Josh leaned back in his chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please. You’re the one who warned me about the margaritas here.” She angled toward him. “Alcohol is not required to have your way with me.”
“I know. It’s one of your best qualities.”
They were having dinner at Margaritaville. The place wasn’t too busy on a Sunday night, so they’d gotten a booth in the back. Somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed.
The soft light added a golden glow to Charity’s brown hair. She wore it loose and a little curly—a sexy look he enjoyed. Her mouth curved into a smile and there was a look of complete satisfaction in her eyes. He liked knowing he’d been the one to do the satisfying.
“How was your afternoon?” she asked. “You rode through town?”
“Uh-huh. I got a lot of support from the locals.”
“They know about the race. They want you to do well.”
At this point he just wanted to get through it without humiliating himself further. Why couldn’t he have something normal wrong with him? A bad back. A disease of some kind. Something that could be fixed with a pill or rest and an ice pack.
“How was Pia?” he asked.
“Good. We had fun.” She shook her head. “She knows we’re, um, that we’ve…” She cleared her throat. “You know.”
“That we’re seeing each other?” He wasn’t sure what was so hard about saying that.
She looked slightly relieved. “That. I wasn’t sure about… So that’s what we’re doing?”
“Isn’t it?”
She shifted on the seat. “I didn’t know. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever gone out with. You’re famous.”
“Oh, please.”
“Your ex-wife is a big star.”
“She’s a b-list star at best.”
“But beautiful and famous. I’m a regular person.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “The whole famous thing is highly overrated, and you are definitely beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked.
“No, but thanks for the compliment.”
“I’m not that guy you see on the poster. Not anymore. Even if I got it all back, I wouldn’t want to be him.”
She didn’t look as if she believed him. “There had to be things about that life you enjoyed.”
“Sure, but been there, done that.” He squeezed her fingers. “I like you, Charity. I want to keep seeing you.”
“I want that, too.”
“Then we have a plan.” He pretended worry. “It includes sex, right?”
She smiled. “If you’re lucky.”
“I’m always lucky. Didn’t they tell you?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“THIS IS BERNICE JACKSON,” Robert said at the next city council meeting.
The tall, pretty redhead grimaced as she stood. “Bernie, please. Bad enough to be an accountant, but an accountant named Bernice? I don’t think so.”
Charity smiled. Gladys leaned toward her.
“Figures,” the older woman muttered. “How many forensic accountants out there in the world are men? I’d say most of them. But do we hire a good-looking guy? Of course not.”
“If you think that then you shouldn’t care that there isn’t another man moving to town,” Charity said, doing her best not to smile. “However temporarily.”
“You’re pretty smart,” Gladys conceded.
“Thank you.”
Bernie pulled out a folder and opened it. “According to my preliminary investigation, cross-referencing the information the state sent, there are multiple checks missing.” She looked up. “The total we’re talking about is close to one and a half million dollars.”
Charity sat up straighter. “That much?” she breathed.
Marsha paled. “How did this happen? How can there be that much missing?”
“I’m going to find that out,” Bernie promised. “I have some paperwork to discuss first. You’ll want to look over my non-disclosure agreement. It says that I won’t talk about this case unless subpoenaed. My goal is to protect my clients. I suggest you have the city attorney look at it before anyone signs it.”
Charity watched Marsha nod, as if she approved of what Bernie was saying. Charity found herself liking the attractive accountant, even as Gladys scowled at her for not being a man.
When the meeting broke up, Charity lingered to check the schedule for the room. She had a few meetings coming up and preferred to use this conference room for her presentations. When she had confirmed the times were open, she turned and was surprised to see Robert waiting for her.
“Bernie seems great,” she said. “Very efficient.”
“She has a good reputation. She’ll find out what’s going on.” He frowned. “The sooner the better for me.”
There was something in his tone. She moved toward him. “You don’t think people are assuming it’s you, do you?”
“I’m the treasurer. I have access to all the money coming in. My office processes the checks. If not me, then one of my staff. I don’t like how it looks. I would never do anything like that, but not everyone will believe that.”