be complaining that they can't even get a table at the Pine
Mountain Hotel."
"Wouldn't that be something!"
After Maggie hung up, she called Leah and told her all
about Barbara Harris' upcoming visit as well as the dinner
reservations. "I thought Jed might like to see her again too,
and as Michael doesn't drive...
"Great," said Leah. "I'll tell them both this afternoon.
But you said the reservation is for four. Who is the fourth?"
Maggie felt her face grow warm. Actually, she'd wanted
to join them herself. After all, she was the one who'd con-
nected with Barbara in the first place, and she'd sort of
assumed that Barbara's message about dinner reservations
was meant to include her as well. But somehow she just
couldn't say this to Leah. "Well, maybe you'd like to join
them too, Leah?"
"Yeah. It sounds like it would be interesting, Maggie.
Thanks for letting me know. I better go since there's a real,
live customer coming in here right now-that is, unless she's
just lost and looking for directions. That happened yes-
terday. Needless to say, it's been pretty slow..."
Maggie hung up the phone and swiveled her chair around
to look out the window. She tried to ignore the disappoint-
ment growing inside of her. She told herself she would not
stoop so low as to be jealous of Leah. "Just grow up, Mar-
garet LeAnn," she whispered sharply to herself. Just then a
big black pickup pulled up and parked right in front of the
newspaper office. A shiny magnetic sign proclaimed "TS
Development" in bold white letters. As if anyone in town
could mistake those two imposing four-wheel-drive vehicles.
She mentally braced herself as she watched Greg Snider walk
briskly up the walk and into their building; then, just as she
expected to hear Abigail's voice announcing his presence on Looking for You All My Life107
the intercom, her door burst wide open and Greg stormed
into her office waving this week's newspaper right in her
face.
"What the heck do you think you're trying to do here?"
he demanded hotly.
She leaned back in her chair and studied him before
answering. "Basically, I'm trying to run a newspaper, Mr.
Snider. And in the future I'd prefer that you check at the
front desk before blasting into my office like this." She spied
Abigail's sturdy brown shoes from behind the still partially
open door. "It's okay, Abigail," she called out with reassur-
ance. "I'll let you know whether I need you to call security
or not." Then she forced a laugh at her own joke and looked
directly at Greg.
His eyes narrowed, but he glanced over his shoulder as if
to see whether or not she was serious.
"Would you care to sit down, Mr. Snider? Or have you