Robert’s desk. It was a bobblehead and the oversized head looked oddly familiar.

“Is that…”

“Josh Golden,” Robert told her. “Have you met him?”

“Um, yes.” The man had his own bobbleheads?

“What did you think?” Robert’s voice was casual but she thought she saw a flash of something intense in his gaze.

“I didn’t have time to think anything,” she said, telling herself it was nearly the truth. Not being able to breathe meant fewer functioning brain cells.

“He’s pretty famous. A cyclist. Tour de France, and all that.”

“I’m not much of a sports fan,” she admitted. “Why is he here and not out racing?”

“He retired a while ago. All the women here go crazy for him. He has a reputation for being something of a ladies man. You’ll probably fall for him.”

Charity stared at Robert. “Excuse me?”

“It’s inevitable. No woman is able to resist him.”

Talk about a challenge, she thought, a little annoyed. “There must be at least one who’s said no.”

“I haven’t heard of her. But Josh isn’t in it for anything but the thrill of the chase.”

Some of her pleasure at the conversation faded. “Is that a warning?”

“No. I’d, ah…” He glanced at her. “I’d really like you to be different, Charity.”

His gaze was warm, which was nice. She smiled.

“I’ll do my best,” she said. “I’m not really the groupie type.”

“Good.”

She stood. “I need to get back to work. It was nice to meet you.”

He rose as well. “The pleasure is all mine.”

A nice man, she thought as she left. On the surface, everything she was looking for. Of course the handful of other men who had been in her life could have fit that description, as well. But they had all been disasters.

She hadn’t come to Fool’s Gold to fall in love, she reminded herself. She’d come for a job and to put down roots. Although falling in love with the right guy and getting married would be really nice. Having a family had always been part of her dream.

There was time, she thought as she made her way back to her office. Robert might not make her heart go into arrhythmia, but that could be for the best. She’d learned her lesson several times over. She was going to be completely sensible when it came to her personal life. Sensible and calm and rational. Anything else would just blow up in her face—she was sure of it.

THE REST OF CHARITY’S work week passed quickly. She met more of the city council members—all women—and familiarized herself with ongoing development projects. Sheryl left at four-thirty nearly every day, but Charity worked later. On Thursday, she stayed until nearly seven, when her stomach growled loudly enough to break her concentration. She glanced out her window and was surprised to see that it was dark.

After shutting down her shiny new computer, she collected her handbag, a briefcase filled with files she would review after she had dinner, and left.

The building was quiet and a little spooky. She walked quickly out onto the street where a cool breeze made her wish for a slightly thicker coat. The coldest day of winter in Henderson, a suburb of Las Vegas, had been warmer than this early-spring evening in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.

Fortunately, the hotel was only a couple of blocks away. Charity hurried along the sidewalk. When she reached the corner, she saw an old man sweeping the front steps of the bookshop she’d already visited at lunch. He nodded at her, then paused.

“Now, I don’t know you,” he said, squinting at her in the light from the streetlamp. “Do I?”

His tone was friendly. She smiled.

“I’m Charity Jones, the new city planner.”

“Are you now? You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? All young ladies are pretty, even the ones that aren’t.” He chuckled then gave a wheezy cough. “I’m Morgan. Just Morgan. This is my bookstore.”

“Oh. It’s wonderful. I’ve already shopped here twice.”

“I must have missed you. Next time we’ll talk. You tell me what you like to read and I’ll make sure it’s in stock.”

Talk about small-town service, she thought, delighted. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

“My pleasure. You know your way home?”

“I’m staying at Ronan’s Lodge.”

“That’s just down two blocks. I’ll stand here and make sure you make it. You turn back and give me a wave when you reach the steps.”

His offer was unexpected. She wasn’t worried about anything happening between here and the hotel, but it was nice to know that someone would notice if it did.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.”

He winked at her. “I’ve been called a lot of different things, Charity, but I’ll accept kind. You have yourself a nice night.”

“I will.”

She walked the rest of the way to the hotel. Once she reached the steps leading to the lobby, she turned back. Morgan was watching. She gave a wave and he raised his hand in return. Then he went back to sweeping.

She was going to like it here, she decided. While every place had its quirks, there was a lot to appreciate in Fool’s Gold.

She paused before pushing through the double doors leading to the inside of the hotel. They were large and heavily carved, the workmanship from another era.

Ronan’s Lodge, also known as Ronan’s Folly, was a huge hotel on the edge of the lake. It had been built when gold flowed like the rivers the men panned it from. Ronan McGee, an Irish immigrant, had come west to make his fortune, then he’d spent much of what he’d earned to create the hotel.

Charity had read its history the last time she’d been in town. She’d been unable to sleep the night before her interview and had read all the tourist brochures in her room.

Now, as she walked into the large lobby, with the carved wood panels on the walls and the massive imported chandelier made of Irish crystal, she felt a sense of homecoming. Eventually she would buy a house and settle in to life in Fool’s Gold, but Ronan’s Lodge was the best kind of temporary housing.

She walked past the registration desk, toward the curved staircase that would take her to the second floor. From there a smaller staircase wound up to the third floor, where she had a small suite.

She’d barely put her hand on the banister, had yet to take even that first step, when someone spoke. The voice came from behind her and spoke only a single word.

“Hello.”

She didn’t have to look to know who was talking. All she had to do was stand there, feeling her heart race uncontrollably in her chest as heat and awareness flooded her.

Her week had begun with a Josh Golden invasion and it seemed it would end that way, as well. The only question she had as she braced herself before turning to face him was why, of all the men in all the world, it had to be him.