Chapter Two

      “Are you completely insane? You sent Griff here to do what?” Alexis gripped her cell phone close to her ear, glad she was near a chair, because her legs suddenly felt too wobbly to hold her on her feet. She slumped onto the plush burgundy fabric of the recliner and tucked her knees underneath her, coaching herself to slow her rapid, shallow breathing. She was hyperventilating and the room was spinning.

      Where was a paper bag when a woman needed one?

      “Now, Alexis, calm down.” Viv’s saccharine voice on the other end of the line sounded as patronizing as it was amused.

      “Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Alexis was squawking like a parrot and she knew it, but how else was she supposed to react? “You lied to a man who you claim is your friend to send him here, then gave me no warning before waking up to find a strange man in my kitchen while he found a crazy woman in what he was under the impression was a vacant house, and you want me to calm down?”

      “Well, when you put it that way.” Vivian sniffed.

      Alexis took another deep breath and prayed for a semblance of self-control. It was a good thing for Vivian that she was in a different city and not in the same room or Alexis might have throttled her.

      What a way to ruin a Sunday afternoon. Her spirit had been so calm after spending her morning worshiping the Lord at the chapel. Now any lingering sense of peace she’d experienced had been blown to smithereens.

      “You purposefully mislead Griff to get him here, and I want to know why.”

      “I would never do anything to hurt Griff,” Vivian protested resolutely. “He’s Derrick’s best friend, and that makes him my friend, too.”

      “All the more reason for you to be straight with him. This doesn’t make any sense. Tell me what’s really going on.”

      “I don’t know why you’re getting so down on me.” Viv’s voice was close to a whine. “Griff is one of the best-looking men I know.”

      Alexis knew Vivian’s response made perfect sense—to Vivian. Not so much for Alexis, although she privately agreed with her sister’s assessment of Griff. He was the kind of man that would cause a woman to do a double-take if she passed him on the street. But, honestly, Griff’s good looks had absolutely nothing to do with the current situation, except maybe in Vivian’s mind—and trying to unravel that mess would be akin to untangling a rat’s nest.

      “So he’s gorgeous. What does that have to do with anything?”

      “Oh, you did notice, then.”

      “Vivian,” Alexis warned, thoroughly exasperated and very much on the verge of blowing a gasket.

      “I’m just sayin’.”

      “Saying what?” Just once in her life, Alexis wished Vivian would connect the dots and make a logical picture.

      “I’m sure you’ve noticed how refined he is. Rich, too.”

      Refined, yes. Rich? Maybe Griff hadn’t said so in so many words, but he’d definitely suggested that he was pinching pennies—something with which Alexis was all too familiar. He hadn’t corrected her assumptions, at any rate.

      And why did the size of Griff’s bank account matter, anyway?

      It sounded as if Vivian was trying to set her up—as in matchmaking. Only in Vivian’s outlandish fairy-tale mind could a relationship between Alexis and Griff be even remotely possible. Honestly, any romantic relationship seemed out of Alexis’s grasp most of the time. No matter how many dates she went on, or how many times she got her hopes up, every attempt to find real love fizzled out into nothing. She was the girl a guy dated, not the one he put a ring on. And after kissing so many toads, she was taking an extended vacation from searching for a prince.

      Alexis ignored the little twinges in her stomach, writing them off as feeling sorry for having to let her sister’s plans down. It wasn’t the first time Vivian had come up with a harebrained scheme and somehow involved Alexis in it, but this situation went above and beyond, even for her. Poor Vivian would be in for a shock to discover her fantasy future brother-in-law was actually dirt-poor and world-weary.

      “I hate to have to be the one to break it to you, hon, but I don’t think Griff is rolling in dough.” The man’s net worth meant nothing to Alexis, but she knew a thick pocketbook was near the top of Vivian’s most-wanted list and therefore—in Vivian’s mind, at least—a necessity for Alexis.

      Viv burst into giggles. “Did he tell you that?”

      “Yes.” Alexis frowned, thinking back to her conversation with Griff. He had said he was strapped for funds, hadn’t he? Or had she put those words into his mouth? Either way, he hadn’t contradicted her.

      “He’s pulling your leg, then, hon,” Vivian informed her in a know-it-all voice. “The man has money. Lots of it.”

      Even though Vivian couldn’t see her, Alexis rolled her eyes. “And you know this because…?”

      “Did he tell you what he does for a living? He’s a venture capitalist. A successful one, too. Trust me on this, Alexis. He’s loaded.”

      Alexis frowned. So Griff was a successful businessman. That didn’t explain why Vivian had purposefully deceived him into coming to Serendipity, or why she thought Griff would have any interest whatsoever in her. “I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”

      Vivian tittered. “I should think that would be obvious.”

      It was. Patently obvious, unfortunately, though Alexis had secretly hoped she’d somehow mistaken Vivian’s purpose. “If this is some kind of cockeyed matchmaking scheme, you can forget about it right now.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      “So let me get this straight. You sent Griff here so I could meet him?”

      “Well, I didn’t do it for my own good. Let’s review his résumé. Handsome. Rich. Sophisticated. What’s not to like?”

      That was Vivian’s short list, not Alexis’s. She wasn’t even in the market for a relationship anymore. Redemption Ranch, her flailing ministry to troubled teenagers, took every second of her time and energy as it was. Who had time to pursue dating, never mind the time and energy for anything resembling a true relationship? But if she was looking—and that was a very big if—her list would read more like “a gentle, down-home cowboy who likes quiet nights at home and working outside with the horses. Those not in current possession of old scuffed boots and worn-out blue jeans need not apply.”

      In other words, the complete opposite of refined businessman Griffin Haddon with his fancy scarves and designer jeans and spit-shined boots. Of all the brainless, clueless, obnoxious shenanigans her sister had ever pulled, this one took the prize.

      “Vivian, you can’t just jerk people’s lives around this way,” she reprimanded, feeling like the more mature of the twins, even though she was only older than Vivian by mere minutes. “You sent Griff here under false pretenses!”