“But how many profiles do we have on the site? Tens of thousands and yet, only a few men make the transformation from smooth operator to devoted husband.

I’ve had just enough bad experiences to make me cynical.”

“Don’t you hope that someday you’ll find a great guy, someone who won’t treat you like a commodity?”

Angela sighed. In her heart of hearts, she still wanted to believe there was someone out there for her. But she was slowly creeping toward thirty and she knew the odds. The older she got, the smaller the bachelor pool became, until all that was left in the water were the bottom feeders and leeches and poisonous snakes. She was a practical girl who had let go of her fairy-tale dreams a long time ago.

“Of course I do,” Angela murmured. “But I’m not going to hold my breath.”

“A more optimistic attitude might help,” Celia said. She crawled out of her chair and pulled Angela to her feet. “Go ahead. Close your eyes, click your heels together and say it three times. I will fall in love with a great man, I will fall in love with a great man, I will fall in love with a great man.”

Angela laughed and pulled her hands out of Ceci’s grip. “You’re a hopeless romantic. How can you do your job and not see that finding a good guy is like looking for diamond in a pile of dipsticks?”

Ceci sighed. “All right. Maybe it’s better you hate men, at least until this book is done.”

“I don’t hate men.”

Reaching across her desk, Ceci snatched up a magazine and tossed it at Angela. “You wanted to interview a drifter?” She pointed to the picture on the cover of Outdoor Adventure magazine. “Charlie Templeton. He has a huge profile on our site. And he is a classic example. He’s doing a couple lectures at the university in Boulder, Colorado. I figure you could fly out there, corner him and get him to talk.”

Angela peered at the photo. “God, he is gorgeous.”

“He is,” Ceci said. “Of course, if you’d rather, I could fly out there and interview him.”