He kicked back in his desk chair and fiddled with the expensive pen in his hand. “You’re on her side.”
She laughed—long and hard. “Of course I’m on her side. Your father is an absolute alpha hotel.”
Heidi’s husband was retired military, and she tended to reduce terms used in the vernacular to their military equivalent. “Yeah. But what else is new?”
She stared at him, both hands on her hips now. “Really? You have to ask this question?” She rolled her eyes when he remained silent. “You, boss. You’re what’s new. The way you’re looking at this situation, the way you’re reacting. This girl’s gotten to you. Why her after all the other stuff your old man has done, I don’t know. But you’ve changed.”
He shook his head. “No. No, I haven’t, Heidi. If I had, I wouldn’t be sitting here with these papers on my desk.”
Heidi snorted. “Yes, you have. The old Chance would have filed the paperwork the first day and served the girl at her daddy’s funeral. The old Chance would not sit here stewing over what an alpha hotel his father is, and the old Chance would not care one whit that he was following in his old man’s footsteps. But here you are.” She shook her head and started to wag her finger one more time but resisted. “I’m going home. Turn out the lights when you leave, boss.”
In the silence following her departure, Chance swiveled his chair to stare out the window behind his desk. The Barron Building, all forty stories of it, dominated the skyline. From his view on the thirty-sixth floor, the southwestern expanses of the metroplex unfolded before him. He picked out the historic Farmer’s Market building and beyond it, Stockyard City. The phone on his desk rang, but he ignored it. It was still ringing when his cell phone started. He didn’t have to check his caller ID. At least one brother would be calling, probably two. Or worse, Cassie’s number would stare back at him.
He’d done what they wanted—distanced himself from her. He listened to her messages—for a while at least—craving some tiny connection to her. Then he had to delete them without listening. Her voice tore his heart to shreds, and it took every ounce of self-discipline to keep from driving to the Crazy M to claim her.
Why did he have to choose between his family and the wonderful woman who’d captured his heart? But he knew the answer whenever he looked in the mirror. Take away everything else, he was a Barron. Through and through. Dammit. And when it came to women, being a Barron guaranteed the lady in question would get hurt.
* * *
Cass wore the same austere suit she’d worn to her dad’s funeral. The sleeves bunched a little, and she realized all the physical labor she’d done lately had changed her body—slimmed some of the curves and packed on muscle. That wasn’t a bad thing.
An office door opened, and she sat up straighter, but the woman who emerged ignored her, walking straight to the front of the bank.
Cass settled back against the uncomfortable chair and wondered again why she was doing this. She hated the ranch. The life didn’t suit her at all. She wanted to sleep late on the weekends. Go out to dinner. Work in an office where her friends gossiped about the latest celebrity breakups and makeups, the hot new television show, the ugly dresses on the red carpet. Except she didn’t care about those things. Not really.
Another door opened and she leaned forward, peering down the long hallway. A man stepped out and headed away from her. She glanced at the wall clock above the receptionist’s head. Eleven o’clock. Two hours she’d waited. So far. The loan officer had already passed her up the chain to the bank president—who was stalling her. Surely he would leave for lunch. If she couldn’t get in to see him before, she’d grab him on his way out.