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“I took your advice about Eldon, too.” Hunter folded his hands on his desk. She noticed his knuckles were white, as if he were gripping his hands tightly despite his casual pose.
Oh, no. Did he fire his assistant-slash-butler? Now she felt bad. “He’s very loyal—”
“He’s a cranky old bastard,” Hunter admitted. “But yes, he’s very loyal. He’s also elderly and has family in the west. I gave him a very large retirement bonus as thanks for his tireless work, and I suggested he visit his daughters for a time. And I hired some additional staff at Buchanan Manor. It’s rather . . . quiet lately.”
She inclined her head back to the main room. “Maylee’s not exactly what I had in mind when I suggested you hire a new assistant.”
To her vast amusement, he grimaced. “Maylee is a . . . problem.”
“She seems like a sweet girl.”
“That is the problem.” Hunter sighed and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “When I had Eldon call the agency, I told them to find me someone pleasant. She’s very pleasant,” he said in a sour voice. “But I feel I should have been more specific. She’s not good with computers. Or phones. Or the copier.”
A giggle escaped her throat.
He gave her a vexed look, seemingly aggrieved. “Yesterday, she set up a meeting for a client and then didn’t tell me about it because she couldn’t find her sticky note. I was extremely . . . annoyed.”
“Oh, no. What did you do?”
“I suggested she use the computer to keep my schedule instead of Post-it notes.”
Gretchen thought back to the sea of yellow sticky notes on Maylee’s desk. “And what did she say?”
“Nothing,” he said in a pained voice. “She cried.”
“What did you do?”
“What else could I do? I gave her a raise.”
Gretchen burst into laughter. “Really?”
He looked aggrieved. “This is her first job since leaving Arkansas and no one else will hire her because she is a hick, as she likes to tell me. I can’t fire the poor girl simply because she’s unorganized.”
“You big softy,” Gretchen teased, her heart swelling with warmth. “Maybe you should hire an assistant for your assistant.”
“Maybe so.” His gaze moved over her with obvious pleasure. “You look beautiful.”
She shivered at the husky tone of his voice. He looked so delicious that she wanted to crawl across the desk, start kissing him, and never stop. She forced herself to look at the gigantic windows instead.
“Forgive me,” Hunter said in a tight voice. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. Did you see my invitation?”
She glanced at him in surprise. “I haven’t been by work yet. You sent me an invitation?”
His nod was short. “Today’s flowers came with an invitation to a charity fundraiser scheduled for this weekend. A ball. It’s at Buchanan Manor.”
Her eyes widened and she sat on the edge of her chair. “You’re hosting a charity ball? Are you serious? Who are you and what have you done with Hunter?”
Hunter gave her a patient look. “I was approached because the venue that the charity ball had originally been scheduled for cancelled on them. They were desperate. It seemed like the polite thing to do.”
Polite had never bothered him before, though. “What should I wear?”
His eyes warmed at her question. “Something formal. I’m told there will be dancing.”
“Do you plan on dancing with me?”
“If you’ll be my date.”
“Oh, you just want me to be your date because I put out,” she said in a teasing voice.
