Cinderella's Tycoon

“Yeah, and you need to call your lawyer,” Max informed him tartly. She made a sour face. “I’m tellin’ you, for such a supposed hotshot, that man is plenty excitable. He’s called here three times, babblin’ about some message you left on his answering machine and insistin’ he has to talk to you.”

“Great,” Sterling murmured. “Anything else?”

“As a matter of fact, yessir there is. Greg Hunt called. Said he had some information for you about that immigrant you and some of the other gentlemen from the Cattleman’s Club are sponsoring and that he’d appreciate it if you’d give him a call.”

“Terrific.” With a stiff nod, he walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

Susan stared after him, telling herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Rather than being deliberately rude, he probably just hadn’t adjusted his thinking yet to include a wife. Once he did, he’d no doubt be appalled at his thoughtlessness in practically abandoning her at the front door.

As if reading her mind, Maxine laid a hand on her shoulder and urged her toward the sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. “Don’t mind him, darlin’,” she said breezily. “The first thing you gotta know about the boss is that beneath all that growl, the man’s a cupcake. Not—” she rolled her eyes “—that he’d ever admit it, you understand.”