Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (31 page)

“He'll be back.”

“It won't change anything.” Charity leaned toward her friend. “You've known Josh for years. Has he ever once struck you as the domestic type?”

“He has his moments.”

“The man lives in a hotel. You know that racing is everything to him. No. Not the racing. He doesn't want to compete, he wants to win. He wants to be a god again. There's no room for ordinary where he's going.”

“So you're going to assume the worst about him without asking for what you want, or even hinting that there's something he can do to make you happy.”

“What? No. That's not fair.”

“You didn't tell him what you want?”

“I already told you. There wasn't time.”

“And when he comes back to talk to you about all this? You know he will. What happens then? Is he supposed to read your mind?”

“If he cared about me at all, he'd already know what I want.”

The words sounded lame, even as Charity spoke them. Pia simply raised her eyebrows.

Charity shifted on her seat. “Okay,” she began. “I sort of see your point. I should probably tell Josh what I'm thinking. It's the mature thing to do.”

“I know you don't want to get hurt,” Pia said.

Charity nodded. “I love him. I'm in love with him, which I'm okay with. The thing is, I don't think he's interested in loving me back.”

“You won't know until you talk to him.”

“And when he crushes me like a bug?”

Pia gave her a warm smile. “You don't know he will.”

“Can you honestly see him saying he loves me and wants to be with me for the rest of his life?”

“Yes.”

Now it was Charity's turn to smile, although her
feelings were more sad than hopeful. “You're not a very good liar.”

“I think there's a chance.”

There was always a chance, Charity thought sadly. Just not a very good one.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

J
OSH ALWAYS ENJOYED
Los Angeles. The city was big and sprawling, with an air of self-importance. New York might be the leading edge of the country and the midsection might have the heart, but L.A. was cool and everyone knew it.

He took the elevator down to the baggage-claim level at LAX, then walked toward the petite woman in a suit, holding a sign that said Golden.

“Not that I wouldn't know you anywhere,” she said when he walked up to her. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” he said. “Quick.”

“I prefer mine to last,” she said as she led the way to the town car.

She was pretty enough. Mid twenties, easy smile and a body no conservative suit could conceal. There was a time when he would have considered pursuing her not very subtle invitation. Maybe even in the back of the town car. Today…not so much.

The flight from Sacramento had been less than an hour. The drive into Century City took nearly that
long. Airport traffic was tough, as always, and once they arrived at the high rise, they went underground to find parking.

Josh took the elevator to the thirty-second floor, where a tall, thin man was waiting. The offices were quietly elegant, as was typical for an upscale law firm. The carpeting was plush, the views amazing and the conference room massive.

Josh walked in and greeted the people already waiting for him. There were two lawyers, an advertising executive, three former racing coaches, a representative from a bike manufacturer and an athletic-shoe designer.

After introductions and offers of coffee, they sat down at the table. One of the lawyers, Pete Gray, went first.

“Your proposal was interesting,” Pete began, nodding at the folder in front of him. “Our clients are intrigued. You've lined up excellent sponsors, you have regional and local support. The city obviously wants this to happen.”

“They've offered land and tax breaks,” Josh said. “It doesn't get much better than that.”

Everyone nodded.

Pete continued. “We have preliminary bids for the construction itself. There was an interesting one from Hendrix Construction. The owner, an Ethan Hendrix, asked for the opportunity to undercut the lowest bid by five percent.”

Josh hadn't known about that. “His firm does quality work. They would be my preferred choice.”

“We're putting together a prospectus for our clients,” Pete continued. “We're recommending they invest. On one condition.”

Josh had had an idea about this ever since he'd been invited to L.A. for the meeting. He still didn't know how he felt about it.

“We want you to run the school.”

Josh opened the folder in front of him. As he'd put together much of the package, he knew what was inside. The pictures of kids on racing bikes were familiar, as was the diagram for the facility. There would be workout space, an indoor track, classrooms and lecture halls. His idea had always been to integrate the school into the community. Over time he could see them bringing in experts to talk about everything from nutrition and aging to different sports for every season.

“I've never run anything like this,” he said.

“You have several successful businesses,” one of the women said. He thought she might be the advertising executive. “You understand how to make a profit.”

“I'm not a coach.”

“No. You'll be hiring coaches,” Pete told him. “You have the skill set we're looking for and a name. Being Josh Golden helps get investors interested. My recommendation hinges on you, Josh. Unless you're thinking of getting back into racing professionally. I've heard some rumors.”

“I'm in a race,” he said. “I'm going to see how that goes.”

Two of the coaches looked interested. The third was skeptical.

He knew that professional racing was a grueling sport and that he would be facing a hell of a challenge if he planned on competing professionally. Training would take over his life. He would have to commit with every fiber of his being. There wouldn't be room for anything else. Not even the fear.

But glory and fame weren't what drove him. Instead he wanted to find that part of himself he'd lost. Once he had it, there wouldn't be anything left to prove. If he could get that piece back in a single race, that's all it would take.

“If you were to return to professional racing, do you have any idea as to how long you would be on the circuit?”

“No more than a year or two,” he said, hoping it would be a lot less than that.

Pete looked at the other people around the table. “If he committed to running the school when he retired, we could get by with a temporary administrator.” He turned to Josh. “Would that interest you?”

“It might.”

While he was intrigued by the idea of the school, what interested him most was that being in charge of something like the racing school meant he would have something stable to offer Charity and the baby. Something that would make her proud of him. Something that might make him enough.

He hadn't spoken to her since he'd found out she was pregnant. Probably a mistake, he told himself. They had to talk about what was happening, come up with a game plan. If he could explain that he was going to try to be worthy, maybe she would give him a chance.

A kid, he thought, still not able to take it all in. He was having a kid.

“You'll let us know?” Pete asked.

Josh nodded. “After the race. I'll let you know if I'm going to run the school and when I plan to start.”

“Excellent. We want you on board. You're an integral part of this plan.”

They all shook hands, then Josh went back down to the parking garage where his car and driver waited.

If he didn't agree to run the school, he would lose the funding he needed. It could probably be found elsewhere, but it might take a while. The town needed the school now. Which meant it all came down to him.

Was that the kind of job he wanted? Could he do it and did he want to?

He thought about the high school kids he rode with several times a week. How he'd gone from being terrified of being anywhere close to them on a bike, to helping them train. He enjoyed watching them get better and knowing he was a part of the improvement. He liked the idea that Brandon could go all the way—be an international contender.

The school would be a way for Brandon and other kids like him to get to the next level. Of course he
wanted to be a part of that. But first he had to get back to being the man he'd been. He had to compete and win.

When he landed back in Sacramento, he drove directly to Fool's Gold. But instead of going to his place or Charity's office, he made his way out of town to the large manufacturing facility Ethan owned. He drove around several guys loading the base of a windmill on a big rig and headed for the office.

Ethan's truck was out front. He went inside and found his friend in his office.

“Got a minute?” he asked as he walked in.

Ethan waved at the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Sure. What's up?”

“I just got back from L.A.”

Ethan grinned. “I thought you looked a little frayed around the edges. What's new in La La land?”

“I met with the people who can get funding for the racing school. The school you bid on.”

“Interesting.”

“They want me to run it.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair. “I turned them down last week. In case you were wondering.”

Josh chuckled. “Sure you did.”

“I'm busy with my own empire. As are you. Considering it?”

“Maybe. The other businesses—the sporting goods store, the hotel, the real estate—any good manager could handle it. But the school is different.”

“They want your name.”

It wasn't a question, but Josh nodded anyway. “Having me on board makes it easy to get sponsors and students.”

“So why aren't you jumping at the chance?”

“I don't know if I can do it.”

“You'd have coaches. Staff. Hell, you could just stand around and look pretty and they'd be happy.”

Josh ignored the slam. “I don't know if I can ride.”

Ethan's eyebrows drew together. “You're going to find out in a few short weeks.”

True enough. The race was rapidly approaching. Sometimes Josh knew he had it in him—that he had conquered his demons. Other times he knew he was fooling himself and that he would totally lose it in the middle of a race, on international television so the entire world would know he was a useless coward. If that happened, he would have trouble finding work at a hot dog stand, let alone in the racing community.

“You can do it,” Ethan told him.

“Want to bet?”

“Sure. You've never walked away from anything in your life.”

“I walked away from you,” Josh reminded him. “I was scared. You were a friend and you needed me and I still hid from you for years.”

“That was different.”

“No. It was exactly the same. After Frank died…” He rubbed his temples. “I still see the body flying, him
hitting the ground. It's not like in the movies. Death doesn't come with a soundtrack.”

“Beating yourself up doesn't do a damn thing for Frank,” Ethan told him. “He was a pro. He knew what he was doing.”

“He was a kid. I was supposed to watch out for him.”

Ethan stared at him for a long time. “Is there anything you could have done to change things?”

“I don't know. Maybe I could have shown him the way out of the peloton.”

“You really believe that?”

Josh didn't have an answer and that was the hell of it. “Charity's pregnant,” he said instead.

Ethan looked at him and grinned. “Seriously? She slept with you? Why?”

Despite everything, Josh chuckled. “I'm the best.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” The smile faded a little. “You happy about this?”

“Still stunned. We've been seeing each other for a while, but we hadn't talked about the future or getting serious.”

“A baby has a way of changing that.”

“Tell me about it. She said she wasn't expecting anything from me. That she was telling me as a courtesy, nothing more.”

“That's cold.”

“Maybe, but given my reputation, do you blame her?”

“No.” Ethan leaned toward him. “What do you want? To marry her? Settle down?”

Marriage? Again? There would be no halfway with Charity. If he let himself love her, he would be all in. Angelique had bruised him when she'd left. Charity would have the ability to rip out his heart and leave him for dead. Why would anyone give away that kind of power on purpose?

But they were having a baby together. A child. A piece of each of them. It was pretty damned spectacular.

“I always wanted kids,” he said slowly. “In the future. More abstract than real. This is different. What if I can't do it?” He studied his friend. “I never knew my dad. What if I'm like him? What if I screw up everything? I don't know if I'm in the right place.”

“Every new dad is scared,” Ethan told him. “My dad had six kids and he was terrified every time. But you do it anyway. You live with the fear and vow to do your best. That's what I did.”

Four words. Simple, easy words. Josh wanted to bang his head against the desk.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don't worry about it.”

“I shouldn't have brought this up.”

Ethan shook his head. “You think you're the first person to talk about someone being pregnant in front of me? It was a long time ago.” He stared at Josh. “What I remember most was wanting that baby more
than anything. We'd just found out Rayanne was having a boy. My son. God, that felt good.” He cleared his throat. “Trust me. You want that.”

Josh nodded because he didn't know what to say. He tried to remember how long it had been since Rayanne had died, taking their unborn child with her. Leaving Ethan alone.