Chapter Twelve
Her warm fuzzy feelings dissipated by mid-afternoon. Sterling Walker was as stubborn as a mule who lived to make her life impossible. He perched on the edge of her antique farm table, arms bulging as he crossed them. Implacable. Immovable. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she snapped, giving into the frustration coursing through her. “We’re dealing with different groups of people. Beer and poker aren’t going to cut it. Not for a group of donors who are used to naming rights.”
His mouth turned down. “But that’s what guys like.”
“Your guys. Not all guys. I guarantee you the Belger Family Foundation will find that beneath them.”
He side-eyed her as she paced in front of him. “Don’t you think they’re going to hate sitting on hay bales at an outdoor conce
