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“It’s the same MO as Eric before that.”

“Really?” Wow. Riley went through three different assistants in the last nine months.

“Not that I support Eric’s abrupt exit,” Joanne jumps in. “But I can somewhat sympathize. He spent years training as a professional dancer, but he got shot down at audition after audition. Unwilling to give up on his dreams, he kept at it until he finally landed a position of a lifetime as a dancer for the current pop sensation, Carrera. I sort of understand why he’d feel so compelled to go on tour with her. Let’s face it, Eric was never born to work in an office.”

“These guys aren’t sticking around long,” I say indignantly. “I’m so glad to hear you were able to find a replacement, Riley.”

“Yeah. It’s a miracle I was able to find my new assistant so quickly.” She shakes her head at the same time as she rolls her eyes. “Had it not been for a reference from someone I’ve worked with before, I’d still be digging myself out of a pile of résumés.”

The two Food Network shows Riley is part of are a really big deal and I can’t imagine how stressful it must be for her to have to juggle these new responsibilities while having to constantly interview and train new assistants. At least she doesn’t have to worry about workers back home since Allison isn’t going anywhere soon. She’s a loyal assistant and she has a very good reason to stay. She and Jake are so in love I can’t imagine either of them living without each other.

“Hunter, it’s a common challenge in our industry. Assistants who are willing to stick it out are rare in Tinseltown since everyone is an aspiring something.”

I can’t imagine this type of turnover at the ranch. We’d never get any work done.

“I guess so, Jamie. It’s day and night with my industry. Our guys are lifers. We even have some workers who were employed by the former owner of our ranch. My partner and I made them an offer to stay and they signed the contract faster than we could blink.”

“Different city, different dreams, I’m afraid,” Jamie says.

“Good point,” I concede.

“Jamie’s right, though. Hopefully my new assistant, who started this morning, will have the desire to keep this job for longer than a few months. I’m a great boss, but these guys are making me look bad by using this position as a revolving door.” She sighs. “In any case, we all know first days are overwhelming,” Riley says, looking at her watch. “Obviously, my assistant is running a tad bit late, so let’s get started. I’ll send a text message to make sure everything’s okay, but I don’t want to delay this any further because we have a long meeting ahead. Not to mention I need to hit the road by six in order to rescue my nanny from my energetic kids.” She laughs.

Jamie, Riley, Joanne, Kristie and I all take a seat around the large glass conference table. Misty walks around the room and hands each one of us a very large folder before sitting down next to Jamie. Joanne clears her throat and starts by summarizing what we’ll discuss during the next three hours. As I scan the long list, my excitement surges again. This is as good as it gets.

I’m totally immersed in the moment when the doors to the meeting room crack open. I don’t pay too much attention at first, but when someone’s bum pushes the door open, I shift my focus from the document in front of me to the woman attempting to get inside the room while balancing a notepad under one arm and what appears to be a silver-colored laptop tucked under the other. Since she’s not using her hands, I can only assume they’re full.

“Oh, there’s my assistant,” Riley interjects. “Honey, you’re carrying way too much,” she shouts at the woman struggling with the door.

She’s never going to make it.I jump to my feet. “If you’ll give me a second. I’m going to help this damsel in distress.”

I run to the door and hold it open to allow Riley’s new assistant to maneuver with more ease. Her back is still facing me and as she turns around to enter the room, she drops her yellow notepad. A few pens soon follow. Poor girl. She’s having a hard day. I leap forward to try to catch the items before they land on the floor, but I’m not quick enough.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so clumsy,” the woman scorns herself. “I’m a bit nervous, I guess.” Why does she sound so familiar? “It’s my first day.” Huh? My mind must be playing tricks on me. “Thank you very much for helping me like this.”

That warmth in her voice.

That slight sexy-as-hell Southern drawl.

The way she punctuates that last sentence with a shy laugh.

I freeze.

Although I’m still on one knee and my eyes are pointing at her feet, I now recognize the voice. No fucking way. When I look up at the woman who just spoke to me, I’m completely dumbfounded by the coincidence.

Miranda?!

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