Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(93)

Okay. So she was testy. “I’d appreciate the same courtesy, Miss…”


The petite redhead looked up. Her large eyes were a pale shade of blue that made her

pupils stand out. A striking combination, given the woman’s gamine features. “Sorry.

I’m Joely Monroe.”


“Well, Miss Monroe, let’s talk in my office. Could I get you something to drink?”


“I don’t suppose you’ve got vodka?”


Ainsley muttered, “I wish. We’ve got coffee. Water. Hot tea?”


“Nothing, thanks.”


“Have a seat.” After they’d both settled, Ainsley said, “Is there a problem with

your account?”


“I don’t have an account here. That’s the problem.” She jammed a hand through her

hair, cut in an asymmetrical style few women could pull off. “My accounts have always

been with Settler’s First. Not by choice, I assure you. But there is no bank in

Moorcroft and I didn’t want to drive even farther to Spearfish to do my business

banking.”


“Your business is in Moorcroft?”


“I have a medical practice. Small town doctor-type stuff, it’s just me and two

nurses. Anyway, we’ve been having problems with our credit card machine. It locks up,

and then it won’t generate reports. A big pain in the butt since so much business is

done on that machine. Settler’s First installed the machine as part of their full-

service banking promise. But any time it goes down, their advice? Unplug it from the

wall for a couple minutes and plug it back in. When that doesn’t work, they claim it’

s my Internet connection causing the problems, which it’s not. The machine has gone

down fifteen times in the last month. And not once has anyone from that bank contacted

me to see if the problem is fixed, or if they should show up and troubleshoot the

problem if it isn’t. I’m tired of fighting with them. I’m tired of my office manager

losing her mind on me because we’ve got thousands of dollars in transit every time the

machine goes down. So I’m shopping for a new bank. But before I go to the trouble of

changing accounts and telling Steve Talbot where to shove it, I’d like some guarantee

that I’ll get decent customer service from this bank.”


Ainsley smiled. “We can do much better than decent on the customer service end. We’ve

got a Denver-based IT team here on Wednesday. I’ll send them your way and they can

check everything in your office, from the phone lines to the Internet service to the

credit card machine itself. And if those guys can’t figure out the problem? They’ll

find someone who can.”


Her eyes lit up. “Really? You’d do that?”


“Yes, assuming you open an account with us.” Or multiple accounts.


“Done. What now?”


“The usual boring bank stuff. You’ll have to fill out reams of paperwork, but it’ll

be worth it in the long run, I promise.”


Doctor Monroe glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. Don’t you banker

types lock the doors at five?” She scowled. “I took off early today to address this

problem with Settler’s First only to find out their lobby closes at four.”