Page 2 of 11 Cowboys

“They placed an ad in a national newspaper,” Rianna croaks.

I keep reading.Looking for a woman to love, work with, raise kids, and build a life with. Must be open-minded. Must like the outdoors.

Open-minded?I blink twice.

“What is this?” I mutter. “A cult?”

Leo peeks in. “What?”

“Nothing.” I wave him away.

On the other end of the line, Rianna laughs and then groans. “Not a cult. Just men looking for love.”

Men.

Looking for love?

It must be bullshit.

Men don’t look for love. They look for sex. Easy sex. And an easier way out. Or, if they’re staying, they look for a maid with sex-worker enthusiasm and a side order of nanny skills.

This assignment will prove everything I believe about men, but wish wasn’t true.

This ad is a ruse to attract women, but not for hearts and flowers and romantic evenings. These cowboys are looking for a housekeeper, a cook, a therapist, and a nanny, with some extremelyopen-mindedsex on the side. The mind boggles—and groans with exasperation.

“I’m on it,” I say, clutching the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Go gargle with some tequila.”

She cough-laughs, then hangs up as I start typing.

To: HR. Subject: Time off.

To: Leo. Subject: Get me a rental car and shoes that don’t scream ‘midtown.’

To: Rianna. Subject: You owe me. Big time.

I lean back in my chair, take a long sip of my latte, and stare out at the city skyline. It’s familiar, which is comforting but soulless, too. There’s no happiness out there, no contentment, not for me, at least.

I pick up my phone and dial Allie’s number. It’s been a while since we spoke, and I half expect her to ignore my call. Since her ‘Does Size Matter?’assignment took her in another professional and personal direction, we’ve only kept in touch sporadically, but faced with this cowboy assignment, she’s the first person I want to speak to.

“Hello?”

“Allie, it’s Grace. How are you?”

“Grace?” She sounds surprised, as expected. “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good.” I suddenly feel ridiculous for calling her, and my cheeks burn hot. “I mean, fine. Just heading out on assignment.”

“Didn’t you get promoted to ‘sit in a glass box and look intimidating’ editor-in-chief?”

“I did… well, not the intimidating part… then Rianna caught Mono, and I got drafted. It’s a ranch piece. Bunch of cowboys looking for a wife. Eleven of them. One woman.”

There’s a long pause, and Allie erupts into one of those deep, from-the-gut cackles that make me smile exactly as I expected.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I’m going to Nowheresville to interview eleven hot, dusty men who think one woman can handle all of them. I knew you’d find it amusing.”

“Grace, please. Don’t threaten me with a good time.”