Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(92)

practice your rope-tying skills.” She threw the rope at him and disappeared down the

hallway.


Maybe you’ll call me when you need to practice your rope-tying skills? Oh hell no.

That would not fly with him.


Ben heard the door slam. By the time he made it outside, her car was halfway up the

drive.


Oh, little sub, you’ve just landed yourself in a whole passel of trouble.


Chapter Fifteen


Ainsley spent all day Monday on the phone with Chase McKay’s publicist and going back

and forth with Steve Talbot, president of Settler’s First Bank. They’d come to an

agreement about co-sponsoring the local event as a platform for Chase to announce his

new charity. Steve’s attempts to cut National West out of the event entirely

displeased Mayor Mark, who championed the idea of both banks providing a united front

to the community.


So at the end of the day, she felt she’d accomplished something. So much of her duties

as bank president were busy work. Seemed she spent her life on the phone.


Not that she minded. She’d taken the position because the regional manager assured

Ainsley that the bulk of her job would be schmoozing locals into switching a portion of

their banking business to National West. Ainsley could handle PR; it’s what she did

best. She figured the event would show the locals that this bank was interested in

investing in the community. In the next month she’d approach individual businesses,

touting the benefits of diversifying their banking needs.


During her divorce, she’d needed a career change. Intrigued by the management end of

banking, she’d taken over a small branch office in a low-income suburb of Denver no

one else wanted to tackle. Determined to keep the branch from closing, she’d

approached every business, big and small, in the three-mile radius, talking up the

benefits of banking locally. She used the bank’s allotted community funds to resurrect

small community events that were underfunded, but much beloved. She volunteered her

time, which had a huge impact on convincing locals of her sincerity. The hard work, the

unpaid hours of overtime, had paid off. In that year she’d increased that branch’s

business banking operation by twenty-five percent and the personal banking business by

thirteen percent. Quite a coup for a woman who’d spent the previous six years as a PR

assistant.


Now here she was in Sundance, basically starting over again. With her PR savvy and

Turton as the bean counter, on paper they looked like an unbeatable team to make this

branch a rousing success from the get go. But in reality, Turton was bitter Ainsley had

been awarded the job. And she still hadn’t figured out the best way to deal with him.


Jenny knocked on her door. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s an extremely agitated

woman pacing in the lobby. Turton tried to help her but she refuses to talk to anyone

but the bank president.”


“I’ll be right there.” Ainsley set aside the stack of files, and straightened her

short suit jacket as she made her way around the desk.


But the agitated woman met her at the office door. “Are you the bank president?”


“Yes. I’m Ainsley Hamilton. What can I do for you?”


“Don’t treat me like an idiot, for starters.”