by Leslie North
'All her time' is still an understatement, Sawyer thought. She's spent an entire life trying to please you.
He noticed Bella over Mr. Whitmore's right shoulder. She stood closer to their conversation than he remembered, still politely engaged in her own discussion, but Sawyer could swear that her head was angled slightly toward them. She was eavesdropping…and hearing every sexist word that fell out of her father's mouth.
"Little lady actually thinks she'll be named CEO of my company!" Mr. Whitmore grunted and raised his wineglass to his lips. Sawyer thought the other man had already drunk more than enough but said nothing. He unfortunately found himself aboard the runaway train that was Tristan Whitmore's nasty stream of consciousness. "As a cowboy, Sawyer, I'd expect you to understand the place women occupy in our society…and it's not in the boardroom. Yes, women have their place, and Bella needs to learn that."
Sawyer took a long swig of his whiskey. It burned him up on the inside as much as Mr. Whitmore's words did, but in the aftermath of being subjected to old New England philosophy, it was a purifying fire. Over Mr. Whitmore's shoulder, he noticed Bella's face flame as scarlet as her dress before she turned away. If she had been planning to enter their conversation at some point, her plans had clearly changed.
"You know, Mr. Whitmore," Sawyer said, broadcasting his voice loud enough that the conversations around them suddenly stilled. "That's an interesting take for a businessman. Seems to me that if you go through with that plan, you'd be losing the best person to take your business into the future—and I hope you’ll be losing her and her talent for bringing in business to me. Unlike some men, I'm not afraid to let a woman take over."
A murmur of astonishment broke out around them. Mr. Whitmore stared at Sawyer as if he had just lapsed into a foreign language…and said something that was still observably insulting. Sawyer deposited his empty whiskey glass on a passing waiter's tray and moved toward the exit. He brushed by Bella on his way out. Her lips were parted, and her thickly-lashed eyes flung open in shock. Speechless, Sawyer recognized with some amusement. He had never known Bella to wear that particular expression before.
He would have loved to stick around and get to know her look better, but he’d had enough of Boston art galleries for one night. It was enough to make him miss the ranch back home in Montana. Sawyer rarely allowed himself to acknowledge his roots, even privately, in such elite company, but he'd had his fill of New England for a while.
It was time to head home.
Grab your copy of The Cowboy’s Forgetful Bride (Brothers of Cooper Ranch Book 1)
from www.LeslieNorthBooks.com