that comforting?” Maggie took a minute to compose her thoughts and study the Twin Creeks website, discovering the ranch offered horseback riding tours and other tourist activities. She’d lead with what a great opportunity being on the show was, emphasizing how the publicity would bring more visitors to the ranch and increase business. Then she’d tell Griffin how wonderful the bachelorettes were.
With the conversation and her pitch mapped out, she located the ranch’s phone number, picked up her iPhone and dialed. “Cross your fingers.”
Samantha crossed her fingers and held up her hands. Then she crossed her legs. “Extra insurance never hurts.”
A smooth feminine voice answered, throwing Maggie off stride. Calm down. Just because a woman answers the phone doesn’t mean Griffin’s married. She could be Rory’s pretty little wife, or a family member. Barreling forward, Maggie explained she had business to discuss with Griffin, and asked to speak with him. A minute later, she had his cell phone number. Then as an afterthought, she blurted out, “I know this is an odd question, but is Griffin married or engaged?”
Soft laughter floated over the phone lines. “Believe it or not, that’s not an unusual question, and no, he’s not married, or even dating anyone seriously.”
Maggie ended the call. “He’s available.”
“That’s good news,” Samantha said.
She punched in Griffin’s cell number. When he answered, his low sexy voice rippled through her. His voice was as good as his looks.
“Hello, Griffin. I’m Maggie Sullivan, the director on the reality show Finding Mrs. Right. We’re looking for a bachelor this season—”
“I’m not interested.”
“Being on the show would be great publicity—”
“I’ve got horses to see to.” Then he hung up.
Maggie stared at her phone. Their conversation had gone much better in her head.
“He hung up on me.” She sat there, unsure of how to proceed. “He wouldn’t even let me make the pitch.”
“Call him back.”
“What makes you think the second time will go any better than the first?”
“Divine intervention?” Samantha said, as she pointed upward.
“I think the Lord might be a little busy.” But knowing she couldn’t give up, Maggie called again. This time when Griffin answered, she blurted out, “Don’t hang up. Give me a chance to outline my—”
Click.
Maggie clutched her phone so hard her fingers tingled. “Maybe we don’t want Griffin McAlister on the show. He definitely needs to work on his social skills—he hung up on me again.”
“They say the third time’s the charm,” Samantha said encouragingly.
“The best indication for future behavior is past behavior, and I’m sensing a pattern here.”
“Then email him.”
Maggie shook her head. “He’ll just delete the message without reading it. I need to see Griffin in person. It’ll be harder to dismiss me if I’m standing in front of him.” She tapped her neatly manicured nail against her desk. “I need to develop the right approach, because he won’t give me much time. I have to hook him immediately.”
Samantha grinned and pointed to a photo of Griffin surrounded by women. “I know exactly what will work. Start with showing him the bachelorettes’ photos. That’ll get his attention.”
“Are you sure?” Maggie still believed leading with the publicity for the ranch was best, but what she knew about men could be written on a matchbook cover. Samantha, on the other hand, could write a three-book series and have material left over.
“After seeing him with all those women? Absolutely.”
But before Maggie decided, her cell phone belted out “Defying Gravity.” Glancing at the touch screen revealed the number of the fertility clinic she’d contacted. Once the years started zooming by and her eggs grew older, with no marital prospects on the horizon, Maggie had realized she had two choices—never have children or be a single parent.
After tossing out a quick “I’ve got to take this call” to Samantha, she answered her phone. As she jotted down notes regarding the cost of the various procedures she would undergo for in vitro fertilization, she kept her responses vague and to a minimum.
Whichever way she went, adoption or having a child with a sperm donor, achieving her dream wouldn’t be cheap.
“Is everything okay?” Samantha asked when Maggie ended her call.
“It was the dentist reminding me about my appointment.” She paused.
Samantha tilted her head and looked as though she might probe further. “I’m glad there’s nothing wrong. You seem concerned.”
She should tell Samantha something plausible. The woman was the biggest gossip on the show, and if she didn’t know the reasons for someone’s actions, she speculated instead, and the theory spread through the office like a cold in a preschool. “I need a filling replaced. I was a little surprised at how much it’s going to cost.”
Having dampened Samantha’s insatiable curiosity, Maggie continued. “Now back to business. I’ve got to convince Griffin to do the show. We don’t have time to start the search process over.”
“You really think if you see him in person you can change his mind?”
“It’s worth a shot.” Maggie picked up her phone and dialed. “I need to book a flight to Denver.”
HER SPEECH ALL PLANNED and memorized, the manila folder containing the bachelorettes’ photos on the passenger seat of the rental car, Maggie pulled into the Twin Creeks parking lot in Estes Park, Colorado. As far as she was concerned, NASA was right: failure was not an option.
After parking, she grabbed the file of photos and decided to leave her coat in the car since the October day had turned out to be unseasonably warm. The beauty of the area left her breathless. The magnificent snow-capped Rocky Mountains filled her vision, majestic and strong, keeping watch over the town below. Trees, some gold now that fall had arrived, dotted the landscape, reminding her of autumn days on the farm. The quiet, so unlike Los Angeles, enveloped her.
Gravel crunched under her Target flats as she walked toward the large reddish-brown, two-story ranch house, the file clutched in her moist hand. When she reached the split-rail corral fence, a beautiful chestnut horse whinnied and sauntered toward her. Unable to resist the gelding’s wide brown eyes, she stopped to look at him.
The animal bobbed his head in greeting, and shoved his velvety pink muzzle under her hand. “Aren’t you the charmer,” Maggie said as she rubbed his forehead. “We haven’t been introduced and you expect my undivided attention.”
If only she could captivate the right man as easily, then she could pursue motherhood the old-fashioned way.
“That’s
