CHARITY HATED FEELING stupid, especially when she had no one to blame but herself. She’d spent the weekend buried in work because it was the only way to stop thinking about Josh. Every time she wasn’t distracted, she faced a brainful of questions, all designed to make her spiral into girl craziness.
She was fascinated by him in a way that was unexpected, unfamiliar and a teeny bit obsessive. That was fine. It happened. Eventually she would get over it. During their tour of the city the previous Friday, she’d found herself actually enjoying spending time with him. She’d found him funny and charming, which was good. Having a person inside of her crush was helpful.
But something had happened on their drive. He’d changed and she was frustrated by the feeling that she’d done something wrong. She hadn’t. She knew that in her head. But try telling her active hormones that. They’d spent the entire weekend sighing dramatically, longing for just a glimpse of the man in question. Worse, Friday night he’d strolled back into the hotel looking all hot, sweaty and sexy. Which meant he’d been with someone else. Even going online and seeing dozens of pictures of him with other women hadn’t helped at all.
She could understand feeling boy crazy if she was in high school, but she was twenty-eight years old. An age when one could reasonably expect some slight maturity. After all, she had plenty of romantic disasters in her past from nice, normal men. Men she’d thought she could trust. If she’d been so desperately wrong with them, falling for Josh would be nothing short of idiotic.
Shortly before ten o’clock on Monday morning, Charity filled her coffee cup and made her way to the large conference room on the third floor for her first city council meeting.
There were already about a dozen people sitting around the large table, all of them women except for Robert. She greeted the mayor, smiled at Robert, then took a seat.
Marsha winked at her. “We’re a little less formal than most council sessions you will have attended, Charity. Don’t judge us too harshly.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Good. Now who don’t you know?” Marsha went around the table, introducing everyone.
Charity paid attention, doing her best to remember everyone’s name. Pia rushed in a minute before ten.
“I know, I know,” she said with a groan. “I’m late. So find someone else to plan the parties around here.” She sank into the chair next to Charity. “Hi. How was your weekend?” she whispered.
“Good. Quiet. Yours?”
Pia started passing out slim folders with a picture of the American flag on the front. “I worked on the plans for Fourth of July. I was thinking we could mix it up this year. Have the parade and party on the eighth.”
Alice, the police chief, rolled her eyes, but the woman next to her, someone Charity thought might be named Gladys, gasped.
“Pia, you can’t. It’s a national holiday with a tradition going back more than two hundred years.”
“She’s kidding, Gladys,” Marsha said, then sighed. “Pia, don’t try to be funny.”
“I don’t try. It just happens spontaneously. Like a sneeze.”
“Get a tissue and hold it in,” Marsha told her firmly.
“Yes, ma’am.” Pia leaned toward Charity. “She’s so bossy these days. Even Robert’s afraid.”
Charity’s gaze moved to Robert who looked more amused than frightened. He glanced at her and smiled. She smiled back, hoping for a hint of a reaction. A flicker. A whisper. A slight pressure that could be interpreted as a tingle.
There was nothing.
“We have quite a bit of business to get through this morning,” Marsha said. “And a visitor.”
“Visitors,” another woman said. “That always makes me think of that old science fiction miniseries from years ago. The Visitors. Weren’t they snakes or lizards underneath their human skin?”
“As far as I can tell, our visitor is human,” Marsha said.
The mayor was obviously a woman with infinite patience, Charity thought as the meeting continued to spiral from one subject to another.
“Now about the road repaving by the lake,” Marsha said. “I believe someone prepared a report.”
They worked their way through several items on the agenda. Charity gave a brief rundown on the meeting with the university and the fact that the letter of intent had been signed. Pia talked about the Fourth of July celebration that would indeed be held on the appropriate date, then a five-minute break was called.
Robert rose and left. The door had barely closed behind him when Gladys leaned across the table toward Charity.
“You were out with Josh the other day.”
Charity didn’t know if the words were a statement or an accusation. “We, ah… He took me on a tour of the city. The mayor suggested it.”
Marsha smiled serenely. “Just trying to make you feel welcome.”
“You don’t send Josh to see me,” Gladys complained.
“You’re already comfortable in town.”
“How was it?” another woman asked. She was petite, in her mid-forties and pretty. Renee, maybe? Or Michelle. Something vaguely French, Charity thought, wishing she’d actually written down the names as people said them.