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

“I hope you’re right.”


“I usually am.”

* * *

GIDEON WENT LOOKING for Felicia around sunset. He found her by the park, on the edge of the crowd listening to the bluegrass band.

“What are the odds of them doing a cover of the Beatles’ ‘Hard Day’s Night’?” he asked as he approached.

She surprised him by dropping her tablet on the ground and stepping into his embrace. She wrapped both her arms around his waist and hung on tight.

“Hey,” he said, stroking her long red hair. “You okay?”

“No.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I’m not. Everyone hates me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Everyone but you. It’s awful. I thought I was tough and brave, but I’m not. I’m weak. I’m a failure.”

He touched her chin, nudging her until she looked up at him. Her green eyes were swimming with tears.

“You’re also a little dramatic. Getting your time of the month?”

She managed a smile. “You’re trying to distract me with sexist comments.”

“Is it working?”

“A little.” She drew in a breath. “The festival is a disaster, and it’s all my fault.”

He glanced around. “I don’t know. People seem to be having a good time.”

“They’re not. No one can find anything. The vendors are furious. The band guy acted like I was stupid.”

“That must have been refreshing.”

She dropped her head to his chest. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“It’s a festival, kid. Not world peace. If you screw up, no one dies.”

She raised her head and sniffed. “Perspective. You’re right. I messed up, but I’ll do better next time.”

“There you go.”

More tears shimmered in her eyes, and one trickled down her cheek. He felt like someone had kicked him in the gut.

“Why are you crying?”

“I feel awful. I’m not used to failure.” She wiped away the tear, then leaned against him again. “When I was fourteen, there was this guy. Brent. He was one of the few students who would talk to me. Maybe because he was older. He’d been in the army, in Iraq. He’d lost both his legs and was in a wheelchair. He was like a dad to me.”

She sniffed again, still hanging on to him. “He was in a lot of pain all the time, but he was so brave. I tutored him for a few math classes. He’s the one who talked to me about becoming an emancipated minor. He helped me with the paperwork and went to court with me.”

“He sounds like a nice guy,” Gideon said, doing his best not to be jealous. She’d said dad, not boyfriend.

“Brent’s the reason I joined the military. I wanted to honor him. Whenever I got scared, I thought about what he would do, what would make him proud.” She stepped away and looked around. “If he were still alive, he wouldn’t be very impressed with me today.”

She drew in a breath. “Not by the mistake—everyone makes mistakes. But because I’m crying over it. Talk about stupid.”

He realized several things at once. That from an early age, Felicia had managed to find what she needed emotionally. A mentor here, a father figure there. Justice was like a brother, as was Ford. She might have been abandoned by her parents, but she’d instinctively learned to take care of herself as best she could.

He also understood that she was harder on herself than any soldier he’d ever known.

“Are you right?” he asked.

She turned back to him. “About the festival?” She shrugged. “I know my theories are sound. So if I only consider the logistics, then, yes. But people are harder to quantify. Especially in a setting like this. I didn’t take that into account.”

“Standing up for what you know is right is the definition of bravery, Felicia. You have to believe in yourself.”

She gave him a weak smile. “That’s something Brent would have said. It’s a soldier thing, right?”

“They beat it into us.”

The smile strengthened before fading. “I don’t like that people are angry with me. I’m not used to being questioned. It makes me uncomfortable. Plus, what if I was wrong about the festival? What if I get fired?”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll give you a part-time job at the station. You can work in the file room.”

She gave a strangled laugh. “Do you have a file room?”

“No, but I also don’t think you’re going to be fired, so it’s not a big deal.”

She leaned against him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She bent down and picked up her tablet.

“Come on,” he said, heading toward the food court. “Let’s go get an elephant ear. I hear they’re tough to find, but worth the effort.”

* * *

“HERE.” THE TAROT woman handed Felicia a pale green T-shirt. “To say thank you and I’m sorry.”