The front door squeaked open. First Maggie saw the steel-toed alligator skin boots and worked her way up to the Stetson cowboy hat perched on the guy’s tall, rugged frame. There was goatee stubble on his face. His hazel eyes were penetrating. He was undeniably hot.
Maggie was having a hard time breathing. Be cool. Cowboys were so not her type anyway. And what was one doing in Hollywood? Maybe he was an extra on something shooting nearby. If not, shouldn’t he be in Montana roping steer or something?
Sweat pooled in her armpits from running to work. She glanced at her reflection in the dark paneled door. Her hair was thrown up in a messy crow’s nest of a bun. And her uniform did her no favors. Pleated beige polyester pants and a loose green polo shirt would make anyone look dowdy.
The cowboy extended his hand. “Ma’am, I’m here for the ten o’ clock movie studio tour.”