Chasing Perfect

“How? How do I prove something they’ve already seen but won’t believe?”

“Give them proof they can’t ignore.” Marsha patted her arm. “Ask, Charity. Ask for what you want.”

For someone used to being in complete control, the concept was impossible to imagine, let alone do. “How?”

Marsha gave her an enigmatic, grandmotherly smile. “You’re going to have to trust me,” she said. “And the town.”

Trust someone with her future? Her job? “What if I can’t?”

“Take a leap of faith. Let us surprise you.”

GERALD SATERLEE WAS AN annoying sonofabitch, Josh thought as he pushed himself to ride faster. Sweat poured down his back, his legs ached, but he wasn’t about to let some second-rate French racer beat him during a practice run.

Saterlee had shown up in Fool’s Gold the day before, a week ahead of anyone else arriving for the race. He claimed to want to acclimate, but Josh knew better. The bastard had been sent ahead to check him out and report back. The world of racing wanted to know if Josh Golden still had it.

A smart strategy would be to let Saterlee beat him easily so no one would have any expectations. That had been Josh’s plan. But as soon as they started riding, he’d felt his competitive nature kick in. He couldn’t do it—couldn’t let Saterlee think he was better.

They continued up the hill, most of the high school racers falling back. Brandon kept pace, but he was fading fast. Josh looked up at the few miles of hill left and knew that it would just be him and Saterlee in a few minutes.

Sure enough, a mile short of the peak, Brandon slowed. “Sorry, man,” he yelled.

Josh waved at him and continued to pump his legs.

His body had been honed for this, he told himself. He’d been riding every day for the past two years. He’d worked out in the gym, strengthening every part of him. While his brain had been busy healing, his body had been preparing for a comeback. Now he would find out if he’d managed to pull it all together.

As they closed in on the highest point in the road, Josh felt that magic surge of energy. The sense that there were plenty of reserves, that he could ride forever. He glanced at Saterlee and saw exhaustion in his eyes. Josh knew he wasn’t just winning. This was better—it was certainty.

He slowed suddenly and reached down to rub his calf. As if something hurt. He bent his head to hide any hint of satisfaction. Saterlee looked back, grinned like an idiot and rode on. Josh watched him go.

Word would spread quickly. They would say he wasn’t what he’d once been. That the comeback was about ego rather than ability. They would speak of him sadly, with respect, but on the inside they’d be pleased.

He could live with that, he told himself. Because on the day of the race, he would kick their collective asses. And then he would walk away, having won it all. It was going to be a good day.

THE TV STUDIO WAS exactly as Charity remembered, only this time she was the one being interviewed, not Josh. And there was no one salivating to have sex with her. Probably a good thing, she thought. She was freaked out enough about the possibility of losing the hospital. The idea of having to deal with an aggressive suitor would probably push her over the edge.

Unless the guy in question was Josh, she thought sadly. Him she would like to see. But the last couple of days had been crazy busy, with her trying to pull together a new presentation. Josh had left her a couple of messages. She’d returned his calls only to miss him, as well. She’d seen him around town, training for the upcoming race, but hadn’t been able to do much more than wave.

At some point they were going to have to have an actual conversation. Make decisions. Be grown-ups. But apparently not today.

The local reporter, a pretty woman about Charity’s age, waited until Charity was seated comfortably. The sound girl had already put the mike on her and someone had put a light meter in front of her face.

“How long do you think you’ll need?” the reporter asked. “We don’t like the segments to go past two minutes.”

“Not a problem,” Charity told her. “I plan to beg quickly.”

“Is this about the hospital bid? I thought they loved us.”

“So did I. They have some concerns, which is why I’m here.”

“Damn. My mom wants me to marry a doctor.” The reporter flashed a smile. “Easier to do if there’s a new hospital.”

Charity laughed, then straightened in her chair when the reporter indicated they were ready to begin. A few seconds later, bright lights clicked on.

“I’m sitting here with Charity Jones, Fool’s Gold’s new city planner. One of Charity’s current projects is convincing a California hospital to open their newest campus here in town. How’s that going, Charity?”

Charity stared into the camera. She drew in a breath and told herself to go for confident and capable.

“We’ve had excellent negotiations,” she began, then went through a few of the particulars. “Unfortunately, we seem to have hit a little bump in the road.”

“How’s that?”

“The planning committee has some concerns.” Charity explained about the need for local support and a training program for nurses and technicians. “I’m meeting with the committee in two days. If anyone has any ideas, please e-mail me directly.” She gave her e-mail address. “Or you can call City Hall and leave me a message.” She gave that number, as well. “A hospital of this size would be a great benefit to the community. While our current hospital is excellent, the new hospital offers a trauma center. This town deserves the facility. I’m determined to make it happen, but I’ll need your help. Thank you.”

FRIDAY MORNING CHARITY COULDN’T eat breakfast. She’d been up most of the night, reviewing her presentation. Adding and deleting points until she could barely remember what she was supposed to be talking about.

But as she slipped on her shoes and checked herself one more time in the mirror, she felt a kind of calm. Whatever happened, the town had come through for her.

After her TV appearance, so many e-mails had flooded her inbox, the city’s computer system had shut down for three hours. On Thursday, it had been overloaded and fizzled for half the day. She’d received phone calls, hand-delivered notes and dozens of ideas. Many of them had been excellent and had rounded out her presentation. Now she could only hope a small percentage of those people actually showed up, demonstrating to the committee that Fool’s Gold was the right place to build.

She left the hotel shortly after eight and made her way to City Hall. The meeting was at nine. She’d reserved the large auditorium in the basement, hoping she wasn’t being too optimistic. It seated about two hundred. If they could get fifty or sixty people there, that would help. A hundred would be better.

“It’s a work day,” she told herself as she entered the building. “That will cut down on the crowd.” Still, this was important. If they could just make time…

She took the stairs down to the basement. Last night she’d gone over her presentation twice, had made sure the screen was in place and checked the sound system. She’d also arranged for a backup computer just in case. Sheryl had ordered in large pots of coffee. The Fox and Hound had donated mugs and napkins. Morgan’s daughter ran a bakery that would be providing donuts.

Charity stepped off the stairs and entered a dark, quiet hall. No one was here.

She stood in the shadows, fighting disappointment. Not a single member of the community had come. There wasn’t anyone. Worse, she couldn’t see Sheryl or anyone else from the city. There was only silence.

Her stomach turned over as panic flooded her. What was wrong? Had she missed the meeting? Was it the wrong day? Had she woken up in an alternate universe?

“Charity?”

The warm, familiar voice made her turn. She glanced toward the auditorium and saw Josh waiting for her.

He smiled. “You turned your phone off.”

“What?”

“Everyone’s been trying to leave a message. Come on.” He took her hand and led her to the stairs.

“What are you doing? I have a presentation.”

“Tell me about it. Didn’t it occur to you that on one of the most important days of your life, you should leave your cell phone on?”

She followed him up the stairs. “I don’t understand. Of course it’s on.” She pulled it out of her purse and stared at the blank screen. Apparently the battery had died in the night. “Oh God. What did I miss?”

“So many people said they wanted to come that we had to move the meeting.”

Move? “Where is it now?”

“High school gym.” He glanced at his watch. “We have forty minutes. Don’t worry.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “I can’t be late.”

“You won’t be.”

They raced out of City Hall and toward the SUV parked in front. She’d barely thrown herself inside when Josh started the engine.

“My presentation,” she said, remembering everything she’d left in her office.

“Sheryl took care of it. Everything’s been moved. She tried to call you this morning, but Mary at the front desk knew you’d been up until three, so she wouldn’t put the calls through. I was training, so I didn’t get the calls either.”

He raced through the oddly deserted streets of Fool’s Gold. About a half mile from the high school, they ran into traffic. Josh stuck his head out the window, yelling that he had Charity with him. Instantly cars began moving out of the way.

They continued to the high school. There wasn’t anywhere to park, so Josh simply pulled to the side of the road.

“Go,” he said, pointing toward the gym. “The doors are standing open. Marsha’s already inside. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He grinned. “You’re going to do great.”

Charity wanted to say something, to touch him, kiss him and maybe talk about their future. But there wasn’t time. She was already opening the door, then jumping down and hurrying toward the gym.

Once inside, she stopped to stare. The huge space was overflowing with people. The bleachers were full, as were the rows of chairs on the gym floor. There was a stage at one end, with a table. The hospital committee sat there, looking slightly dazed. Banners proclaiming that Fool’s Gold wanted the hospital covered the walls and the cheerleaders were leading the crowd in several strange but interesting cheers about health care and becoming a nurse.

Marsha saw Charity and waved. Charity made her way to the stage.

“My phone died,” she murmured to her grandmother. “I didn’t know we’d moved.”

“We had to. People started arriving about seven this morning. I’ve never seen a turnout like this.” She smiled at Charity. “They heard your appeal and responded. You won’t believe the offers that have been pouring in.” She motioned to the folders lying on the table. “You did very well.”

“We don’t know if the hospital is going to build here or not yet.”

“Either way, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Charity gave herself a moment to enjoy feeling as if she’d finally found where she belonged, then drew in a breath and walked over to the conference table. “Good morning.”

“Impressive,” Dr. Daniels said, motioning to the crowd. “I like the banners.”

“You’re going to like the information I have even more.” She picked up the microphone on the table and turned it on. “Shall we get started?”

The huge gym went instantly quiet.

Charity had done a lot of presentations in the past. It was part of her job description. But she didn’t remember ever having an audience this big or enthused. Although everyone stayed quiet, she could feel them willing her to do well. Their support gave her confidence.

She moved to the podium and opened the folder lying there.

“Dr. Daniels, I’d like to welcome you and your committee back to Fool’s Gold and thank you for giving me one more chance to convince you this is where you should be building your new hospital. When we last spoke, you mentioned two specific concerns. A trained workforce and community support.” She looked up and grinned. “Let me show you why you have nothing to worry about.”

Over the next hour, she walked the committee through the detailed presentation. She explained how the California University campus at Fool’s Gold had developed a nursing curriculum, including several advanced-degree specialties. That the Wilson Memorial teaching hospital would be sending different intern and resident rotations to the new hospital.

She showed them plans for a new golf course, housing projects and reviewed the excellent test scores at the local schools. Then she showed a projected schedule of fundraisers to help with special projects at the hospital.

“As for the community support,” she said. “I believe the citizens of Fool’s Gold have already spoken for themselves.”

The crowd rose and applauded loudly. There were whistles and shouts.

Dr. Daniels looked stunned. “If you’ll give us a few minutes to talk this over,” he said, his eyes slightly glazed.

Charity nodded and turned off the mike. People in the gym started talking. She saw Josh hurrying toward her, weaving through the rows of chairs. After going down the stairs, she met him in front of the podium. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through a side door, into a quiet hallway.

“You did good,” he told her.

“We all did. Everyone came through. The information I had was great, but having so many people show up to express their support is invaluable.” She felt a growing warmth inside, a sense of being home. If the hospital moved here, she wouldn’t have done it all by herself, and that made the victory even sweeter.