“What about the other schools in town?”
“Marsha said they were thinking about bringing in those portable classrooms.”
“Marsha?”
“Mayor Marsha Tilson. My boss. You know Josh Golden?”
Raoul nodded.
“He’s married to her granddaughter.”
“Got it.”
He seemed less stunned now, which probably made him feel better. With the smoke smudges on his face, he looked pretty attractive, she thought absently. Not that he hadn’t been devastatingly handsome before. He was the kind of man who made a woman do stupid things. Thank goodness she was immune. A lifetime of romantic failures had a way of curing a woman of foolishness.
“We should make another appointment,” she said. “I’ll call your office and set things up with your secretary.”
“There you go, assuming again. I don’t have a secretary.”
“Huh. Who sets up your calendar and makes you feel important?” she said with a wink.
He studied her for a second. “Are you like this with everyone?”
“Charming?” She laughed. “As a rule. Just ask around.”
“Maybe I will.”
He was teasing. She knew he was teasing. Yet she felt something. A flicker. Maybe a quiver, down low in her belly.
No way, she reminded herself as she waved and walked toward her car. Especially not with a man like him. Successful, handsome men had expectations. Blonde ambitions. She knew—she read People magazine.
Life had taught her many important lessons. The greatest of which was not to depend on anyone to be there for her. She was a strong, independent woman. Men were optional and right now she was going to just say no.
RAOUL SPENT THE NEXT hour at the school. The firefighters got the fire under control. The chief had told him they would have a presence for at least the next twenty-four hours, to control any hot spots. Cleanup would start when the remaining structure had cooled and the investigation was complete.
It was the kind of disaster he’d read about in the paper and seen on the news a dozen times over the years. But even the best reporting hadn’t prepared him for the reality of the heat, the destruction and the smell. It would be months, maybe years, before the campus was even close to normal.
The kids had all gone home, as had most of the spectators. Eventually he turned to walk back to his office. His car wasn’t in any danger, but it was blocked in by several fire trucks. He would return later and collect it. In the meantime, the center of town was only about twenty minutes away.
Raoul had grown up in Seattle, gone to college in Oklahoma, and then been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys. He was a big-city kind of guy, enjoying the restaurants, the nightlife, the possibilities. At least he had thought he was. Somewhere along the way, going out all the time had gotten old. He’d wanted to settle down.
“Don’t go there,” he told himself firmly.
Revisiting the past was a waste of time. What was more important was the future. He’d chosen Fool’s Gold and so far he enjoyed small-town life. Walking nearly everywhere was one of the advantages. So was the lack of traffic. His friends had joked that he wasn’t going to have much of a social life, but since his divorce, he hadn’t been that interested, so it was all working out.
He reached his office, a first-floor space on a tree-lined side street. There was a restaurant—the Fox and Hound—around the corner, and a Starbucks nearby. For now, it was enough.
He reached for his keys only to see the lights were already on. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.
The three-thousand-square-foot office was more than he needed, but he had plans to expand. His summer camp was just the beginning. Changing the world would require a staff.
Dakota Hendrix, his lone year-round employee, looked up from her computer. “Were you at the fire? Didn’t you mention you were going to the school?”
“I was there.”
“Did everyone get out okay?”
He nodded and briefed her on what had happened—leaving out the part where he went back to check that all the rooms were empty.
Dakota, a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and expressive eyes, listened carefully. She had a PhD in childhood development and he’d been damn lucky to find her, let alone hire her.
One of the reasons Raoul had moved to Fool’s Gold had been because of the abandoned camp up in the mountains. He’d been able to get it for practically nothing. He’d updated the facility and this past summer End Zone for Kids had opened its doors.
The camp’s mandate was to help inner-city kids be a part of nature—hardly a unique idea, but one that was appreciated by those who lived in the urban center of broken cities. Local kids came as day campers, and the city kids stayed for two weeks at a time.