Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)

She was used to being around physically powerful men. She’d worked with soldiers for years. But Gideon was different. The result of their sexual history, she thought. Percentage-wise, a single night was such a small part of a person’s life, yet it could have lasting impact. A trauma of any kind could stay with a person forever. But her time with Gideon had been wonderful, not traumatic. The memories of that night along with their meeting yesterday kept swirling in her head. As a woman who liked her brain as tidy as she liked her life, she was unprepared for being so unsettled.

She paused to wait for the light so she could cross the street. As she stood, she saw a young mother with two small boys. They were maybe two and four, the youngest still a little unsteady as he ran across the grass. He came to a stop, turned and saw his mother and brother, then smiled broadly.

Felicia stared greedily, absorbing the pure joy of the moment, the unselfconsciousness of the happy toddler. This was why she’d come to Fool’s Gold, she reminded herself. To be somewhere normal. To try to be like everyone else. To maybe even fall in love and have a family. To belong.

For someone who had grown up as a whiz kid on a university college campus, normal sounded like heaven. She wanted what other people took for granted.

The light changed, and she crossed quickly, aware of her lateness. Mayor Marsha hadn’t said why she wanted to meet and Felicia hadn’t asked. She’d assumed her skills were needed on a project of some kind. Maybe setting up an inventory system for the city.

She walked through the open door into the coffeehouse. Brew-haha had opened a couple of months before. Hardwood floors gleamed as sunlight spilled through the big windows. There were plenty of tables, a nice selection of pastries and delicious caffeine in all forms.

Patience, the owner and one of Felicia’s friends, smiled. “You’re late,” she said cheerfully. “I’m excited to know you have flaws. There’s hope for the rest of us.”

Felicia groaned as her friend pointed to a table toward the back. Sure enough, Mayor Marsha Tilson and Pia Moreno were already seated there.

“I’ll bring you a latte,” Patience added, already reaching for a large mug.

“Thanks.”

Felicia made her way through the tables toward the other women. Mayor Marsha, California’s longest-serving mayor, was a well-dressed woman in her early seventies. She favored suits and, during business hours, wore her white hair up in a classic bun. She was, Felicia thought wistfully, the perfect combination of competent and motherly.

Pia, a willowy brunette with curly hair and a ready smile, jumped to her feet as Felicia approached. “You made it. Thanks for coming. It’s summer with what feels like a festival every fifteen minutes. I’m happy to be out of my office, even for a business meeting.”

She gave Felicia a quick hug. Felicia responded in kind, despite her surprise. She’d only met Pia a couple of times and didn’t think they were all that close. Still, the physical contact was pleasant and implied a connection.

Patience brought over the latte and a plate of cookies. “We’re sampling today,” she said with a grin. “From the bakery. They’re too fabulous.” She pushed the plate into the center of the table with her left hand. Her diamond ring flashed.

Mayor Marsha touched Patience’s ring finger. “What a beautiful setting,” she said. “Justice did a very nice job choosing the ring.”

Patience sighed and studied her engagement ring. “I know. I keep staring at it when I should be working. But I can’t help myself.”

She returned to the front of the store. Pia watched her go.

“Young love,” she said with a sigh.

“You’re still young and very much in love,” the mayor reminded her.

“I am still in love,” Pia said and laughed. “Most days I don’t feel so young. But I’ll agree with you on the ring. It’s impressive.”

Mayor Marsha turned to Felicia and raised her eyebrows. “Not a big diamond fan?”

“I don’t get the appeal,” she admitted. “They sparkle, but they’re simply pressurized rocks.”

“Expensive rocks,” Pia teased.

“Because we assign them significance. They have little intrinsic value, except for their hardness. In some industrial settings...” She paused, aware she was not only talking too much, she was heading into a subject everyone else would find boring. “Fossils are interesting,” she murmured. “Their formation seems more serendipitous.”

The other two women glanced at each other, then back at her. Their expressions were polite, but Felicia recognized the signs. They were both thinking she was a freak. Sadly, they were right about that.

Moments like this one were the main reasons she worried about having the family she wanted so desperately. What if she couldn’t have children? Not biologically. There was no reason to assume she couldn’t procreate as well as the next woman. But was she emotionally sound enough? Could she learn what she didn’t know? She trusted her brain implicitly but was less sure about her instincts, and maybe her heart.

She’d grown up never fitting in—a reality she would never want to foist on any child she might have.

“Amber is tree sap, isn’t it?” Pia asked. “Wasn’t that the basis of that movie? The dinosaur one?”

“Jurassic Park,” the mayor said.