“No. I’ll do it. If I surprise him, maybe he’ll agree to talk.”

Angela set the magazine down, then went back to scanning the newest profiles created on the Web site. Who would have known that a silly little blog chronicling her dating woes would have turned into a thriving business? She ought to be grateful to every guy who ever dumped her for giving her the opportunity of a lifetime.

There was one chapter she wasn’t ready to write, though. One that brought up all sorts of memories. She needed time to prepare for her memories of Max Morgan, the Sexy Devil. Time to work up the courage to call him for an interview. Would he even remember her?

All through high school, she’d had a secret crush on him and he’d never once noticed her. He’d been the most popular guy, the star athlete, the boy every girl dreamed of kissing. She’d followed him to college at Northwestern, attending all his football and baseball games, taking every opportunity to put herself in his path. Looking back on it, her behavior probably could have been considered stalking.

“Do you want me to make reservations?” Ceci asked.

“What? Oh, for Boulder? Yes. And do the hotel, too. Do that thing you do when you get the really good rates. If Charlie Templeton won’t talk, I don’t want to regret wasting money on a nice hotel room.”

She hadn’t been able to snag Alex Stamos, but she’d learned from her mistakes. The best way to catch a smooth operator was to eliminate any means of escape. They called it ambush journalism, but Angela preferred to think of it as just a way to get the job done.

1

CHARLIE TEMPLETON STOOD at the top of the world. Literally. He sucked in a deep breath from the oxygen mask covering his face. The air was thin at 28,740 feet and after climbing for nearly twelve hours, all he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep. But he knew the risks of taking just a moment or two of relaxation. Many climbers had died ascending Mount Everest, but the descent was even trickier.