simple phrase told her everything she needed to know. Griffin saw her like every other man she’d met did. She was a great gal pal, but lacked the necessary girlfriend qualities, which was exactly why she needed in vitro fertilization to have a child.
Maggie’s head knew that, but her heart kept hearing his silky voice wrap around her when he’d said she needed a better partner. His sparkling gaze had peered into her soul, as if she were truly special.
Get over it. You’re seeing things like the time you had a high fever and saw purple giraffes.
She couldn’t afford to let her romantic nature run amok. Her brothers always chided her for expecting life to be like a romance novel, where the hero swept into a woman’s life, recognized her for how wonderful she was on the inside, and declared he couldn’t live without her.
So what if Griffin thought of her as a friend? No one had enough of those.
Keep telling yourself that. Maybe eventually you’ll believe it, and his words won’t hurt as much.
Despite that, when she and Griffin stepped inside Halligan’s Saloon, she vowed to enjoy the night. The down-to-earth restaurant hummed with activity. People sat on industrial-style, padded metal chairs, clustered around simple Formica tables. Laughter rang throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. The smell of French fries and burgers wafted through the air, making her mouth water. “This is great.”
“I’d have thought a California city girl would be more comfortable somewhere more upscale.”
“I’ve only lived in Los Angeles a few years. Sometimes things there feel so artificial. I prefer places where I can be myself.”
“No one puts on airs here, because if he did, someone would kick his ass.”
As they walked toward a table, Maggie glanced at the room to her right. “They have pool tables. Will we have time for a game before the band starts playing?”
Griffin held her chair for her. “You might not want to play with me.”
“Is that a challenge? If it is, you’re on.”
A mischievous gleam in his eyes, he said, “Eight ball, for five bucks a game?”
“I hope you’re a good loser.” Maggie smiled. Beating her brothers and their friends at pool had earned her more money than her childhood lemonade stand. At least until the guys wised up and quit playing her for cash.
Before Griffin could respond, a slender waitress with dusty blond hair sprinkled with gray strolled to their table. “Good to see you, Griffin. Who’s this you brought with you?”
“Cathy, meet Maggie Sullivan. She came here to talk business with Rory. I figured she couldn’t leave town without a night at Halligan’s.”
If Maggie didn’t know better, she’d never suspect he’d just told a little white lie. He was good, but she was onto him.
He turned to her. “This is Cathy. She’s a regular institution around here.”
The woman frowned and swatted Griffin’s arm. “You make me sound like I’m two steps away from the grave.”
He flashed the waitress a brilliant smile, the wattage nearly blinding Maggie. Then he placed his large hand over the older woman’s. “Don’t be mad at me, Cathy, honey. Haven’t I always said a man couldn’t find a woman better than you?”
She shook her head. “If only I were ten years younger, Griffin McAlister. I’d give the girls around here a run for their money chasing you.”
“They wouldn’t stand a chance. Course, I don’t think John would like the idea much.”
Maggie smiled. Griffin should wear a sign like they posted on dangerous roads, because a woman could certainly spin out of control when his charm zeroed in on her.
“You’re right. John’s a good man, but he’s not that understanding.” Cathy tossed Maggie a motherly glance and hooked her thumb toward Griffin. “You watch out for this one.”
No kidding. “I have been since the moment we met.”
“Good for you. You keep him honest.”
When Griffin opened his mouth to protest, Cathy hushed him. “I need to take your orders. I can’t stand here talking all night.”
After she departed, an awkward silence stretched, baffling Maggie. She was the type of person who met people and within five minutes knew their life stories. How come Griffin left her tongue-tied?
Sure he was good-looking and charming, but all the bachelors had been. This did not bode well for the next few months.
“How long have you been a director?” Griffin finally asked.
“This is my first season, but I’ve been with the show from the start.”
Cathy returned, a tray of drinks in her hand, placed a glass of beer in front of each of them and moved on.
“What made you choose a career in television?” Griffin asked after taking a long drink.
“I feel like I’m in a job interview. What’s the deal?”
“I’m curious. Television can’t be an easy career to break into. But if you don’t want to tell me, we can talk about the weather.”
“Not that! I’ll talk. I’ve always been interested in the theater. As a kid I wrote and performed plays. When my brothers wanted me to help them with their chores, I made them agree to act in one of my productions.”
“You drove a hard bargain.”
“I had to. How many boys want to star in The Princess and the Shoe Salesman?”
Griffin shuddered. “I gotta side with your brothers. That could kill a guy’s reputation.”
“You laugh, but it was one of my highest-grossing shows.”
“You charged people to attend your childhood plays?”
“You bet. Money was tight.” Thanks to her father cleaning out the bank accounts when he ran off. Familiar anger surged inside her.
Two months after her father had entered college, her mother had discovered she was pregnant. He’d quit school, got a factory job and dutifully married her. However, he never hid his resentment over being “trapped” into marriage.
Let it go.
“Then I went to New York University to study film making, and here I am.” Maggie sipped her beer. The cool liquid slid down her dry throat, soothing as it went. “What about you? Did you ever want to do anything other than work on a ranch?”
Griffin’s smile tightened for a second, then brightened again. Had she hit a sore spot?
“Life on the ranch is dull compared to working in television. What made you choose to work on a dating reality show?”
She’d
