Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(50)

He walked beside her—right beside her—up the sidewalk. “I trust you’ll handle the

situation with Rita this week?”


No hello, no good morning, no surprise. Half the time she wondered how Turton had

reached management level because he had zero social skills and practically no tact.

“Yes. I believe she works tomorrow.”


“Good. Because I’d hate to think you were showing favoritism and we’d have

disgruntled employees—”


“I said, I’d handle it, so can we please drop it?” She felt him breathing down her

neck as they walked single file into the bank lobby and it creeped her out.


She stopped for a minute and took stock of the space. The lobby paid tribute to Wyoming

’s western heritage. Stacked slabs of native stone, exposed wooden beams, rusty barbed

wire used throughout in unique ways. Even the chairs were covered in cowhide. The

corporation had invested in local artists for the rest of the décor, large bronzes,

painted scenes with cowboys and Indians, as well as a large mural depicting the

spectacular and desolate landscape in the Sundance area. The brand new building had

only been open for business two weeks and Ainsley already thought of the place as hers.


Evidently Turton had been trying to engage her in conversation, or treating her to a

thinly veiled comment about her incompetence, and when she hadn’t responded, he’d

stormed off to his office.


She ditched her coat and briefcase in her office before heading to the employee break

room for a cup of coffee. Leslie, the lone loan officer, sat at the break table,

dunking a teabag in hot water while she flipped through the newspaper. She glanced up

and smiled. “How was your weekend?”


Enlightening. “Too short. How about yours?”


“Between the kids’ activities and the laundry I was happy to come to work this

morning.”


Jenny, the receptionist, sitting next to Leslie, said, “My car wouldn’t start and my

dad couldn’t figure out what’s wrong with it, so I spent the entire weekend carless,

at home watching TV instead of barhopping with my friends.” She sent Leslie a sly

look. “If I can’t get my car fixed, I might have to come to you for a loan for a new

car.”


“You’d have to make an appointment for next week, because I’m full up this week,”

Leslie said.


“That’s always good news to hear first thing on Monday morning.”


“So what did you do this weekend, Miss Hamilton?” Jenny asked, giving Ainsley’s suit

a thorough inspection.


Miss Hamilton. Like she was an old spinster. The twenty-something woman was a tad

mean-spirited, but efficient, so usually Ainsley let her barbs slide. Not today. She

poked Jenny back. “Oh, I went to a club.”


Jenny furrowed her brow. “Like a supper club or a knitting club or something?”


The little snot. “No, to a night club.”


“Which one?”


“You wouldn’t know it. It’s out of town. I had a great time but it was exhausting. I

discovered muscles I hadn’t used in years.” She smiled and sailed from the room.


Her taunt literally came back to bite her in the ass when her butt met the leather seat