“Las Vegas! Next stop Las Vegas, New Mexico!” The conductor announced, striding through the railcar checking tickets.
Sophia’s head snapped up as she awoke from her unsatisfactory nap to realize that the man sitting across from her was observing her. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of him freely taking in her body while she slept. She pursed her lips into a deep scowl worthy of her mother, and narrowed her eyes at him, hoping to shame him into looking away. He averted his gaze, but not fast enough for her liking.
She brushed at the dust from days of travel from her navy suit, but it was coated in sooty film that she wasn’t even sure a good washing could cure. Pulling her handkerchief from her beaded reticule, she wiped at her clammy forehead and cheeks, grimacing at the soot staining the once creamy cloth. She ran her fingers over the sides of her hair that her hat did not protect, directing her curls to frame her face once more.
The car shuddered to a grinding halt and her book of Tennyson’s poetry on the bench seat next to her almost slipped to the floor, but she slapped her hand against it in time. Sophia tucked it safely inside her wicker trunk and made quick work of gathering her things, hefting the small, albeit cumbersome, trunks on each hip, and with a final scowl at the staring man, hobbled down the aisle, her navy skirts trailing behind her. She paused at the steps to catch her breath and looked out onto the little, dusty town of Las Vegas, a tumbleweed bouncing slowly past—a far cry from the Charleston Harbor with its lush gardens, fresh sea breezes, and seagulls cawing. I’m about as far from Charleston as a socialite can get.
She cautiously stepped down onto the brick walkway that served as the platform and at once released her burdens with a suppressed grunt. She lifted her hand to block the brightness of the sunset as she found the platform led directly to a massive red brick building in a Mission Revival style with two wings jutting forward on the north and south sides of the main building with a slate roof over adjoining arches leading to a covered porch. Between the wings there was a lovely courtyard with a massive live oak in the center and behind it, in the building adjoining the north and south sides, there rose a bell tower with a large sign, its painted letters reading, Hotel Castañeda, 1898.
Sophia inhaled the air free of soot and coughed at the scent of manure clinging to it. She pulled her last fresh lace-trimmed handkerchief out from her sleeve and held it against her nose and inhaled the lingering bit of perfume until she had noticed every male eye in the vicinity had turned in her direction. The women bent their heads together and tittered, pointing to her dress. Sophia’s cheeks flamed as she dropped her handkerchief and with a sigh directed to her trunks, hefted them up once more when a gong sounded behind her, making her fumble for the handles as they slipped. Scowling, she lifted her trunks again and turned to find the culprit—a man in a dark suit standing on the train platform with a gong and mallet.
He hit the gong once more. “This way folks! Follow me to the Harvey House where your orders await!”
Her stomach rumbled to life as she thought of the meal awaiting her that she had wired ahead after days of being at the mercy of the luncheon car. She had hoped to taste the famous Harvey House cuisine along the route, but the only Harvey House they encountered during working hours was closed for remodeling after a fire.
Keeping her trunks close in the swarm of passengers, she joined the others in the march into the Harvey House. First, she would eat her fill at long last and then, her new life would begin.
A man with a close beard and piercing blue eyes dressed in a neat suit of black held the door open for her as another young man at once relieved her of her trunks. “Welcome to the Harvey House, Miss.” He motioned to her belongings. “Will you be staying with us, Miss?”
“In a way,” she smiled and dug the travel-worn telegram from her reticule and handed it to him. “I’m Miss Trent’s new Harvey Girl.”
His smile grew. “Well, then! You must have the best seat in the house for the full experience for your meal in the first trackside Harvey House. Take a seat at the table nearest the side wall to have a view of the courtyard and town. And then we will get to work.” He motioned to the bellhop. “We can set this behind the desk in the lobby until we can get you over to the dormitory, Miss—?”
“Bird.” She smiled through the slight fabrication, but she knew if she used her surname, she might as well send a telegram letting her family know where she was hidden. As the man directed the bellhop, she took in the impressive lobby with its stained hardwood floors and carved front desk.
“Lovely name for a lovely new Harvey Girl. Enjoy your meal!” He motioned her into the dining room.
Satisfied that her belongings were safe, Sophia stepped through the threshold and was met with the delicious smells of food and smiles and greetings from all of the nearby Harvey Girls. The room felt homey with a lovely crimson and white tile floor and tall windows that boasted of a view of the New Mexico meadow and foothills in the distance. Her jaw slackened at the majesty of the land. Guests surging past her to take their seats jostled her from the scenery enough to wake her to the humming dining room once more. The tables were set with flawless white linen, silver utensils, and fine china, which added a refreshing touch of elegance after days of dusty travel. The bustling waitresses were all dressed the same in severe, nun-like black uniforms with modest high collars, giant white aprons and white hair bows that softened their attire just a tad to match their smiling, youthful faces.
Before she could find a table on her own, a tall, slender girl with ebony locks approached and curtsied, flashing a wide smile that revealed a gap in her front teeth. “Welcome to the Harvey House, Miss.” Her warm accent permeated her words with friendliness, as if Sophia was the only guest out of the forty people flowing into the establishment. “My name is Nora Ray. How may I serve you today?”
Sophia returned the girl’s smile. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Ray. I’m Miss Trent’s latest recruit, Sophia Bird.”
“A new member of the family!” She embraced Sophia with a quick pat. “I will introduce you to Miss Trent and the rest of the girls after the train is fed.” She grasped Sophia’s arm and guided her to one of the smaller tables facing the foothills and distant mountain range. “After you eat, of course, as I know you are probably starved, but keep watch to see how things are done while you enjoy the hospitality of Fred Harvey.”
At the sight of dishes leaving what she guessed was the kitchen, Sophia’s stomach growled. She pressed her hand against the bone stays in her corset, trying to suppress the anger of her stomach. “Forgive me. I must be hungrier than I had thought.”
“Well, then, I best hurry you to your seat and fetch your order. You did wire ahead with your order, yes?”
Sophia nodded as she sank into the wooden seat, grateful for the leather cushion instead of the hard bench seats of the train. She spread her crisp dinner napkin over her lap and nearly sighed from the luxury of such fine, clean linen after days of feeling filthy. At least the dining experience won’t be quite so different from Charleston.
“Perfect. Would you like coffee, tea, or milk to go with your meal?”
“I never thought I’d give up having a cup of coffee right away, but tea would be lovely. I haven’t had a decent cup in a while.” She smiled up to Nora who nodded with understanding.
Nora flipped the teacup upside down in the saucer. “Did you have soup, or salad? And did you have the roast, or the duckling?” She inquired, her pencil poised above her notepad.
“Soup and the duckling.”
“And for dessert? The fruit tartlet, or the chocolate cake?” Nora asked.
“While the tartlet sounds amazing, I will always choose the chocolate option,” Sophia answered, slowly pulling off her kid gloves. They were too filthy to set on the table, so she tucked them under her napkin to keep them hidden.
Nora sent Sophia a wink and moved to take the next table’s drink order. Another girl came up on Sophia’s right, flipped over the cup and poured a steaming cup of tea without even asking what Sophia had ordered before moving onto the next guest, ignoring the cups that were right side up. Another girl with a pot of coffee filled the upright ones. Ooh, the cup placement is a code for what the drink order is. She watched the well-orchestrated dance of service as the soups and salads began to find their places in front of each guest.
Sophia dipped her spoon into her steaming bowl of creamy tomato soup and lifted it to her lips, closing her eyes in pleasure. Who would have thought such elegance could be found in the untamed West? The moment she finished her last spoonful of soup, her plate of duckling and side of steaming vegetables appeared before her.
Sophia dropped her fork against the plate as a gong sounded again. She turned and saw the same man from the platform in a white apron standing on the dining room threshold with his brass gong and mallet.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, no need to rush at all, this is your twenty-minute warning. I will come again at ten minutes, five minutes, and departure time. Enjoy your meal and have no fear of missing the train.” The man bowed and stepped out of view into the lobby.
Sophia devoured her meal and before she knew it, dessert had come and gone. A final gong had guests scurrying out to the train as she lingered over a cup of coffee.
When the last guest had departed, Nora wove her way to Sophia’s table. “I hope you enjoyed your first meal with your new Harvey House?”
Sophia nodded, standing. “The food was most impressive and the service impeccable. I can only hope I can learn the dance as effectively and efficiently as you and the other ladies.”
Nora beamed. “Our two chefs are both from Europe and have been taught in only the finest of culinary schools in Paris. As for the service, I am certain you will get the hang of it in no time.” She gestured for Sophia to follow her. “I will show you to our rooms and you can meet the housemother. Her office is in our dormitory quarters across the street, but as it is about to be evening, she is most likely in the dormitory’s downstairs parlor.”
Sophia lifted her skirts and followed Nora across the dusty street to a brick two-story building with three sets of rustic French doors lining the first level. Entering through the middle set, Nora led her down the hall to the very first open door where she paused and lightly knocked on the frame.
“Yes?” answered the plump woman in her late forties, her rich red hair sprinkled in silver was devoid of the stark white bow the rest of the women wore.
“Miss Trent? A new Harvey Girl has arrived.”
The lady stood and extended her hands to Sophia, grasping her. “Yes! Welcome to the Hotel Castañeda. Thank you, Miss Ray. I’ll take it from here.” She patted Nora’s arm, dismissing her, and motioning for Sophia to take a seat on the divan across from the settee where Miss Trent returned. “I am, as you now know, Violet Trent, the housemother. I am here to see after you ladies’ health, your needs, and most importantly, your reputations. You may call me, Miss Trent. It is a pleasure to meet you and to have you on our team, Miss Fairfield.”
Sophia felt her stomach loosen as the kindness in Miss Trent’s voice and demeanor enveloped her. “I cannot say how grateful I am to be given this opportunity, especially with my lack of experience.” Sophia smoothed her travelworn skirts, hating how disheveled she appeared in front of her new employer.
“Yes, well, we will have you trained soon enough. Though, you should know we made an exception in your case with having you not train in Kansas first. There was a bit of a mix up with our new crop of trainees and there were only a handful of girls available to help with the opening of this new hotel, leaving us in quite a spot.”
“I assure you I wish to succeed in this endeavor and will give it my all to learn what is expected of a Harvey Girl.” Sophia hoped she didn’t appear overeager as her father always mentioned when a gentleman overplayed his hand and revealed that he was desperate for a deal, he would agree to lesser terms.
“Good, good. Now, Miss Fairfield, I dislike to be all business right away, but time is of the essence, and I must begin on the rules straight away and then I shall introduce you to the head waitress and the rest of the staff.”
Sophia cleared her throat. “Before I am introduced to the other girls, I have a rather strange request. Would it be acceptable to use a different surname?”
“Not call you Miss Fairfield? Whatever for?” Miss Trent asked, confusion in her tone. “You know we only accept girls with the highest moral behavior. If there is something you need to disclose, I suggest you do it now.”
“Oh, it’s nothing of that nature, I can assure you!” Sophia dipped her head. “I wish to go by my middle name because I do not wish my father to find me. You see, he wishes me to marry a man I do not love.”
Miss Trent shifted in her chair, pulling a plain cotton handkerchief from her sleeve. “Oh, my goodness gracious. I understand your worry, but I am not certain if Mr. Harvey would agree to such a deception.”
Sophia massaged her palm. When she had sent that telegram, she was too distressed to think clearly, but at least this kind woman would know the truth about her situation. “It makes me uneasy as well, but not as uneasy as everyone knowing my surname. Perhaps you could use my middle name, Bird? It was my mother’s maiden name.”
Miss Trent slowly nodded. “I suppose that wouldn’t be too much of a falsehood if it was your mother’s maiden name and is your legal name as well.”
Sophia sighed with relief. “Thank you so much for understanding. I only mean to establish myself and give my father enough time to reconcile with the fact that I am never returning home.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Miss Bird. Now, let’s go over some rules while you follow me to your new quarters upstairs.” She held open the door and motioned Sophia up the stairs. At the landing, she directed them to the left wing, Miss Trent nodding to any Harvey Girl in passing who was off duty. “There are fourteen rooms to one bathroom, so you will need to reserve your slot for bath night.”
At the last door on the left, Miss Trent opened the door to reveal a cozy room with a braided rug and a window dressed in simple blue curtains with crocheted lace trim. On each side of the window were two small beds, and in the far corner of the room stood a wooden rocking chair with a lace doily draped across the top.
“This is the room you’ll share with Miss Ray, the young lady you just met.” She waved her hand over the quilted bed to the right of the window with Sophia’s trunks tucked at its feet. “This is your bed, and I am certain you and Miss Ray will discuss how you will share the closet and such. Just keep your room clean and we won’t have a problem.” She looked Sophia up and down. “Yes, we should have just the right size uniform for you. I’ll have a few dresses sent up for you to try. You will keep two dresses along with four white aprons and some white hair ribbons. If you get even a speck of soil on your apron or dress, you are to excuse yourself and change immediately, which goes for the table linen as well. Mr. Harvey will have nothing but perfection in his restaurant and in his Harvey Girls, but you will go over all that tomorrow with Miss Harriet Lane. She will be training you as she is the head Harvey Girl here.”
Sophia’s head was already spinning with the information, and as she had never had much talent for remembering names, she murmured Miss Lane’s name under her breath for good measure. She could not insult the head waitress with her weak memory.
“The girls may be taken aback by your direct route to the hotel as it is highly irregular. Normally, you would have trained for six weeks in Kansas. All that to say, you will be in training for six weeks and will stay close to Miss Lane to learn the Fred Harvey system. We had an unusual week where one girl was fired for her consistent incompetence and then two girls broke contract and ran off to marry ranchers. We can manage with two girls leaving, but three? If we had known that two girls were running off in the same week, we may not have been so quick to fire Miss Pearson, but she would’ve been fired the minute her replacement was ready.”
A tall blonde with a striking hourglass figure stepped into the room. “Miss Trent, I hear I am to train a new recruit?”
“Yes, this is Miss Fai—Bird,” she stumbled over Sophia’s last name. “Sorry, my dear, I shall master your name in no time. New recruits’ names sometimes elude me,” she added, disguising her blunder.
“No offense taken, of course.” Sophia smiled to the tall blonde. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lane.”
“Good to have you, Miss Bird.”
“I best be off. I have some errands to run, but I’ll return tonight to announce curfew and for the head count,” Miss Trent moved to the door. “Miss Lane, if you could, please be certain to inform Miss Bird on our standards of serving and decorum as well as the rules of the dormitory. I’m sure she will be a perfect fit for our little Harvey family.” She smiled softly to Sophia and shut the door behind her.
Harriet turned to Sophia. “While I am ever so grateful you are here, Miss Bird, you will need to pull your weight around here even if you haven’t been trained. We just fired an insolent girl who would not follow the rules, nor respect the chain of command. She thought herself above such things. But as I’m the head waitress, you will answer to me. Understand?”
“Yes, Miss Lane,” Sophia murmured.
Harriet chuckled. “First off, the girls never call each other by our last names. It is too formal. Miss Trent is the only one we shall address so formally. I’m Harriet and I shall call you?”
“Sophia.”
“Sophia. In front of guests, however, we shall add Miss. We start preparing for each train thirty minutes before it is scheduled to arrive, so I suggest you wake an hour and a half before the first train to dress and eat a quick bite. I must warn you not to be late for breakfast, or you will go without a meal until your lunch break. I have suffered one too many empty stomachs, and believe me, it is difficult to work under such conditions. After you have learned how to run both the counter and the dining room, you will then take your turn on the night shifts.” She paused in her rapid recitation and nodded toward Sophia’s soiled gown. “I’ve assigned you to have a turn with the bath tonight.”
“Thank you. I haven’t felt clean since I left my home.”
Harriet smiled. “I figured you would. Get unpacked and I will see you in the morning to begin.”
Sophia sighed as she sank beside her bed and knelt by her trunks. Lifting the lids, she shook the wrinkles out of each dress and laid it on the bed before pulling out her lace trimmed, beribboned underdrawers and a brown package fell to the floor. Carver’s gift. She slipped the little note out from under the string and read:
To tell you what is in my heart. . . if only one could change what is to what could be.
Yours, C. Ashton
She pulled the string, unwrapped the paper and read the spine. John Keats. Her fingers lingered over the author’s name. She opened the book and was surprised to find wear on the pages. She flipped to the inside cover and found Carver’s name printed. This is his own copy! She ran her fingers over his signature and hugged the book to her chest. God, wherever he is please bless him. Help me endure missing him. She set the treasured book upright on her nightstand beside her Bible and heard a metallic clink.
She lifted the book to find a small gold locket that must have been inside the pages. Her fingers trembled as she opened it to find Carver’s dear face, his strong jawline, Grecian nose and dimples twisted her heart with loneliness—his kind eyes reminding her of what she could never possess. On the opposite half, were a few faded pressed petals. She gasped in recognition. That day in the square. He kept the flowers from my hair. She closed the piece and fastened it about her neck, already feeling bolstered in a place all too unknown. If he had given her such a gift, he would never betray her location to Prescott.
She removed a sheet of stationary from the writing desk, having thought on the train long and hard what she would write Carver, if she had the courage. But the book of Keats and locket with the petals had crumbled her inhibitions. She paused in her thanks, wishing she could write what was on her heart. She glanced to Keats and decided to be bold once more, since she would likely never write him again.
Dearest Carver, thank you for the lovely gifts. Even without them, I would never forget our time together. I am safe and I think I will be happy in my new position. Please, do not tell anyone of this letter, or I will regret my moment of weakness to tell you that my heart echoes yours in wishing we had met in another fashion.
Before she could change her mind, Sophia finished with a poem from Tennyson, folded the letter, slipped it into an envelope, and directed it to his New Orleans office. She should be embarrassed for having memorized his New Orleans addresses from Father’s ledger in order to look them up on the map, but she could only be thankful now that she had.
A gentle knock sounded on the door and Nora slipped inside. “Normally, I won’t be knocking as this is my room as well, but I figured, since you’re new, I’d knock at first so as to give you a chance to make yourself decent if needed.”
Sophia smiled, the note weighing heavily in her hands. “Thank you for the consideration.”
Nora waved her forward to the hallway. “The girls have just finished cleaning up from the last shift and the night shift is about to leave the dormitory, so you, of course, should meet everyone as they come and go.”
Sophia joined her new roommate in the hallway at the foot of the stairs as the gaggle of girls passed to and from their shifts, each introducing themselves to Sophia. At the front of the line was the head waitress Harriet with a thin, pretty red-haired girl at her side who nodded to Sophia.
“I’m Dolly Matthews.” She looked Sophia up and down. “Though, with your comely features, I doubt you will need to remember my name for you will not be with us long.”
“No longer than you, Dolly! If you weren’t so picky, you could have been engaged at least twenty times in the past month,” Nora giggled.
“Twenty-three times, actually,” Dolly replied with a wink.
Sophia gasped. “Surely you are jesting?”
“If anything, she has forgotten a time or two a cowpoke has asked for her hand.” A girl about Sophia’s height with brown curly hair and bright green eyes stuck her hand out. “I’m Fannie Traverse. If you are looking for the best place to be picky about a future spouse, you are in for a treat. There are oodles of men falling at your feet daily.”
“Not every girl is desperate to be swept off her feet like you and Dolly.” Harriet teased, rolling her eyes with a laugh.
“And you aren’t? We see the way you make eyes at Sheriff Kane—” Fannie fired back.
Harriet sent her a blazing scowl. Fannie’s cheeks heated as she snapped her mouth closed. Thinking it was best to ignore that little transaction, Sophia continued down the line exchanging pleasantries.
A curvaceous woman with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes pulled Sophia into a quick embrace. “Now, don’t be embarrassed if you have to ask for our names more than a few times because there are nine of us ladies . . . well, now that you are here, ten young ladies working in this fine establishment and hopefully more on the way.”
Sophia took her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss—?”
“Just like me to leave off that part! I’m Jenny Stuart from Chicago.”
Harriet clapped her hands. “So sorry ladies, but we must see to the coming train. I am certain you will all have ample time to converse with Sophia, but you won’t have enough sleep if you don’t get into your beds and those who are on night shift need to get downstairs now.” Her gaze fell on Sophia’s gold locket. “Also, we aren’t allowed to wear any jewelry.”
Sophia’s hand at once enclosed about the dear piece. The locket was the only part of Carver she had left besides the book of poems. “Could I wear it under my uniform?”
Harriet’s brows lifted. “Challenging the rules already?”
“No. I want to be sure I don’t break any.”
To that reply, Harriet nodded. “Wear it under your uniform, but if I ever see a hint of the gold while you are on duty, I’m afraid that you will have to be penalized. If it happens a second time, you will be dismissed. Now, you should take your bath and ready yourself for bed for you have an early morning tomorrow.”
Sophia followed most of the girls upstairs, while two others sought their rooms on the first floor.
Nora grasped Jenny’s arm at the second-floor landing. “Before you go to your room, I have that book you lent me,” she whispered and pushed open the bedroom door.
“You both enjoy reading?” Hope kindled in Sophia’s belly that maybe she would have some kindred spirits.
“Well, Jenny does, but I could barely make it through the first chapter of the great classic she insisted on lending me.” She reached under her feather pillow and retrieved a copy of Emma and plopped it into Jenny’s hands.
Jenny groaned. “Such injustice to Miss Austen. Every girl needs to read at least one of her books. But, speaking of books, what do I spy on your nightstand, Sophia?” Jenny’s gaze landed on Sophia’s crimson book beside Carver’s worn copy.
Sophia moved to show her the titles but tripped over an object at the foot of the bed, sending her scrambling to grab the short iron bedpost to keep from falling. She searched for what had tripped her, frowning at the sight of the posts of the bed standing in . . . bowls of water? She glanced to Nora’s bed and found it the same. How had she not noticed them straightaway? “What in the world?”
Nora shivered, unable to disguise her grimace. “You will find out soon enough as we all do.”
“Judging from your faces, I think I’d rather not know, but now I find I must know, or my imaginings may be worse.” Sophia looked to Jenny.
Jenny sighed. “And this is the part where I fear we might lose any new Harvey Girl. The bowls of water deter scorpions from climbing into our beds.”
Sophia’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“Scorpions.” Nora demonstrated the size of the creature between her finger and thumb. “They are these tiny little leviathans—”
Sophia pressed her hands to her stomach. The truth was far worse than her imaginings. “I’ve read about them, but I didn’t think they existed in the middle of a town. I thought I might see one out in the desert, but in my bedroom? Never.” She shivered. What have I gotten myself into?
“Well, when the town exists in New Mexico, you better believe we have to deal with them. The bowls of water are only one of our precautionary measures.” Nora opened the closet door and from the corner, removed a rug beater. “When you select your dress in the morning, or any article of clothing for that matter, you must beat it.” She removed a dress and whacked it vigorously, a small scorpion falling to the floor, curling up in death.
The girls squealed and leapt atop Nora’s bed, Sophia smacking her head against the wall in her haste.
Sophia pressed her fingers to her temples, drawing deep breaths. “Please tell me this is some sort of elaborate induction jest?”
“Honestly, I have yet to see one actually fall out of a dress before.” Nora pressed a hand to her chest. “But why would we all have a rug beater in our closet if we were teasing you? Oh, and you are going to want to flip over your shoes and give them a good sound shake before slipping them on. You might get an unpleasant surprise if you don’t.”
Sophia clutched the bedframe, feeling faint.
“Speaking of shoes,” Nora skirted the dead scorpion and looked over the two pairs Sophia had already unpacked and selected a black pair in the plainest style and lowest heel. “These will do quite well for your uniform. However, they are still a bit high, but I think you must be used to wearing shoes with heels.” Nora smiled and handed the pair to Sophia. “Also, judging from the quality of your wardrobe, you aren’t accustomed to hard labor, are you?”
Sophia’s cheeks heated. She had selected her simplest attire for the journey and yet, Nora saw straight through her attempt to blend into the group. “No, but I am willing to learn, and I’m not afraid to give it my best.” I only hope that my best will be enough.
Fannie poked her curly head through the cracked door. “Hurry, ladies! Miss Trent is making her way across the street for the evening roll call. Best don your nightgowns or you will be dressing in the dark!”
“Well, I wish I could share a room with you two, but I’ve got to get back to Whiny Wailing Dismal Dolly’s room.” Jenny sighed and stood. “Let me tell you. It would try the patience of Job to listen to Dolly moan about her wanting a rich husband to come rescue her and why don’t the rich young gentlemen ever propose to her over the lunch counter like the dirty, dusty old ranchers?” She lifted her face toward the ceiling. “I can only pray that our shifts will split, and we will only have to see one another in passing.”
“The ranchers really do propose to her that much?” Sophia’s lips parted again before she could stop herself. She snapped it shut.
Nora laughed. “Yes, but don’t worry. Fannie is right about men falling at your feet. You won’t be left out. I guarantee you will have ten proposals before the week is out!”