Page 267 of Cowboys & Navy SEALs

She smiled. “I suppose it does help … a little. It feels good to help others. Makes me think less of myself and my own regrets.”

Gracie knew this was a dig towards her, but this time, she didn’t mind. She felt a surprising kinship with Gertrude and had to fight the urge to fling her arms around her and give her a tight hug. “Thanks for telling me.”

Gertrude nodded. And then, as was so characteristic of her, she instantly switched gears. “About Brooke.”

“Please tell me that you’re going to give me another assignment. Even you must realize how impossible this is. With Sheldon on the scene, I don’t stand a chance of finding someone for her.”

“Oh, no! We never give up.” The matter-of-fact tone of her voice left no room for argument.

“Really?” She wanted to scream! Or get down on her hands and knees and pound the ground! Was giving up really so bad?

“Brooke needs you.”

She let out a cynical laugh. “I seriously doubt that.”

“You’ll see,” Gertrude said, giving her a cryptic smile. She pressed down the loose strands of hair that had gotten caught by the wind. “Anyway, I’m going to help you. Stewart, Brooke’s dad, just lost his assistant, who took another job. He’s interviewing for her replacement.” She made a point of looking Gracie up and down. “With a few tweaks, I think you’ll be perfect for the job.” She peered over her glasses. “How’s your typing?”

Chapter 4

“No! Absolutely not!” Gracie stared disdainfully at her reflection in the mirror. “I look like a miniyou,” she groaned.

Gertrude straightened to her full height. “You look professional.” She stepped up behind Gracie and started adjusting her suit.

Gracie cocked her head. “Shh, listen. You hear that?”

“What?”

“The 1980s are calling, and they want their shoulder pads back.”

Gertrude’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle a snicker.

“See, even you know it’s true.” Gertrude had done the wave thing and clothed her in a brown dress suit, which came a good two inches below her knees. She was wearing coco-colored pantyhose and clodhopper shoes that looked like they came out of a thrift store. To make matters worse, she’d done Gracie’s hair in a severe bun that was pulling her head so tight she could hardly blink.

“You can’t be serious. This is hideous. I thought you said Stewart owned a savvy advertising agency.”

“He does.”

“Well, this getup is not going to work. I look old and dowdy in this dress—bargain basement special.”

Gertrude crossed her arms over her chest. “You cannot go dressed in your usual teenybopper leggings and long sweater.”

She threw up her hands. “Well, I can’t go like this either!” She eyed Gertrude. “You know, you’re starting to remind me a little too much of my mother … and that’s not a good thing.”

“Fine, we’ll compromise.” She waved her hand, and suddenly Gracie was wearing a black skirt, white button-up shirt, and black pumps. “How’s that?”

“Better. Now, shorten the skirt to right above my knees.”

Gertrude looked appalled. “No, inappropriate.”

“I’m training to be an angel, not a nun.” She motioned. “Shorter please.”

She blew out a breath and waved her hand.

“Thank you. Much better.” She looked down. “Now change these nude pantyhose to something with a pattern … maybe crisscrossed … black.”

Another wave, and it was done.

“The shoes. I need something stylish.”

---