Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(39)

“What is it?” Patty’s voice gentled. “You look upset.”

“If I talked to you about something, asked your advice, will you promise to keep it between us?”

She leaned forward. “Is there—did something happen with Charlotte? At The Pony? Is she okay?”

“Promise me.”

“Hank—”

Lowering my voice even though we were alone, I inclined my head forward. “Charlotte’s fine, but I need to talk a particular situation over with you as a friend, something that’s troubling me. I need to know you’re not going to repeat what I say to anyone, especially Charlotte.”

She blew out a long breath, her cheeks puffing out. “Fine. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“Especially Charlotte.”

“Especially Charlotte—as long as keeping what you’re about to say a secret from Charlotte doesn’t ultimately hurt her, or her kids.”

I thought about that, then nodded. “It won’t.”

“Then shoot.”

Picking up my beer for a swallow, I decided not to second-guess my instincts. I needed perspective and I trusted Patty. I’d always admired her straightforward, honest approach to every person and situation, and I still did. I trusted her to be logical and well-reasoned even when her feelings were involved. The woman had an exceptional talent of separating her emotions and biases from a problem, never pulling her punches to spare feelings.

Which was ultimately why I confessed, “I think I’m attracted to her.”

Her chin dipped, her eyes blowing wide. “Say what?”

“It’s distracting. And unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional?” Her voice cracked with the question.

“Yes. Thinking about her as much as I do, in the ways I’ve been thinking, is unprofessional.”

“I see . . .” Her forehead wrinkled with a confused-looking frown, making me think she didn’t actually see.

“See here, I don’t want to lose her as a bookkeeper. I’m her boss. I shouldn’t be thinking about or noticing her this way. I’ve never had this problem before and I don’t know what to do about it. And if I could stop, I would’ve done so already.”

“She’s only been working with you for a week.”

“Nine days, if you include today.” I rubbed my forehead. “I know this is a me problem. I know this isn’t her fault, she’s done nothing to encourage me, nothing at all. But . . .” I grunted, not knowing how to explain how frustrated my own brain was making me. I peeked at Patty.

She still gaped at me. “I—I honestly don’t know what to say. Why would you hire her if you were attracted to her?”

“Wait. Let me back up a bit.” I squirmed in my seat. “Charlotte asked for a job at The Pony.”

“I know.”

“No.” I chewed on my lip as I argued with myself whether or not to tell Patty the whole story. I decided it wasn’t gossip, it was context. “She . . . she wanted to be a dancer.”

Her jaw swung open. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. She showed up in a nothing tank top and short shorts, her lace bra showing, which I wouldn’t remark upon except you know how she usually dresses. It was a surprise. I thought I was dreaming.”

Patty made a choking sound, her eyes bulging wider.

“I told her no, obviously,” I rushed to add. “But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been tempted to watch her audition.” I didn’t volunteer that I’d been attracted to the way Charlotte looked for a while, but I’d disliked her personality—or my perception of her personality—more than I’d liked her exterior.

“Thank goodness you didn’t.” Patty leaned back in the booth, still looking stunned. “Why did she want to dance at The Pony? Didn’t she worry about how people would react?”

“You should ask her that.”

Patty frowned, her gaze falling to the table. “She’s always been kinda clueless about that sort of thing. People gossip and it’s like she doesn’t even hear it or think it matters. It matters. Her kids would’ve suffered in the court of public opinion. She can be so brainless.”

I didn’t like Patty calling Charlotte brainless, even though I agreed with her in this specific instance, so I redirected the conversation. “Anyway, she then tried The G-Spot and they offered her a place on their schedule. That’s when Beau inserted himself.” I proceeded to tell Patty the rest of the story, about Beau dragging me over to rescue Charlotte and offer her a job—any job, as long as it wasn’t as a dancer—but once I realized she could replace my bookkeeper, I offered her that position instead.

“Last week, she started. And she’s doing a real bang-up job. She has us moving over to a new financial system and she already showed me some reports, fixing some terrible messes Fred left. She’s also real good with the human resources stuff. I think she’ll be able to help some of the dancers with their résumés, the ones who are ready to move elsewhere, into different careers. I’m impressed.”

“And that’s why you’re attracted to her,” Patty filled in, crossing her arms and, if I was reading her right, looking mildly irritated. “You think she’s impressive.”