Chasing Perfect. Susan Mallery
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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,