Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (103 page)

BOOK: Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect
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They stepped into a large two-story foyer. The formal living room was to the left, the dining room to the right. There was a study, an eat-in kitchen and a family room, all on this level.

“Let's start at the top,” he said, pointing to the stairs.

“Okay.”

He led the way. At the top floor, he pointed out the three bedrooms. There were several large linen closets off the hall.

“If we give up this closet,” he said, pointing, “we can have a Jack-and-Jill bath. Now with three kids, it could still be a problem, so I talked to Ethan about turning this other one into a half bath. Just a toilet and sink.”

“Uh-huh.”

He showed her the three bedrooms. They were all about the same size, with sloped ceilings and bay windows with window seats.

“Great for reading,” he said.

“Especially on rainy days. You'd need a bunch of cushions, though, and maybe some blankets.”

He watched her cautiously. She was saying all the right things, but something was wrong. He felt it in his gut.

She led the way to the second floor. The master bedroom was in the back. He showed her the small bedroom that could be made part of the master suite, the hall bath that was huge and the excess of storage.

“It's nice,” she said. “Lots of light and space. I really like the craftsman details.”

They went to the main floor. He told her everything he wanted to do in the kitchen. Then he led the way to the study.

“This room is great,” he told her. “I don't usually like paneling, but the combination of wood and windows really works. There are plenty of bookshelves.”

He waited for her to walk in, but instead of looking at the room, she took a step to the side and tucked her hands behind her back.

“Pia?”

She seemed lost in thought. “You're going through a real estate agent, right? Josh doesn't own this house.”

“He recommended someone. His houses are all smaller. With three kids coming, I knew we'd need something bigger.”

She looked at him. “Did the agent say anything about the family who lived here before?”

“No.” His gut clenched. “Did you know them?”

She nodded. “My family owned this house.”

She'd lived here? Talk about being an idiot, he thought. “Why didn't you say something? Why did you let me give you a tour?”

“I wanted to know what it would be like to be back in the house. I wanted to know…” She stared at the study. “My father committed suicide in there. I'm the one who found the body.”

* * *

P
IA WAS PLEASED SHE
could say the words without flinching. It was almost as if she were telling a story about someone else. Perhaps enough time had passed that the past didn't have any power over her, although she had her doubts.

She turned her back on the study and walked into the living room. This space was safer, she thought. Fewer memories.

“I had the whole third floor to myself,” she told Raoul. “I slept in one room and had another set up with couches and a TV. My friends all came here because I had the cool parents who didn't care what we did. We could stay up all night, talk on the phone, even steal liquor from the cabinet in my dad's study. Whatever the hot thing
was, I had it. Everyone envied me. They thought I was lucky.”

He didn't speak, he just stood next to her, listening. She looked out the window because it was easier than seeing the pity in his eyes.

“It took me a while to figure out neither of them ever cared about me. I was just another way to show status. We only cared about how things looked, not how they were. I grew up selfish and mean. Having more clothes than I could ever wear didn't make up for having parents who never loved me. I resented the other kids who were smarter, or had a great family.”

Involuntarily, she looked at him. Thankfully, there was no emotion in his expression.

“I was mean,” she said flatly. “I tormented everyone who wasn't in my circle of friends. I made fun of them, spread rumors about them, told lies. And because of who my parents were, everyone believed me.” She tried to smile and failed. “You would have hated me.”

“I doubt that.”

“You would have. And I would have deserved it.” She was sure of it. “When I was sixteen, my father was charged with embezzling from his company. The news only got worse. He hadn't paid taxes or bills. I don't know where the money went. Maybe we spent it all. By the beginning of my senior year, it became clear that he was going to be charged with some serious crimes. Rather than face the felony charges, he put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.”

Raoul reached out to her, but she stepped back. He couldn't touch her—not now. If he did, she wouldn't be able to get through the story.

“I heard the noise and came running. I burst into his
study.” She paused, willing herself to say the words, but not actually remembering what it had been like. “It's not the same as the movies. It's not that clean. There was blood everywhere.”

She swallowed. “I called 9-1-1 and then I don't remember very much. My mom left for Florida and I went into foster care. Everything was different. I didn't have this house or half my things. And all those kids I'd tortured got their revenge. They made my life a living hell.”

She turned to look out the window again. “I don't blame them. I deserved it.”

“What about your mom? Did you want to go with her?”

She nodded. “She wouldn't let me. She said she needed time. There was no discussion about what I might need. She told me it was important for me to graduate with all my friends, and when I tried to tell her I didn't have friends anymore she wouldn't listen.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I don't know what happened to the house. If it was sold or repossessed or what. I finished school. My grades had never been better, probably because I didn't have any distractions. I was voted off the cheerleading team, my boyfriend dumped me. I applied for a part-time job with the city, which is how I got involved with what I do now. My mother didn't come back for my high school graduation and she made it clear I wouldn't be welcome in Florida. I haven't seen her since.”

She felt him moving toward her and even though she wanted to duck away, she didn't have the energy. She was unable to move, even as his strong arms came around her and held her tight.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his breath whispering across the side of her face. “I'm so sorry.”

“I'm fine.”

He turned her so they were facing each other and stared into her eyes. “You know what? You really are. You went through hell and survived.”

She shrugged out of his embrace. “Don't be nice.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I might believe you.”

He studied her for a long time. She felt naked and vulnerable. Alone. Broken.

Then he pulled her close again and held on so tight it was hard to breathe. She should have wanted to pull away, but it felt good. Too good.

“You can believe in me,” he told her. “I'm going to marry you, Pia. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”

She closed her eyes and let herself lean into him. “You can't promise that.”

“I know, but I'll do my best.” He released her just enough to cup her face in his hands, then he kissed her. “No one is ever going to leave you again.”

His words made her eyes burn.

He cleared his throat. “Given what happened this time, you should probably pick the next house.”

Despite everything she laughed. “You think?”

He kissed her again. “Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded. From the safety of his arms, she had a feeling everything was going to be just fine.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
HE BACHELOR AUCTION
and talent show were being held in the Fool's Gold Convention Center, a grand term for a cement-and-block-wall structure that had been planned as a big-box store. Twenty years ago some local contractor—long since out of business—had subscribed to the philosophy of “if you build it, they will come.” He'd built it and no one had shown up to rent the space. The city had bought the building and used it for various events.

The advantage was plenty of open space that could be broken up into nearly any size room. About ten years ago, the interior had been updated with a huge industrial kitchen and lots of bathrooms. Pia had taken over about half the building for the night. The place wasn't exactly elegant, but it was functional and free, which was important, given her meager budget.

A stage had been assembled at one end, and several city workers were setting up chairs. Off to the side the banner proclaiming Fool's Gold's Bachelor Auction had yet to be hung and she did her best to avoid looking at it. Talk about a hideous event. The talent show was only going to make things worse. No doubt all the media attending would go out of their way to make the town look like a refuge for men-starved women of a certain age.

Because her days weren't already crammed with plenty to do, Raoul had called that morning and informed her his former coach was visiting. Pia knew how much Hawk had meant to him. No doubt he was looking forward to the visit. Pia, on the other hand, was having a case of nerves brought on by meeting the emotional equivalent of the in-laws. Hawk was bringing his wife, Nicole.

She had no idea if Raoul was going to tell them the truth about the engagement, and honestly she couldn't decide which she wanted. Faking being in love in front of the two people who cared about Raoul most seemed like a challenge. But if they knew what was really happening, wouldn't they try to talk him out of it? And as freakish as the idea of marrying for reasons of practicality might be, Pia had found herself depending on the fact that Raoul was going to be there for her.

Dakota crossed the cement floor of the convention center, her arms filled with an overflowing box of auction paddles. “Do you really think we're going to need this many?”

Pia nodded. “Oh, yes. We're having quite the turnout. It's not just ladies from Fool's Gold who will be attending. We're pulling them in from the whole county.”

“Lucky us.”

Montana followed her sister. She had a box full of programs for the talent show. “Did you look at these?” she asked. “There's a woman who's dancing with her dog.”

Pia led them to the table against the wall. “I saw her audition. It's not as scary as it sounds. They both do ballet.”

The sisters stared at her.

Dakota set down her box. “On what planet isn't that scary?”

“At least they're not dancing together.”

“Okay,” Montana said slowly, lowering her box to the table. “Tell me it's not a poodle.”

Pia pressed her lips together. “Sorry. It's a big one, if that helps.”

“It doesn't.”

They all laughed, although Dakota's amusement seemed a little forced. Montana must have noticed that as well, because she turned to her sister.

“Are you okay? You don't seem perky.”

“I'm perky.”

“Want to take a vote?” Montana asked.

Dakota shrugged. “I'm thinking about some stuff in my life. Reevaluating. I feel as if I've been drifting.”

That was news to Pia. “Drifting how?”

Montana sank into a folding chair. “Oh, God. If you getting your PhD and helping children is drifting, what does that make me? An earthworm?”

“It's not about what I do,” Dakota said. “Getting the work done isn't the point. You have so much passion for your life. I feel like I'm going through the motions. I'm not sure what's important to me. I'm not dating, but it doesn't really bother me. I want to wake up excited about my life.” She shrugged. “I have some thinking to do.”

Pia had to agree with Montana. Dakota was one of the most together women she knew. It was kind of scary to think someone she'd always thought of as borderline perfect had issues. If Dakota had trouble figuring things out, what hope did the rest of them have?

Montana crossed to her sister and hugged her. “I want you to be happy.”

“I
am
happy.”

Montana shook her head. “You're not.”

Dakota smiled. “Okay. Then I will be. How's that?”

“Better,” Montana said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Pia felt her throat get a little tight as she watched the sisters hug each other. She'd always wondered what it would be like to grow up with a sibling. While she would never know, Crystal's babies would have that experience.

She lightly touched her stomach. “You're always going to have each other,” she whispered. “Won't that be great?”

Before the moment could spiral into a hugging, tearful vat of emotion, two other women approached. Pia recognized one as a head nurse from the hospital. The other was a lawyer in town. Both were in their fifties, with the lawyer slightly closer to sixty than her friend.

Bea, the lawyer, stopped in front of Pia. “About this auction,” she began without a greeting. “Have you vetted the men? Done background checks? Will they have papers?”

Pia had worked with Bea before and was used to her abrupt style. “They're coming to a dinner-dance, not immigrating into the country. What kind of papers are you looking for?”

“How do we know they're safe?”

Pia sighed. “Buyer beware.”

Bea's friend, Nina, smiled at Pia. “Will there be a
preview? Can we look them over before we bid? Is there a list of what they will or won't do?”

Crap, crap, crap. “We're sponsoring the auction, ladies. We're talking dinner and dancing, not anything else.”

Bea snorted. “She thinks you're looking for sex, Nina.”

Nina, a petite brunette, flushed. “Oh, no. Not that. I was wondering if I could ask the guy to clean out my gutters. There's a lot of leaves up there and I hate getting on a ladder.”

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