“Get me an estimate,” Marsha told her. “Pia, do you have a full report prepared?”

“I just found out this morning. I’ll have it to you tomorrow. Most of the preliminary work is done. We did that golf tournament last year, so I’ll use that for a blueprint. I’m talking to Josh later, to get a feel for the race.”

Gladys raised her eyebrows. “Is that all you’ll be getting a feel for?”

“Not everyone has your thing for Josh,” Pia told the older woman.

“Name one woman who doesn’t.”

Most of the women chuckled. Charity did her best to look as if she was enjoying the joke without drawing attention to herself.

Last night was burned into her brain. She couldn’t believe what had happened, what she’d done. She’d never been that wild or uninhibited in her life and she’d certainly never made love with a guy she barely knew.

And yet…she couldn’t seem to find even a hint of a regret. Not only because the physical experience had been incredible, but because the more time she spent with Josh, the more she actually liked him.

Now, as Pia went into more detail about the race, Charity wondered how he would handle the news. It would probably upset him, she thought, feeling sympathy. His past would be discussed, the press might even want interviews. Plus, having all those racers in town would remind him of everything he’d been forced to walk away from.

If he were anyone else, she would suggest that he head out of town for the weekend and avoid the circus. But Josh wouldn’t. He would stay and be available and not let anyone know how it was eating him up inside.

“There’s more,” Pia said, her eyes bright with excitement. “I saved the best for last.”

“I’m not sure how there can be more,” Marsha told her.

“There is. Josh is going to be riding in the race. He’s making his comeback right here in Fool’s Gold.”

Conversation exploded. Everyone was talking over everyone else. Even Alice looked happy about the news. Charity did her best to join in the moment, but it was difficult for her to get her mind around the information. Josh racing? How could he?

She’d heard the pain in his voice when he talked about the accident and his inability to ride with anyone. Wouldn’t racing mean training and exposure? Wouldn’t the whole town see what he was doing?

Even as she asked herself the questions, she wondered if that was the point. If he’d decided to face the problem head-on. If he was successful, it would be an impressive moment. But if he failed, the world would know. Talk about jumping in the deep end. She didn’t know if she should admire him or tell him to think about therapy.

Marsha called for order and the meeting resumed. When it was finished, Charity made sure she walked out with Robert. They had some unfinished business.

“I had a great time last night,” he said as they headed down the hall. “What are you doing this weekend?”

She winced silently. She waited until they’d stepped into her office to speak.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” she began. “Your home is lovely. Especially the garden. The thing is, while I would love for us to be friends, I don’t see us having a romantic relationship.”

He frowned at her. “I don’t understand. Last night I thought you had a good time.”

“I did.” A polite lie, she told herself.

“Is there someone else?”

“No.”

Not a lie. Yes, she and Josh had done the wild thing, but that did not a relationship make. After all, it wasn’t as if she was in love with him.

“When we first went out, I thought I was ready to get involved,” she said. “But I’m not. I’m busy with working and getting settled. You’re great, Robert. I know you’ll find someone.”

“In this town, finding someone is the easy part,” he said, sounding more confused than annoyed. “I guess I understand. I thought you were special, Charity. That’s why I wanted to get to know you better.”

“I appreciate that.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

He left. She returned to her desk, relieved there hadn’t been anything remotely uncomfortable about their conversation. A cheap lesson, she told herself. Workplace romances were innately difficult. She should avoid them.

Josh didn’t work in City Hall, a little voice in her whispered. Interesting, but not significant, she told herself firmly. Josh was a fantasy. She was looking for someone real. Although the way she’d felt in his arms last night had been about as real as it could get.

“MY LIFE IS INSANE,” Pia said, two days later, as she sat across from Charity at the Fox and Hound. “I’m loving the idea of the bike race, but talk about extra work. I may come after you for help when it gets closer.”

“Absolutely,” Charity told her.

“I’m lining up a team, then figuring out what volunteers can do. Crystal’s really excited about the whole thing, especially Josh coming out of retirement.” Pia grinned. “Like the rest of us, she once had a thing for him. Before she met her husband.”

“It does seem to be a universal condition,” Charity said, hoping she sounded both friendly and neutral.

“Crystal’s great at organizing, but with her being sick, she can’t always be available. Still, I’ll take what I can get.” She scanned the menu. “The Josh angle is the best part. It’ll give us a lot more press than we would have gotten otherwise. I never understood why he retired when he did. He was at the top of his game. That last season, he couldn’t lose. It was amazing to watch.”

Until the race where Frank died, Charity thought, knowing the loss had devastated Josh and stolen a piece of him.

The server came and they placed their orders. When she’d left, Pia leaned toward Charity. “You look great. That jacket is adorable. Am I allowed to say that?”

Charity laughed. “Yes. Pia, it’s fine. I told you before, I appreciate your blunt, albeit drunk, honesty about how I looked. I’m having fun remembering how to do the girly stuff. I’m even getting highlights.”

“They’d look good on you.” Pia sipped her diet soda. “The problem is where to go. The two best places in town are owned by two sisters who have a serious rivalry. Not only for clients, but for gossip. Each of them has to be the first to know anything. If you’re loyal to one, you’re the enemy of the other. I get around the problem by alternating back and forth. They try to pin me down, but I won’t let them.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is, but worth it to keep the peace. You’re still living at the hotel, aren’t you? There used to be a salon there, but it closed. How is it living like the rich and famous?”

“Not so rich and certainly not famous. It’s fine until I can find a place of my own. I get a special rate through the city.” Compliments of Josh, she thought. Marsha had told her about the discount when she’d hired Charity.

“I’ve started looking for a house to buy,” she continued. “There was one place I saw that was terrific. It’s a restored craftsman-style house. I love everything about it except the price. I heard the owner would be willing to bargain, but even then I’m not sure I can swing it.”

Pia frowned. “Which house is that?”

Charity told her the street. “There’s a wide porch and a beautiful backyard. I love the mature trees on the street.”

“Who told you the owner was willing to deal?”

Charity tried not to feel trapped. “Um, Josh mentioned it.”

“Did he?” Pia’s mouth turned into a knowing smile. “He must really like you. He put a lot of money into that property and was expecting top dollar for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He owns the house. He bought it a few years ago and fixed it up. Actually he was still racing then, so he had the work done. He used it as a rental, then decided to sell it. I know a few people are interested and he’s not lowering the price for them.”

Pia’s expression turned speculative. “He’s always put business before the ladies, but that seems to be changing.”

Charity did her best not to blush. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t know Josh owned the house.”

“You do now.”

“But he didn’t tell me.”

He hadn’t even hinted when he’d shown her the house. Although looking back, she should have guessed something was up when he’d had a key.

“Why would he do that?”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “You tell me.”

“We’re not together.”

“Maybe he wants to be.”

“No. Guys like him don’t…” She shook her head. “He’s too…”

“Rich, successful, hot?”

“I’m not his type.”

“How do you know?”

“Then I’ll pose it as a question. Am I his type?”

“Until today, I would have said no. But maybe times are changing.”

CHARITY LEFT HER LUNCH with Pia nearly as hungry as when she’d arrived. She’d only been able to pick at her salad, mostly because she was thinking about Josh and the house and what Pia had said.

It made no sense for him to give her a break on the price when other people would be offering him more. It implied a relationship they didn’t have. The fact that he’d done it before the “incident”—as she was now thinking of it—should have helped, but only made the situation more confusing.

Just as mind-bending was Pia’s implication that Josh might be interested in her. He wasn’t. His ex-wife had been some gorgeous actress. Charity was going to have to go online and find out who, exactly. But the point was, he was not someone orbiting in her universe. Interested? On what planet?

Yes, they’d had sex, but only because they’d both been carried away by the moment. Her more literally, but still. She refused to read too much into a single evening of hot lovemaking. That’s how hearts got broken.

She did her best to push any thoughts of Josh out of her mind, only to have them resurface when she saw his offices up ahead. Maybe she should simply ask the question outright. Why was he giving her a deal on a house when he didn’t have to? Asking him was the adult, mature thing to do. She squared her shoulders and walked into the building.

“THERE’S SOMEONE HERE to see you,” Eddie told Josh. “She doesn’t have an appointment. She being the operative word here. Although I’ll give her credit. She’s not like the usual groupies who come looking for you. She’s out of her teens, for one thing, and dressed like a regular person.”

Josh wasn’t in the mood to dash anyone’s hopes this afternoon. He had a lot to deal with, including figuring out how he was going to start training—a relatively easy problem to solve—while dealing with an irrational inability to ride with other people. A problem with a less clear solution.

“You can handle her,” he told Eddie.

“I can, but I don’t want to. She claims you know her. Charity Jones.”

He was out of his seat before she’d finished speaking. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did. Are you giving me attitude?”

He ignored her outrage and went out to the reception area. Charity stood in the center, looking nervous and determined. She managed a faint smile, which made him want to promise to fix whatever problem she had.

“I didn’t have an appointment,” she told him. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. You don’t need an appointment.”

“It would be nice if someone made one,” Eddie said with a sniff.

Josh pointed to her desk. Eddie sighed heavily before returning to it. He put his hand on the small of Charity’s back, leading her to his office and then closing the door behind them.

“Your assistant has a lot of personality,” Charity said.

“She’s efficient and takes care of me.”

“I like her.”

“Me, too. Not that I want her to know.”

Charity’s smile turned genuine. “She’d use it against you forever.”

“Tell me about it.”

He motioned to the sofa and chairs in the corner. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”

“I’m fine. I just had lunch with Pia.” She sat in a chair.

He took the center of the sofa. “What’s going on?”

She clasped her hands together. “I’m not sure where to start.”

She didn’t sound worried, which was good. As he didn’t have a clue as to what she wanted to talk about, he simply waited. Checking out the view filled the seconds. She wore a short jacket over a lacy shirt and black pants. Very “woman in charge,” a look he enjoyed. It made him think about taming that power, and making the lady in question weak with longing.

“That house we went to,” she began, forcing him to ignore the fantasy of a na**d Charity writhing under him.

“You want to make an offer?”

“Not exactly. You own that house.”

He wasn’t sure how she found out, but he wasn’t surprised, either.

“Does it matter who’s selling it?”

She drew in a breath. “You’ve had other offers. People who can pay more than me.”

“I put a lot into that house. I want it to go to the right person.”

“You’re giving me a break on the price that you’re not giving them.”