Once a Rancher Read Online Free PDF Page B

guests,” Grace went on, musing aloud. “We could add that to some of our packages, since not everyone comes here to hike or ski. The spa is a big draw in its own right, and wine-tastings ought to fit the mood.”
    â€œIt won’t hurt to ask them,” Meg announced brightly. She was, as usual, brimming with enthusiasm. “It would be fabulous if we could get a few more gigs like this one, right? And this is such gorgeous country—ideal for a corporate getaway.”
    Meg’s buoyant spirits might have been irritating, if they hadn’t been completely genuine. Grace had liked her from the moment she’d first walked through the elaborate glass doors downstairs.
    Thoughtful, she tapped her pen against her desk blotter. “I wonder,” she murmured, “if Slater Carson would consider using the resort in one of his films. As I understand it, he’s only made historical documentaries so far, stuff about the Old West. Maybe he’d be interested in some kind of joint promotion.”
    Meg sank into a chair, her eyes wide. “That’s a stretch,” she said honestly, “but like I said before, it can’t hurt to ask. I mean, what if it actually worked?” She paused, bit her lower lip. “Would you like me to draft a preliminary proposal?”
    The idea was a stretch—but the good ones usually were. Nothing ventured...
    Of course she’d eventually have to make the pitch in person, face-to-face with Slater. Still, it made sense to plant a seed, get him thinking about the possibilities. After all, Mustang Creek was his hometown; surely, he cared about the local economy.
    â€œDo that,” she decided aloud. “And let him know we’d be willing to offer some leeway on the cost of the event he just booked and any other business he sends our way in the future. Mention the winery connection, too.”
    â€œConsider it done,” Meg said. She was an attractive young woman, with shiny brown hair that fell gracefully around her shoulders, eyes the color of warm honey and a friendly smile. Secretly, Grace envied her assistant’s less dramatic coloring a little, her own being...well, a bit on the flashy side.
    Inwardly, Grace sighed, reminding herself of her mother’s oft-given advice: Be yourself and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
    Then Grace was all business again. “I want the head chef in the kitchen for this event,” she said. “And whether he likes it or not, we’ll offer a simple menu—one seafood dish, one poultry, one beef, one pork and one elegant vegetarian option. No fancy ice sculptures, nothing with flames.” She grinned at Meg, who grinned back. “Stefano gets carried away sometimes, as you’ve probably noticed. I’ve tried to rein him in, but as he’s pointed out numerous times, I’m not a chef.”
    â€œNo,” Meg said, “but you are the boss.”
    â€œIndeed I am.”
    â€œWill there be anything else?”
    Grace waited for a moment, then made the leap. “Invite him to dinner,” she said. “Next Thursday night, if he’s free.”
    Meg looked mildly confused. “Who? Stefano?”
    Grace shook her head. “Slater Carson,” she answered. “I’ll give him the proposal then. I’d call him myself, but I want this to be formal, just business.”
    Meg gazed at her curiously, no doubt wondering if Grace knew the legendary filmmaker and if so, how. And too smart to ask.
    â€œIt’s a long story.” Grace waved a hand in casual dismissal, although, in truth, she didn’t feel casual, not where Slater was concerned.
    Meg nodded and left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.
    Once Grace was alone, she found her thoughts turning in another direction.
    She was uneasy about Ryder; he’d crossed an alarming line, stealing from Slater Carson.
    Okay, so it wasn’t armed robbery or drug