Page 35 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
She’d come here, to a place she clearly felt out of place, to find him. And he wanted to know why. More than he wanted to spend the rest of his night with a bunch of men who liked to hear themselves talk.
“Mayor. Heinz. Thanks for the drink, but I forgot Miss Campagna and I have something to discuss.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered. “It isn’t very important.” And there was something about the way she said it, as if she were used to being unimportant that didn’t sit right with Josh.
“Actually, it is.” He turned to the mayor. “I’m working with her on a fundraiser for Skye’s the Limit, and there’s a lot to get in place over the next few weeks.”
Heinz scrunched his face as if he’d caught a whiff of his overpowering cologne. “Wait, isn’t that a shelter for wayward girls?”
“Do people say wayward anymore?” she asked, then looked at Heinz. “Nice shoes. Are those mock toe shielded? My minister has the same pair.” Before Heinz could determine if it were a genuine compliment or not—it was most definitely not—she turned to the mayor. “I like to think of Skye’s as a safe haven for young women. It’s one of the best places in the city for homeless girls who deserve a second chance and have aged out of the system. They don’t have anywhere to go or anyone to help them, so Skye provides a home and family. For some of them, it’s their first real home. And we’re fighting to save it.”
There was a fierce protectiveness to her tone that made him wonder what her connection was to the home. His gut told him this fundraiser was more personal for her than she was letting on.
“You’re in good hands. Easton here has become quite the event planner.” Heinz chuckled.
“He’s big on giving back. I think it’s one of the reasons he’ll make a great DA.” This time that fierceness was for his benefit, and it turned him on.
“I agree,” the mayor said. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Campagna.”
“It was nice meeting you.” She turned to Josh. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the permit.”
She was halfway through the restaurant when suddenly Josh didn’t give two shits about Heinz, Spring or the dinner. Grabbing his coat off the hook, he said, “Mayor, I’ll catch up with you next week.”
The mayor stood, looking puzzled. “What about your drink?”
Josh picked it up, drained it, let the burn heat his chest, then set the tumbler down. “Thanks for the drink, Heinz. Mayor, see you first thing Monday.”
If the mayor chose to back a guy like Heinz, he wasn’t the right partner for Josh. Over the next couple months, there would be dozens of stuffy donors at suffocating dinners like this, at the Whiskey Depository or fundraisers. This might be his only chance to walk around with Piper and say . . . what?
That with her candid honesty and sweet smile, she could fix this crazy mess of a life he’d created. That maybe she could even fix him.
Jesus, what was he doing? He’d come to corner the mayor into coming through on his original promise, not leave him with his biggest opponent at a dinner that could dictate the outcome of the election.
Sure, Heinz had thrown him off guard and he wasn’t his usual self, but if he were a smart man, he would give her the full update on her permit, then pack it up and go home. Alone.
Except that’s what he’d be—totally and completely and pathetically alone. Clay and Rhett were back to doing what they loved. Owen was having dinner with Mom, and Gage was playing peewee golf with his family. And Josh? He was exactly where he’d been the day he’d moved home from Silicon Valley—sprinting toward a finish line in a race he didn’t even remember entering.
Somewhere between law school and announcing his candidacy, his focus had shifted, sometimes sacrificing the why for the win, knowing that without why the win doesn’t matter. Which was the only reason he could come up with for why he burst through the front door.
“Boots!” he called out when he spotted her halfway down the block. Her bags flapping around her, she was making good time covering the distance between them. “Piper.”
She stopped, her hand in front of her face and squinted. He gave a stupid little wave, and her eyes went wide. She looked behind her, at her car and back to him. Josh couldn’t really say the moment he knew she wasn’t going to run, but all that pent-up stress from the week vanished into something warmer.
They both began walking, his legs eating up the ground between them a little faster, but he wasn’t the only one chasing in this scenario. Something had changed. It was all over her expression.
Her boots echoed off the pavement, not letting up until she was standing close enough to touch. Close enough to smell—which was freaking incredible. She looked up and let loose a killer smile—and he smiled back.
“What are you doing?” she asked over the sound of the workweek driving by. She set her camera bags on the hood of a nearby car, the motion causing that little strap to slip off and down her bare shoulder.
“Chasing you,” he admitted. “And I think you were chasing me back.”
11
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Piperno longer believed in chasing—friends, men, even family members. In her experience, people ran for a reason—none of them good—so it was safer to avoid confrontation at all costs.
But if she wasn’t chasing Josh, then why the sheer number of nerves pulsing through her body at the speed of light?
