Page 54 of First Love, Second Draft

Grace:I ended things with the portly farmer.

Mona:I don’t know what that means. Have you been secretly dating Farmer Mac?

Grace:Whoops. Meant to send that to Rachel.

Mona:How’d Rachel know about you and Farmer Mac?

Grace:She doesn’t. I was talking about my story... and maybe kinda sorta talking about Luke.

Mona:He’s a farmer? I thought he owned a construction company.

Grace:He does. Just ignore everything I’m saying.

Mona:I can’t now. You ended things with Luke? I thought you said you two weren’t in a relationship.

Grace:We weren’t, technically speaking.

Mona:So what did you technically end?

Grace:The friendly chats we occasionally had that hinted at the possibility of a potential future relationship if we ever decided to make a commitment.

Mona:You heartbreaker. Hope he took it well.

Grace:Annoyingly well. Probably because all he wanted to talk about was how he met Noah the other day and what a likable guy he was.

Mona:Portly farmers are the worst.

Grace:Complete backstabbers.

Mona:So what are you going to do now?

Grace:Focus on my story. I still haven’t worked out a happily-ever-after for my heroine. If I don’t come up with something good in the next couple hours, she may just have to ride off into the sunset alone.

Mona:We can’t have that.

Grace:Really? I’d think you’d be all for that.

Mona:Maybe if this was my story. But I happen to believe the heroine in your story deserves a much happier ending.

29

Later that afternoon Noah adjusted the paper bag full of Jonathan apples and three dozen cider donuts—who was he kidding when he said half a dozen—in one arm while digging out his phone. Scotty. Finally.

“I’ll do it. Make it happen,” Noah said as soon as he answered Scotty’s FaceTime call and saw his agent sitting in his office, the city skyline behind him past his office windows.

“Really? Great!” Scotty lifted his hands like a football referee right after a touchdown. “Love that. Yes. I’ll make it happen. Right now. Emailing the general manager of the Riverton Rowdies as we speak.”

“Who are the Riverton Rowdies?”

“Your new baseball club.”

“Why are they my new baseball club?”

Scotty paused in pounding away at his computer keyboard. “You just said to make it happen.”

“Make what happen?”

“Get you hired on as the new baseball manager for the Riverton Rowdies. They’re that new farm league team in Oklahoma. The one I emailed you about a few days ago.”

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