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?