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week or so. Nothing for you to worry about, or sign, or anything like that. All these matters are settled. It’s just for your information.”
    Julie accepted the envelope and put it in her purse. “Thank you. I’ll take a look.”
    “The best of luck to you,” Hawkins said.
    “And to you, Mr. Hawkins.”
    Luck, I don’t need, she thought as she left the office. A quick sale and a ticket back to my real life in New York – that I’ll take.
    ** “Good Lord, girl. Don’t you own even one pair of jeans?”
    Tammy looked at the towering pile of clothes on Julie’s bed and shook her head.
    “I have jeans!” Julie said indignantly, pulling out two pairs from the bottom of the heap. “Look!”
    Tammy eyed the labels on the back pockets. “Are those – Gucci jeans?”
    “Yeah. So?”
    “So. What’d those set you back?”
    “Umm. About seven hundred dollars.”
    “ Seven hundred dollars for two pairs of jeans?”
    “Uh. No. Seven hundred each.”
    Tammy rolled her eyes. “And you’re just going to go gallivanting off through a horse field in jeans that cost more than my shopping budget for a whole season?”
    Julie shrugged. “Jeans are jeans.” She threw them in to her suitcase.
    “But what else do you have to wear?” Tammy pointed at the pile of clothes. “Your smart little suits aren’t any good, and all those evening dresses are a bit too fancy for hanging out on a ranch. Even your pyjamas and matching bathrobes are silk, Julie. I mean, do you even own a pair of flannel jammies?”
    “Of course not.”
    “T-shirts? Tank tops?”
    “Yes!” Julie pointed to a pile of slithery material.
    “All silk?”
    “No,” Julie said pulling out a slinky tank top with spaghetti straps and delicate brocade work along the top. “Cotton, too.”
    “Yeah, much better.” Tammy sighed. “And your shoes? What will you be wearing when you go tromping through stables full of horse manure and over the Rocky Mountains?”
    They both looked at the shoes lining the closet floor. Designer high heels; knee-high boots with stiletto heels; sparkly details and open toes; buttery leather and delicate stitch-work. No, not very practical at all. Even Julie had to concede that.
    “I guess I can wear my gym shoes?” Julie said doubtfully.
    “In the winter?”
    “I have winter boots.”
    “Yeah. Black leather ones with platform heels. Perfect when you take taxis everywhere. Not so great for walking through snow up to your waist. You’ll break your damn ankles.”
    “So I’ll buy a pair over there. Maybe at the local cowboy store.”
    Tammy took a big swig of wine and grinned. “Speaking of cowboys… we haven’t really talked about the fact that you’ll soon be surrounded by hot men riding horses…”
    “Urgh,” Julie said, folding a print dress and packing it in one of her four Louis Vuitton suitcases in fiery orange. “Don’t even talk to me about men.”
    “But cowboys are just so sexy!” Tammy’s eyes were sparkling. “They’re all tall and muscular and they look amazing in their jeans when they’re walking away.”
    “How do you know?” Julie finished her wine and poured some more. Tammy held her glass out and she refilled it. “What do you know about cowboys, exactly?”
    “Well, they’re all named Storm or Colt or Dallas,” Tammy said enthusiastically. “I absolutely want to hear that you’re having a torrid romance with a guy named Slade who has huge hands and who wears a cowboy hat in bed and calls you ‘ma’am’ when he’s driving his wild stallion deep inside your hot, wet…”
    “Yeah, OK, Tammy. I get the picture.”
    “I’m serious, Jules.” Tammy sat up. “Think of the next six months as a – a holiday. And why not have a holiday fling? You’re going to sell the place, anyway, and come back here soon enough. Just enjoy lots of hot sex with a random guy named Texas and then leave and forget all about him. I mean, why not?”
    “Because cowboys smell of horses,” Julie