Christmas Miracles: Mega Mail Order Bride 20-Book Box Set: Multi-Author Box Set by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

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The second man was not as easy to track down, but I managed to ask just the right questions to the right people to discover that he had lunch every day at the restaurant below our hotel. Word was that he dined daily at one o’clock in the afternoon.

It was already after twelve, so I had just enough time to freshen up in my room before going downstairs. When I entered the restaurant I spotted Vance Gifford right away. He had his head down, his gaze on his soup, as he dipped a crust of bread into the broth. Even from across the room I could see how piercing blue his eyes were, and I felt butterflies in my stomach flutter.

“Lunch for one?” the restaurant hostess asked when I indicated I was there to be seated.

“Actually, I’m meeting Mr. Gifford. He’s there at the table in the corner,” I smiled confidently.

She furrowed her brow, clearly not believing my lie.

“Thank you, I’ll just make my way over there now,” I said.

She nodded her head as I walked away to meet the handsome Mr. Gifford.

I pushed my hair into place and smoothed my skirt as I approached his table. When I stood beside him, he didn’t look up. I wasn’t sure he even knew I was there.

“Excuse me, Mr. Gifford?” My voice was shaker than I would have liked, but I smiled warmly as he looked up at me, locking those dark blue eyes on mine. They were mesmerizing and I couldn’t look away. He didn’t say anything, just stared, and I felt myself stammering. “My name is Emily Graves. I—” I went to pull the ad out of my bag, when he stopped me.

“If you’re selling something, I’m not interested,” he gruffly interrupted.

“No, oh no, not at all. I just wanted to, um, speak to you.” I fished for the ad and pulled it out of my bag. My hand was shaking and the ad was beyond crumpled. He looked down at the paper.

“Sorry, whoever sent you was mistaken. The position has been filled.”

“Position?” I responded in question. That was one way of defining a wife, I supposed.

“Yes, over at the mill. I hired a guy last week. So you can tell your brother or husband or whoever you’re here representing that the job is no longer available.”

“I think you have been mistaken.”

“No, I think you have. I work hard all day and this is my one hour of peace. Can I just enjoy the remainder of my lunch without a sales pitch?”

“I’m sorry to have bothered you, sir,” I said. I felt my eyes sting with the onset of frustrated and embarrassed tears. I turned and rushed out before he could utter another hateful word.

When I got back to my room I allowed myself to cry for the first time since I put this plan into motion. Two rejections. Maybe I was better off without the second man. He was so rude, I’m sure he would have scared the children.

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