Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)

“All that stuff is great,” he yelled. “So what’s your problem?”


She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You led that poor kid on, you jerk. You let him believe that you cared about him and when they took his foster dad away, he thought he’d be going home with you.”

“You think I don’t know that? It was a mistake. All of it.” Getting involved in the first place. He knew better. He did his best work from a distance.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” She spoke more calmly now. “Don’t you remember what that was like? Packing everything you owned into a trash bag because you didn’t have a suitcase and moving on? Do you remember how scary it was to find yourself in a new place, to not know the rules? Now it’s happening again. And you’ve made that reality worse. You let him believe in you, trust you, and it all turned out to be a lie.”

Raoul wanted to protest that he’d never promised the boy anything. That he’d been there in a crisis, but that was all it was. Nothing more.

Only Peter wouldn’t have seen it that way, he thought grimly. He would have expected Raoul to rescue him again.

She shook her head. “I didn’t blame you for the Pia thing, but I’m starting to see a pattern here. You play at making a difference, at being the good guy, but none of it is real. You’re too afraid to give what really matters. You’re all flash and no substance.”

She turned away, then spun back to him. “Do us all a favor. Stay away from ‘causes.’ You’ve already done enough damage here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

RAOUL’S DAY OF HELL ONLY went downhill from there. Dakota left him alone with his guilt. He wanted to do something, hit something—mostly himself. Nearly as bad, he honestly didn’t know if she’d stalked off because she was mad or if she’d quit.

He paced back and forth in the large empty space he’d rented, trying to find an answer. But it all came back to the same thing. He’d let Peter believe in him, and then he’d let him down.

About an hour later, when he was still trying to come up with a plan, Mayor Marsha Tilson walked into his office. Normally, she was someone he enjoyed talking to. But there was something about the way she moved so purposefully that made him aware he might not like what she was going to say.

“I’ve heard what happened with Peter,” she said, getting right to the point. “I must say, I wish things had turned out differently, Mr. Moreno.”

Looking at her, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, was nearly the toughest thing he’d ever done, but he would be damned if he’d allow anyone to make him flinch.

“I do, too.”

“Do you?” she asked. “When you first arrived we were all impressed by your financial generosity,” she continued, her blue eyes dark with disillusionment. “Your reputation elsewhere was that of a man who cared about others. One who gave back to the community. So when you indicated you wanted to move here, we welcomed you as one of our own.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know all the details about what happened with Pia, but I do know that she is a loving, giving young woman. To see her unhappy pains me. It pains us all.”

His body tensed. He squared his shoulders. “I didn’t hurt Pia. We had a deal. She changed her mind.”

“If she’s not hurt, then why was she crying over you?”

Pia crying? She’d been so sure when she’d left. How could she be wounded?

The mayor drew in a breath. “I’m sure you have some measure of guilt for all this, but fear not. It will pass. Peter will be taken care of, and Pia, too, because that’s what we do here. We protect our own.” She put her hand on his arm. “I want to believe you’re a good man trying to be a better one. But from what I can see, you’re getting in your own way when things get personal.” She stared into his eyes. “For your own sake, and for Pia and Peter, maybe it’s time to risk more than your money.”

With that, she turned and left. Raoul watched her go, feeling the slice of every honest word. He had never been what Hawk had raised him to be. It was all on the surface.

He crossed to the window and stared out at the town.

He’d wanted to settle here, to make a difference. He’d thought he would grow old here. But that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t belong. No one would say it to his face, but it was true. He deserved to be run out with pitchforks and torches.

He swore, not knowing which was worse—that he’d lost Pia, or that he’d broken the heart of a little boy who’d been foolish enough to believe in him.

He continued to stand by the window, waiting for the day to pass. He needed it to be dark so he could slink home without being seen and figure out what he was supposed to do next.