Fool's Gold Collection Part 1: Chasing Perfect / Almost Perfect / Sister of the Bride / Finding Perfect
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