Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(161)

avoidance of scandal, after the fiasco with a nonprofit group that’d felled the man

tapped to take the president’s position, she suspected she’d be fired. With jobs so

hard to come by in the financial world, she’d be lucky to find another job anywhere in

the banking industry.


And admitting her sexual relationship with Ben had ended the day he applied for the

loan would be a moot point. Another moot point would be defending her decision to

process the loan herself because Leslie had left the office that day due to illness.

And yet another moot point would be mentioning she’d sent loan paperwork through

herself all the time in her previous bank position. It wasn’t like Ben McKay hadn’t

met all the criteria required of every other person who applied for a loan.


All valid points that wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference now.


“I’ve set up a conference call for Thursday.”


Turton stood, wearing a look of fake sympathy she wanted to smack right off his face.


Great plan, Ainsley. Add assault to your charges.


“And not to worry, I will have the utmost discretion with this matter.” But only

until it’s resolved and then I’ll gossip with glee, was heavily implied.


She closed the computer programs. Tidied up the papers on her desk. Made a stack of

filing to finish so Turton could easily find the files after she got canned. She was

half tempted to track down a box for easy transport of her measly personal belongings,

so she wouldn’t have to paw through the damn Dumpster on Thursday afternoon.


Jenny knocked on the door. “I’m leaving. Do you need anything else?”


“No.”


A pause. Then, “Is everything okay?”


You know damn well it isn’t.


“Fine.” Ainsley didn’t look up. While she knew this situation wasn’t Jenny’s

fault, she’d definitely played a part in bringing it about.


The door closed quietly.


Ainsley drove home on autopilot. She slipped on pajamas and snuggled with her cats. But

even they tired of her tears after a while. Miserable, her red-rimmed gaze swept over

her living room. She still had stuff in boxes. That’d make moving easier.


Easier. Right. This was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.


Ainsley debated on answering the door when Ben knocked. She’d spent the last twenty-

four hours in misery, coming to some harsh realizations—about herself, her life and

Ben. But she couldn’t postpone the inevitable so she flipped the locks and let him in.


Ben blew right past her. “I went by the bank today but you weren’t there.”


Great. Like she needed more fuel added to the fire by Ben casually stopping by. “I

took a personal day.”


“Huh.” Ben yanked off his duster and draped it across the back of the couch.


Huh? That was it? For a man who claimed to be so in tune with her, why hadn’t he

noticed her distraction? Her haggard appearance?


Then he was right there, peering into her face with raptness that made her feel as

transparent as glass. “Tell me what’s wrong.”


“I might be about to lose my job.”


Ben went motionless. “What? Why?”