All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(15)

Charlie looked at Patience. “Is Lillie excited about school starting soon or sad that summer is over?”

“Mostly excited. She’s been taking dance classes and loves it.” Patience wrinkled her nose. “I adore her. She’s a great kid and I would throw myself in front of a bus for her.” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “But she’s a terrible dancer. She tries and just can’t seem to find the rhythm. Her teacher is really patient with her, so that helps.”

Charlie could relate to being a bad dancer. But in her case, she’d had to compare herself with her perfect, delicate, talented and famous prima-ballerina mother. Not a place she wanted to go again.

“In another couple of months, the girls will start learning their parts for The Dance of the Winter King,” Patience continued. “Lillie can’t wait.”

“I love The Dance of the Winter King,” Annabelle said. “It’s wonderful.”

Charlie nodded. “I like it, too.” It was a Fool’s Gold tradition and even with her mother-induced ballet trauma, she enjoyed the production.

Patience’s phone chirped. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Oh, no. One of the stylists had to go home sick and Julia needs me to come right in.”

Annabelle lightly touched her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll do lunch another time.”

“Sorry,” Patience said as she rose. “I’ll cancel my order with Jo on the way out.”

Charlie nodded. “What Annabelle said. Rain check.”

“I promise.” Patience walked toward the bar.

Annabelle waited until she was out of earshot and then leaned toward Charlie. “What is going on with you and Clay?”

Charlie had been drinking and nearly choked. “Nothing. What are you talking about?”

“He mentioned you about three times yesterday. You’re helping him get on the volunteer roster or whatever it’s called. You had lunch together.” Her green eyes sparkled with excitement. “Are you dating Clay?”

“No.” Charlie glared at her. “No. Stop it. We’re friends. Barely. I don’t really know him. Yes, I’m helping him because... I’m not sure why. Sometimes I can be nice. Just go with it.”

Annabelle leaned back in her chair. “Interesting.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You like him.”

“I think he’s pleasant.”

Annabelle laughed. “And hot.” Her mouth opened, then closed. “You’re attracted to him.”

Charlie groaned. “No. And keep your voice down.”

Annabelle waited expectantly.

“Fine,” Charlie whispered. “Maybe a little. But it’s all an intellectual exercise. I’m not stupid. A guy like Clay isn’t... I have issues I have to work through. So being attracted to Clay simply means I’m not as dead as I thought. That’s a good thing.”

“It’s a great thing.”

“Don’t make this more than it is.”

“You’d be a cute couple.”

Charlie looked at her friend. “Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t kill you.”

Annabelle grinned. “You love me too much and I’m not afraid of you. Clay’s a sweet guy. You should totally go for him.”

“Yeah. Because that’s going to happen.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“I THOUGHT THERE would be a pole,” Clay said, looking up at the ceiling of the firehouse.

“A challenge in a one-story building, although there is a two-story fire station in town.” Charlie led the way through the engine bay. “Honestly, they’ve done away with poles. Too many injuries.”

“People slipping down the pole too fast?”

“No. People falling through the floor. These days, if a station is two stories, we take the stairs.”

“Hard to be a superhero on stairs.”

She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Tell me about it. I had to turn in my cape last week.” She stepped through a doorway. “Administrative offices are that way.” She pointed to the left. “Our living quarters are this way.”

He followed her toward the living quarters. When he’d called Charlie to tell her he would be coming by to drop off his application, she’d offered to show him around.

She’d already explained the various pieces of equipment, including the difference between the engine and the Quint. Like most towns in America, the majority of the station’s calls were about something other than a fire. Many involved medical emergencies, including car accidents. Here in Fool’s Gold, more than a few were about things like Mrs. Coverson’s cat.

“Self-explanatory,” Charlie said, pointing at a large open area with several sofas and a huge flat-screen TV. Behind the sofas was a big dining-room table and behind that was the kitchen.

“The paid firefighters work twenty-four hours at a time so we take our meals here. As a group, we’re responsible for our own breakfast and lunch.” She walked into the kitchen and pulled open the door of a jumbo-size freezer. Inside, dozens of casserole dishes were neatly stacked and labeled.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Our glorious community at work. Thanks to the Casserole Brigade, there’s a steady supply of dinners provided to all the stations in town. Precooked and ready to just thaw and heat. A few times a month, we’ll get a call and someone will come by and cook us dinner. We also have a barbecue out back where we can grill hamburgers or steaks.”