<div class="floatleft">(http://unitedagents.co.uk/sites/default/files/wallisA.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Evangeline "Eva" Hargrove<br/><strong>Occupation:</strong>Guest (Television Writer)<br/><strong>Time:</strong>August 31st, before lunch<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Barn<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Watching.  Thinking.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em>Am I doing the right thing?</em><br/><br/>It was a question that had been upon her mind ever since she had said 'yes' to the proposal.  After all of the talk, all of the back and forth...  The uncomfortable truths each other faced...  The harsh realities they had come to terms with...  Evangeline had finally given in to her husband's idea.<br/><br/>She never stopped questioning her choice.  Was she doing the right thing?  Could she bring herself to go through with such a thing?<br/><br/>When Thomas had suggested it, Eva's first instinct was to laugh.  It sounded absurdly hilarious, some sort of tale that was odd and beyond belief.  He couldn't have been serious, she had thought.  But he was serious, and firm in his convictions that this place, this Ranch, would be the best solution.  She hadn't wanted to believe him at first.  She had to think he was playing some game, some unamusing game given their repeated failed efforts.  A chance to have a child of their own...  Even if he wasn't the father...  Confidential, trusted, with no worries and no questions waiting for them.<br/><br/>She had agreed in the end, agreed with difficulty.  But the questioning did not stop.  If anything, the questioning and pit in her stomach of doubt only intensified as she packed her things, as she took that flight, and journeyed in the luxury bus waiting to take she, and the other attendees away.  Was she doing the right thing?<br/><br/>No mess.  No hassle.<br/><br/>No running the risk of choosing some unknown, unvetted stranger.<br/><br/>No chancing their issues and marital problems getting out and in the open by asking a friend.<br/><br/>No more strenuous rounds of testing and fertilization that yielded no results.<br/><br/>On the surface, it was the right thing.  For both of their collective sanity, at the very least.  It was a solution to all of the questions and troubles they had, a sure-fire way to escape the difficult questions and obstacles they faced and worried about in their quest to add another to their family.  She knew that.  But it still did nothing to quell the little questions that popped into her head, did nothing to deflate the balloon of nerves and anxiety that bubbled up within her.<br/><br/>She needed to relax.  Evangeline knew that.  It would do no good to go into such a place, with such a goal and intention in mind, being such a ball of nerves.  She had told others, family and friends and coworkers, that she was supposed to be taking a little vacation, a getaway to relax and unwind.  That was how she had to approach it.  A vacation, with carte blanche to do whatever she desired.<br/><br/>When the bus came to a stop, and the doors opened to allowed she and the other attendees to disembark, Eva did so quietly.  In some ways she felt like it was the first day of going to work in a new place, surrounded by strangers, engulfed by the great unknown that was the atmosphere around her.  One step at a time, she told herself, as she followed the other attendees into the barn where the presentation and greeting ceremony would begin.<br/><br/>Eva stood in the blend of the crowd as the owner, the man introduced as Virgil began to speak and explain everything that needed to be said and explained.  Only vaguely did she listen, her mind occupied with the sight of the so called Studs that had been brought out.  Her eyes looked over them over the heads of the other women in attendance, her cheeks reddening with a shade of embarrassment.  How could she not, seeing who these men were supposed to be, knowing what these men were there for, and what they were on the Ranch.<br/><br/>They were handsome, to say the least.  Each and every one of them attractive.  A collection of men that any woman would have dreamed of being with, the objects of so many fantasies.  There was no denying the attraction she felt towards some of them, the rising flush of heat and blood that purred through her veins.  She couldn't bring her eyes up to meet some of the glances of them, bashfully looking away.<br/><br/><em>God, did I need a drink...</em>