Betting on Hope Read Free

her skirt and it swayed gently just above her knees as she glanced around. She was relieved, for a moment at least, to have something other than Tru to focus on. The film crew was set up off to the side of the diner, busy checking equipment while waiting for Amanda to come in and take charge. Only Amanda wasn’t here, and Maggie had absolutely no idea what to do. Hopefully someone else would be able to show her the way.
    Tru moved to stand beside her. “Looks kind of vacant. Are you here for lunch? I think they’re holding off opening ’til after that.” He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the cameras, but said nothing about them interviewing him.
    “Um, no,” Maggie said, startled by his question, only then realizing he had no idea who she was. “I’m here for the interview.”
    “Oh. You’re getting interviewed too? I am, but to be honest, I’d rather be home riding my horse.”
    A laugh bubbled from her. Of course he didn’t know who she was. He was expecting Amanda, and everyone knew what she looked like. “As odd as it is to believe, I’m here to interview you, Mr. Monahan.” She held out her hand and tried to look more professional than she felt. Tried to ignore the way her gaze kept wanting to stick to him like a stamp to an envelope. “Maggie Hope, filling in for Amanda Jones—she’s ill, I’m sorry to say.”
    She lifted her chin, hoping to convey confidence. Of course there was an upside to the entire fiasco in the parking lot. She’d caught her skirt just in the nick of time. Otherwise, she’d have climbed back into her car and hit the road to Houston out of mortification.
    At least at this point she could still look the cowboy in the eye.

    Tru was losing his touch. He found himself staring into the spearmint-green eyes of the gorgeous blonde with the dimples—and a very nice set of legs. Normally he could pick a reporter out of a crowd at fifty feet—there was a certain aggression in their eyes.
    Not vulnerability like he’d thought he’d seen in Maggie Hope’s eyes. He’d never seen this one coming.
    This woman had none of that, and in her own words, two left feet. She’d been a mess out there. A cute mess, but a mess nonetheless.
    It was hard to believe a popular show would send a reporter who looked as unprepared as this woman did to tape an interview that would be viewed by thousands. Was it an act to get him off his guard? He didn’t consider himself a big deal, but he had won the National Quarter Horse Finals again, and when you added in his unfortunate tabloid debacle, he knew he was news right now. As bad as he hated it.
    And the station could send out whomever they wanted to do the interview.
    “Hey, Tru.” Big Shorty, the owner of the Bull Barn, approached from the back of the diner, sauntering over with a grin on his weathered face. An old cowboy himself, there was no mistaking the teasing light in his eyes. “Any later and you’d have missed your own interview.”
    Tru shook his hand. “I got held up for a moment.” He glanced at Maggie. “Besides, there’s no need getting here early for the setup. Wouldn’t want them to think I had nothing better to do.”
    “We all know that ain’t the case. Just like they asked, I got folks run off till eleven o’clock, but then they’re gonna be bustin’ in here to find out about the interview.” He leaned in close. “Of course I got a couple who won’t take no for an answer, and they’re stuffed back there in the kitchen pretending they ain’t here.” He winked.
    “I expected as much.” Tru was pretty sure he knew who would be eavesdropping on the interview. Clara Lyn and Reba from the Cut Up and Roll hair salon were likely doin’ a little snoopin’ for the scoop. They were lovable, but did tend to go overboard when it came to getting things firsthand. “It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t care one way or the other—I’ve had snoopier people trailin’ my steps.” His sponsors had set this