Finding Perfect (5 page)

Moving his hands to her shoulders, he stepped back far enough to see her face.

“You're not a bad person,” he said firmly. “A bad person would walk away from the embryos without a second thought. As to taking your time to make the decision, why wouldn't you? Having Crystal's babies will change everything about your life. You're allowed to have a plan.”

“But she's my friend. I should…”

He shook his head. “No. Crystal didn't give you a head's up. This was dumped on you, Pia. Give yourself a break.”

She drew in another breath. “Okay. Maybe.”

Her eyes were large and filled with concern. Her mouth trembled. There was something vulnerable about her. Part of him wondered why Crystal
hadn't
warned Pia in advance. Had it been the other woman's advancing illness or something else? Had she not wanted to give Pia a choice?

Instead of finding an answer, he became aware of them standing very close together. He could feel the warmth of her body, the delicate bones under his fingers.
She was tall but still had to look up to meet his gaze. Her curls brushed the backs of his hands. Her lips parted slightly, which made him want to lean in and—

He moved back with the speed that had gotten him signed by the Cowboys, then carefully tucked his hands into his jeans pockets.

Where the hell had that thought come from? Pia wasn't for kissing. No one here was. He planned to live in Fool's Gold for a long time. If he wanted entertainment, he would take it somewhere else. Not here. Besides, since Caro, he
hadn't
been interested. This was not the time for that to change.

Apparently Pia hadn't noticed. Instead of being hurt or annoyed, she gave him a smile.

“Thanks. You've been great. I'm sorry I keep freaking out on you.”

“You're dealing with a lot,” he said carefully.

“I know, but this is business. For what it's worth, I really am a calm, rational person. Professional even. You probably don't want to take my word for it, but you can ask around.”

He forced a chuckle. “Don't worry about it.”

“I will, because I believe in worrying early and often. I'd promise to let you speak to my assistant next time, only I don't have one. And with the fire and all, the town can't afford to pay for one.”

“I can talk to you, Pia.”

“At least I didn't faint this time.”

“Improvement.”

She sighed. “You're nice, aren't you? I don't trust nice men.” She winced, then held up a hand. “Don't take that wrong.”

“There's a right way?”

“I'm just saying…” She shook her head, then grabbed her bag. “I'll leave you with the paperwork. We can talk about the festivals and your camp later, if that's okay. I really need to gather the tattered remains of my dignity and move on. Next time we meet, I swear I'll be totally calm and rational. You'll barely recognize me.”

He didn't want her to go. For reasons he couldn't explain, he wanted to pull her close again and tell her—

What? What was he going to say? He barely knew her. She had other things to deal with. The meeting didn't matter.

But the problem wasn't the meeting, and Raoul knew that. There was something about Pia. About how she got right to the heart of the problem. She was an intriguing combination of determined, vulnerable and impulsive. If she wasn't careful, life would beat the crap out of her. Only the strong survived, and even they had to take a hit now and again.

Not his problem, he reminded himself. Nor did he want it to be.

“I'll recognize you,” he told her. “You're making too much of this.”

“So speaks a man who likely has never been hysterical even once in his entire life.” She met his eyes. “Thanks for being so…nice.”

“Even though it makes you not trust me?”

She winced. “I'm going to regret saying that forever.”

“No. I'm sure you'll have other, bigger regrets that fill your mind.”

“Ouch. That's not very encouraging.”

“We all have regrets. Things we want to change or
undo. Nothing about today is worth a second of your worry.”

She hesitated. “I thought you'd be different. Cynical. Self-absorbed. You know—a sports star.”

“You should have met me ten years ago.”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Wild and impetuous?”

“A typical college jock. My high school girlfriend dumped me my freshman year. I spent a few months feeling sorry for myself, healed and returned to my sophomore year only to discover I was a god.”

“Did you perform miracles?”

“I thought I could.”

“I'm glad to know you went through a bad-boy period.”

“Mine lasted several years.”

Right through his signing with the Cowboys and beyond. He'd been on the team just over a year when Eric Hawkins—otherwise known as Hawk—had burst into his hotel room, waking Raoul and the twins he'd been sleeping with.

Hawk had been his high school football coach and mentor. He'd ushered the girls out of the room, nearly drowned Raoul in coffee, then had taken him to the gym for a workout that had no pity on Raoul's impressive hangover.

But that hadn't been the worst of it. The really bad part had been the disappointment in Hawk's eyes. The silence that said he'd expected better.

“What changed you?” she asked.

“Someone I care about had expectations and I let him down.”

“Your dad?”

“Better than my dad. It's impossible to have nothing to lose when someone loves you.”

She blinked. “That was profound.”

“Don't tell anyone.”

“You saw the light and let go of your bad-boy ways?”

“Pretty much.”

After the workout, Hawk had taken Raoul to the poor side of Dallas, driving past people living out of shopping carts.

“Get over yourself,” was all his former coach had said.

Raoul had gone home feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. The next day he'd moved out of the hotel, bought a house in a normal neighborhood and had started volunteering.

Two years later he'd met Caro at a charity ball, which had proved life wasn't perfect.

“So you believe people can change,” she said.

“Don't you?”

“I'm not sure. Does the meanness go away or does it just get covered up?”

“Who was mean to you?”

She sighed. “And here I was supposed to gather up my tattered dignity and just go. You've been great. I'll be in touch, Raoul. Thanks for everything.”

She walked out of the office.

Not sure if he should go after her, he hesitated. Then Dakota stepped in from the back and stared at him.

“Did I hear that right?”

Raoul shifted uneasily. “It depends on what you heard.”

“You knew Keith Westland?”

He nodded.

She crossed toward him and sank onto the chair Pia had used. “I won't say anything, of course. About you knowing him or the babies. This is a lot to take in. Talk about responsibility. I guess I knew that Crystal would have to leave her embryos to someone, but I never really thought about it. Did Pia know before?”

He remembered his first meeting with her. “I don't think so. She thought she was getting the cat.”

“Right. She was taking care of Crystal's cat.” Dakota looked stunned. “What's with Crystal not warning her? You can't just leave someone potential children and not even give them a hint. Or maybe she knew Pia would freak and didn't want to be talked out of it.” Dakota glanced at him. “Is she okay?”

“She's dealing. She's surprised Crystal picked her.”

“Really? I'm not. Pia might not be the obvious choice, but she makes sense. She would do the right thing.” Dakota laughed. “After some serious kicking and screaming. Wow—Pia's going to have Crystal's babies.”

“She hasn't decided that yet.”

Dakota glanced at him. “Do you really think she'll walk away from those babies?”

He shook his head. He couldn't see it, but then he'd been wrong before.

He took the chair behind the desk. “You and Crystal and Pia all grew up in town together?”

“Oh, yeah. Crystal was a few years older, but she was one of those really nice people who wanted to take care of the world. She worked at the library after school. She was always there to help with school projects.” Dakota
wrinkled her nose. “I can't believe I'm old enough to remember when there wasn't an Internet.”

“You're twenty-seven.”

“Practically ancient.” She laughed. “Pia was a grade ahead of me and my sisters, but we knew her. Or at least of her.” Her eyes brightened with humor. “Pia was one of the popular girls. Pretty, great clothes. She had the boyfriends everyone else wanted.”

The humor faded. “Then her dad died and her mom went away. Everything changed for her. Back in high school I would have sworn Pia was taking off for New York or L.A. Instead she stayed here.”

Which meant something had happened to her.

“I guess it's where she belongs,” Dakota murmured.

“You came back, as well,” he said. “There must be something about this place.”

“You're right.” She laughed. “Be careful, Raoul. If you stay too long, you'll never escape.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

But the truth was, he wanted a place to call home. Somewhere that felt right.

There had been a time when he'd wanted it all—a wife and a family. Now he was less sure. Back when he'd married her, he would have sworn he knew everything about Caro. That nothing she did would ever surprise him.

He'd been wrong, and in finding out the truth about what she'd done, a part of him had been destroyed. Pia had asked if he thought people could change. He did, because he'd seen it over and over again. But broken trust was different. Even if it was repaired, it was never the same again. There would always be cracks.

O
NE OF THE PERKS
of her job was that although Pia was a part of city government, she didn't have to participate in any of the really boring stuff. Sure, once a year she had to present a budget, and she was accountable for every penny. But that was easily done on a good spreadsheet program. When it came to the city council meetings, she was strictly a visitor, not a regular.

So when the mayor called Pia and asked her to attend an emergency session, she found herself feeling a little nervous as she took her seat at the long conference table.

“What's up?” she asked Charity, the city planner. “Marsha sounded less than calm, which is unusual for her.”

“I'm not sure,” Charity admitted. “I know she wanted to talk about the school fire.”

Which made sense, but why would Pia have to be there for that?

“How are you feeling?” she asked her friend.

Charity was about four months along. “Great. A little puffy, although no one seems to notice but me.” She grinned. “Or they're lying. I'm good with either option.”

Charity had moved to town in early spring. In a matter of a few weeks, she'd fallen for professional cyclist Josh
Golden, gotten pregnant and discovered she was the mayor's long-lost granddaughter.

Josh and Charity had slipped away for a quiet wedding and were now awaiting the birth of their first child. Marsha was thrilled at the thought of a great-grandchild.

Just another day in Fool's Gold, Pia thought cheerfully. There was always something going on.

Pia glanced around at the other women at the meeting. There were the usual suspects, along with a few surprises including Police Chief Alice Barns. Why would the police chief need to attend a city council meeting? Nancy East sat close to the front. No doubt the superintendent of schools would have information they all needed.

Before Pia could ask Charity, Marsha hurried in and took her seat at the head of the table.

The mayor was as well-dressed as always. She favored tailored suits and wore her white hair pulled back in a tidy bun.

“Sorry I'm late,” Marsha said. “I was on the phone. Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”

There was a murmur of people saying it was fine.

“We have a preliminary report on the fire,” Marsha said, glancing down at the pages she held. “Apparently it began in the furnace. Because of the unusually cool few days we had earlier in the week, it was turned on before it was serviced. The fire spread quickly, as did the smoke.”

“I heard that no one was hurt,” Gladys said. The older woman had served as the city manager for several years and was currently acting as treasurer.

“That's true. We had a few minor injuries, but
everyone was treated on the scene and released.” Marsha looked at them, her blue eyes dark with concern. “We're still assessing the damage, but we're talking millions of dollars. We do have insurance and that will help, but it won't cover everything.”

“You mean the deductible?” one of the council members asked.

“There's that, which is sizable enough. But there are other considerations. Books, lesson plans, computers, supplies. As I said, some will be covered, but not everything. The state will offer assistance, but that takes time. Which leads me into the next topic. Where to put all those children? I refuse to let this fire disrupt their education. Nancy?”

Nancy East, a bright, plump woman in her late thirties, opened a notebook in front of her.

“I agree with Marsha—keeping the children in school is our first priority. We considered splitting them up among the other three elementary schools, but there simply isn't enough room. Even with portable classrooms, the infrastructure can't support that many additions. There isn't enough space in the cafeteria or on the playground. There aren't enough bathrooms.”

Some of the tension in her face eased. “Fortunately, we have a solution. Raoul Moreno has offered his camp. I toured the facility yesterday, and it's going to work beautifully for us.”

Pia leaned back in her chair. The camp was an obvious choice, she thought. It was big and had plenty of buildings. It was closed in the winter, so they wouldn't be displacing anyone.

“There are some logistics for our classes,” Nancy continued. “Our maintenance staff is up there right now,
figuring out the best configurations. There is a main building where we'll have assemblies and where the cafeteria will be. Calls have gone out to schools all around the state for extra supplies, including desks, blackboards, dry-erase boards, buses. We're making an appeal to the commercial suppliers. As Marsha mentioned, the state will be offering some assistance.”

She turned to Pia. “I need your help, Pia.”

“Sure. What can I do?”

“I want to mount a supply drive for this Saturday. We'll hold it in the park. We need everything from pencils to toilet paper. Our goal is to have the children back in school by Monday.”

Pia remained calm on the outside, but inside there was a very loud shrieky voice. “It's Wednesday.”

“I know. That's the challenge. Can you pull something together by Saturday?”

The clear answer was no, but Pia swallowed that. She had a phone tree that rivaled anything created by the government and access to an impressive list of volunteers.

“I can get the word out tonight,” she said. “Beg mention in tomorrow's paper, along with Friday's. Do media Friday and get it set up by, say, nine Saturday morning.” Even thinking about it was enough to make her woozy. “I need a list of what you need.”

Nancy had come prepared. She passed a folder to Pia. “If people would rather give money, we won't say no.”

“Who would?”

Pia flipped open the folder and stared at the neatly typed sheets. The list was detailed and, as Nancy had promised, listed every possible need, from chalk
to china. Well, not china, exactly, but dishes for the camp.

“I thought the camp already had a working kitchen,” she said. “Why would they need plates, glasses and utensils?”

“End Zone for Kids housed less than a hundred campers, even with the day campers,” Marsha told her. “We're sending up close to three hundred.”

“That's a lot of napkins,” Charity murmured. “I'll stay after the meeting and you can tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn't the size of the project that worried Pia, but the speed. She would need a full-page ad in the local paper. Colleen, her contact at the
Fool's Gold Daily Republic,
wasn't going to be happy.

“I need to make a call,” she said, then excused herself.

Once she was in the hall, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

“Hi, it's Pia,” she said.

Colleen was a woman of a certain age—only no one knew exactly what age that was. She was a hard-drinking, chain-smoking newspaper woman who didn't believe in chitchat and had never met an adjective she didn't want eliminated.

“What do you want?” Colleen snapped.

Pia sucked in a breath. Talking fast was essential. “A full page tomorrow and Friday. Saturday we're going to be collecting donations for the school that burned down. For a new school and supplies.”

Damn. Talking to Colleen always made her nervous.
The worst part was the other woman didn't have to say anything to get Pia feeling frantic.

“The kids will be going up to the camp while the burned-out school is repaired. They'll need everything from books to pencils to toilet paper. I have a list. Money donations are fine, too.”

“Of course they are. Anything else? How about a kidney? I was told I have two. You want I should cut that out and send it along?”

Pia leaned against the wall. “It's for the children.”

“I'm not competing in any beauty pageant. I don't have to give a fig about kids or world peace.”

There was a long pause. Pia heard the other woman exhaling smoke.

“Get me the material in fifteen minutes and I'll do it. Otherwise, forget it.”

“Thanks, Colleen,” Pia said, already running for the fax machine on the second floor.

She made the deadline with eighteen seconds to spare. When the copy and the list of needed supplies had gone through the fax machine, Pia returned to the meeting only to find out they hadn't actually been as busy as she had.

“Charity, is there any chance you've
seen
Raoul's butt?” Gladys asked hopefully. “Could you get a comparison?”

Pia sank into her seat. “Yes, Charity. You should ask Raoul for a private showing, and I'd like to be in the room when you do.”

Charity rolled her eyes. “I haven't seen his butt, I'm not going to ask to see it. As far as I'm concerned, Josh is perfection, and that can't be improved upon.”

“You're his wife,” Gladys grumbled. “You have to say that.”

Marsha rose from her chair. “Debating which of our two celebrity athletes is more attractive can be a thrilling way to pass an hour. However, we still have things to discuss. Pia, you got the ad?”

“Yes. Colleen will run the time, the list and all the contact information tomorrow and Friday. I'll get the phone tree up and running tonight. We'll set up tables for those who want to host a bake sale or whatever. The usual stuff.”

Marsha passed her a paper. “Here are the local businesses that will be providing drinks and snacks. I told them not to deliver before eight on Saturday.” She glanced around the table. “I would be grateful if those of you with a close and personal relationship with God spoke to Him about the weather. Warm and sunny on Saturday would be best.”

Gladys looked shocked at the request, but everyone else laughed.

Marsha sat back in her seat. “There's one other item I need to discuss. I was hoping it wouldn't be an issue, but no such luck. I realize that when compared with the unexpected fire that destroyed the school, this will seem small and unimportant. However, it is going to impact our town and we have to be prepared.”

Pia glanced at Charity, who shrugged. Apparently Marsha hadn't talked to her granddaughter about the mystery element.

“A few of you may remember Tiffany Hatcher,” Marsha said. “She was a graduate student who came to Fool's Gold in the spring. Her field of study is human
geography. As in why people settle where they do, why they move, etc.”

Pia vaguely remembered a petite, pretty young woman who had been very interested in Josh. As he'd only had eyes for Charity, nothing had come of her flirting.

“I tried to delicately discourage her from writing about the town, but I wasn't successful,” Marsha continued. “Her thesis is being published. She called to let me know there is a chapter on Fool's Gold. Specifically about the ongoing shortage of men. She has sent out excerpts of the chapter to many media outlets and there has been, as she so happily put it, interest.”

“No,” Chief Barns said forcefully. “I'm not going to have a bunch of media types mucking up my town and parking where they're not supposed to. Isn't there enough real news in the world without them paying attention to us?”

Pia's thoughts exactly. But she had a bad feeling that a town with a man shortage would be exactly the right kind of story to capture a lot of attention.

“I don't suppose telling the media we don't want them here will help,” Charity said.

“If only,” Marsha told her. “I'm afraid in the next few weeks we're going to have to deal with the problem. And not just the media, either.”

Pia stared at her boss. The mayor nodded slowly.

“When word gets out, we'll be flooded with men looking for a town full of lonely women.”

“That could be fun,” Gladys said, looking intrigued. “A few of you need a good marrying.”

Pia suspected Gladys meant her, so she was careful to stay quiet. With less than three days to pull together a massive event, getting married or even meeting men
was the last thing on her mind. And even if she wasn't so busy, considering the whole embryo issue, getting involved wasn't just unlikely, it was impossible.

 

S
ATURDAY MORNING DAWNED
perfectly clear. The temperatures were supposed to be in the low seventies. Apparently God had come through, Pia thought as she arrived at the park a little after seven to find work under way.

The city maintenance crew was already setting up the long tables and collection bins. Several signs had been donated by a printer, and ones that had been made by hand were sorted and in place. Pia had drawn up a floor plan of sorts, showing what would be collected where.

Her miracle phone tree had worked perfectly, and she'd heard back from over fifty people with promises of books, supplies and even cash. Liz Sutton, a Fool's Gold native and a successful author who had recently returned to settle in town, had quietly promised five thousand children's books to start the library. When Pia had offered to shout about the donation from every rooftop in town, Liz had insisted on being anonymous.

She wasn't the only one giving big. Local hero Josh Golden had already handed in a check for thirty thousand dollars, again with instructions to keep quiet about him giving it. A cashier's check for ten grand had arrived in her office the previous morning. Just a plain envelope slipped under the door. No return address and drawn on a busy Sacramento bank, so there was no way of tracing it.

Pia had turned the money over to Nancy, along with a list of what else she knew was being donated.

Now as she sipped her coffee, she went over the
events that would happen during the day. The city yard sale would begin at eight. Donations had been delivered the day before, and her volunteers were already sorting through the bounty. To keep things simple, the items would be grouped according to price, at one-, three-, five-and ten-dollar tables.

The bake sale would start at noon, giving the last-minute bakers time to get their goodies finished. The auction was at three, and Pia was still waiting on the list of what would be offered.