“You have got to be kidding me!” she whispered.
“What?” Logan turned to see what she was talking about and started laughing.
“This isn’t funny. I’m going to kill Dougal—and that bloody dog.” She tried to scramble out of bed but got tangled in the sheets. “Don’t just sit there. Help me,” she demanded.
With a chuckle, Logan freed her and set her on her feet beside the bed. “I don’t think you’re up to this,” he said.
“Thanks for the encouragement.” She rummaged around in her dresser drawer until she found a pair of sunglasses and put them on. That was better. Then she grabbed her boots and shoved her feet into them. It would have to do.
Still wearing the Christmas sweatshirt and jeans she’d slept in, she staggered out of her room. It took holding on to the handrail with both hands to get her down the stairs, and every step drove a spike through her left eyeball.
Logan appeared beside her, looking fresh and awake. “Maybe you should do this when you’re feeling better?”
“No. I’m doing this now.” She made her way along the first-floor corridor to the console that sat in the middle of the longest wall. It held a vase of flowers and some magazines.
She’d always focused on the flowers, making sure they were fresh, and she’d never noticed what was under the table. Well, she was paying attention now. After getting to her knees, which took four million years and made her head throb like a bad disco beat, she crawled to the wall—where a tiny cupboard door stood ajar.
Agnes eased it open and peeked inside. Amongst the cables and dust lay a treasure trove of stolen goods—and a bloody dog.
“That’s it. I’m done.” Agnes dragged the dog out of the cupboard and inched backward with it clutched under one arm.
Logan had to help her to her feet again and then hold her until she’d stopped swaying. “The lights in this hotel are too damn bright. Doesn’t Dougal care about his electricity bill?” Even with the sunglasses, her eyes still hurt. “I’m okay now, so you can let go. I’m going to the bar.”
“People say the hair of the dog is the best cure for a hangover,” he said as he followed her. “Trust me—they’re wrong. You’d be better off in bed with a glass of water and some ibuprofen.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun with my pain. I’m going to the bar to return Dougal’s thieving dog to its owner and give my boss a piece of my mind. Believe me, it’s long overdue. Now, are you coming or not?” She narrowed her eyes at him behind her sunglasses.
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Getting to the bar took longer than she would have liked. Each step was like negotiating a descent from Everest, all while holding a squirming canine thief and being monitored by Logan.
As she’d expected, her boss stood behind the bar, polishing glasses and checking the bottles for the day ahead.
“Would you believe it?” he said when he saw them. “Another bottle of whisky’s gone missing.”
“Oh, I’d believe it,” Logan drawled.
“Look at you with Arnold.” Dougal smiled at the dog. “And you said you weren’t a dog person. You’ll have no trouble at all looking after him while I’m in Spain.”
“Dougal,” Agnes snapped, then winced at the sound of her own voice. “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”
He gaped at her. “You can’t resign—this is market weekend.”
“Stop shouting!” She held up a hand as if to ward off the noise. “Whisper or die.”
“What she means,” Logan said, “is that she’s got a stinking headache.”
“Oh, aye, I understand,” Dougal said softly, for him. “I need you this weekend. You can’t resign. And what about while I’m in Spain? Who’ll look after the place? Or Arnold?”
That reminded her. She handed Dougal his scabby dog. “You’re not going to Spain, because, no matter what you do, Betty won’t sell you the land you need. She thinks the conference center is a dumb idea.” She paused and took a breath. To hell with it. She might as well get it all out of her system. “I do, too. It isn’t going to bring business to town, not in a way that will revive it. But that’s another issue. Your dog is the thief. He has a stash under the table in the first-floor hallway. And Betty’s the one who’s been stealing your whisky.”
Dougal sucked in a breath. “I’m going to wring her scrawny old neck.”
“On top of that, I ate the carrot cake with Betty last night while we were getting drunk on stolen whisky after hours. And she may, or may not, have left with a ham. Feel free to tell the planet I’m a useless, thieving hotel manager. I don’t care, because I hate hotels and I’m never going to work in one again. Consider this my resignation. Not only from this job but also from this career.” Although, why she was giving it to Dougal, she didn’t know. She guessed it was the symbolism that counted. Turning to Logan, she said, “Can I come home with you?”
“Aye.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned toward the door to the carpark. “We’ll sort out her room later,” he told Dougal.
“But she can’t resign.” Dougal looked a little shell-shocked.
“She just did,” Logan said, opening the door for them.
Agnes was done with the hotel. “I want to sleep for a month. Can I sleep in your bed for a month?”
“Sure, but you should know it’s Saturday and the kids are there. They’ll think I’ve brought my girlfriend home.”
“I’m past caring.” If he wasn’t bothered about parading her around in front of them, why should she be? “But I’m not having sex while they’re in the house. That’s just wrong.”
“We’ll see,” Logan said ominously.
Snow fell over Invertary, and Agnes stopped to stare. It must have started sometime during the night because already a light covering lay on the hills beyond the loch. The whole scene looked like something straight off a Christmas card. The sky was painting everything new.
“You must be cold.” Logan shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Strangely, for the first time in a very long time, she wasn’t cold. Settling into the passenger seat, she snuggled down in Logan’s jacket, feeling his warmth and breathing his scent.
She was asleep by the time they’d turned into the road.
With Agnes showered and tucked into his bed, Logan went downstairs to deal with his kids. As meltdowns went, getting drunk with Betty McLeod was pretty unique, and entertaining to boot. But not as spectacular as watching her handle Dougal while dressed in yesterday’s crumpled clothes, with half a cake in her hair, and wearing sunglasses. He grinned. He should have filmed it.
“Is Agnes staying here forever now?” Darcy asked as soon as he walked into the room.
“I don’t know what she’s doing.” He doubted she even knew what she was doing.
Drew took off his headphones, obviously worried he’d miss something important. “You want her to stay, don’t you, Dad?” he asked quietly.
Logan thought about fobbing him off with a non-answer, but that wasn’t how he did things, even if it meant letting his kids see his vulnerabilities. “Aye, son, I do.”
“Have you told her?” Drew toyed with the wires from his headphones as Darcy soaked up every word.
“No, and I won’t.”
“But, if you ask her to stay, she might change her mind and do it,” Darcy said.
“That’s true, but if I ask her, I’ll never know if it was her choice, or if I influenced her to do it. I want her here, but only if that’s what she wants too.” He reached for the coffee pot and a mug. “Sometimes, people don’t stay, no matter how much you want them to. And, in that case, it’s better to let them go.”
“Like Mum,” Drew said.
“Aye, like your mum.”
“So, what do we do?” Darcy asked.
“We play it by ear. One day at a time and see where it leads.” But Logan had to be honest with himself too. Agnes had made it plain from day one that she planne
d to leave. Whether that was to go to another hotel or something new for her, it didn’t change her desire to get out of Scotland.
“I want to know what’s going to happen now,” Darcy said.
“Me too, kid, me too. Now, who wants pancakes before we go to the market?”
“We can’t leave without Agnes, Dad,” his soft-hearted girl said. “She’s never been to the Christmas market, and we should be the ones to take her.”
“I suppose we could go later,” he said. “After she’s had some time to rest.” And get over her blinder of a hangover.
“It’s better in the dark anyway,” Darcy said. “I like the lights. And we can play in the snow while it’s still light.”
“Playing in the snow is for little kids,” Drew said.
“You’re just mad because your day out with Zoe was canceled.”
“Not Zoe. Zander and Harris.”
“How about we try to get through breakfast without an argument?” Logan reached for the pancake mix.
The back door opened and his mother came in, shaking the snow off her hair. “What’s this I hear about Agnes quitting?”
The Invertary grapevine mystified Logan. People heard rumors about things that happened when no one was around to witness them. His mother hung up her coat and took the pancake mix from his hands. Logan promptly took it back.
“I make better pancakes,” she said with a frown.
“Then go make them in your kitchen.” There were some drawbacks to having your parents living next door. A lack of personal space was one of them.
“Well,” his mum said as she helped herself to coffee. “Is it true?”
“Aye.”
“How did Dougal take it?”
“Silently. For him. Agnes didn’t really give him a chance to say anything.”
“What’s she going to do for work now? We need to find her a good job in Invertary, so she won’t be tempted to leave. We need her here. Margaret has her positioned to become the leader of Knit or Die when she pops her clogs.”
“How exactly would that work? She doesn’t knit, and she didn’t want to join the group in the first place. And don’t give me that rubbish about knitting choosing you.”
“Basically, we plan to wear her down until she agrees she belongs here.”
That sounded more like it. “Before you start job hunting for Agnes, bear in mind that she might like a say in what work she does. Then there’s the matter of whether she even wants to stay in town. She really dislikes Scotland.”
“I don’t think it’s Scotland she doesn’t like so much as the memories it holds. She belongs here. That lassie fits into Invertary more than anyone who’s turned up in the past twenty years. We all feel it, and I don’t understand why she can’t see it herself.”
Logan didn’t like the look on his mum’s face. “Don’t interfere,” he told her. “Agnes has to make up her own mind about what she wants.”
“And how will she know what her options are if we don’t show her?”
Logan shook his head. There was no talking to his mother when she was in this mood. All he could do was remind himself that Agnes could stand up for herself. “After breakfast, I’m going to make a run to the hotel and clear out Agnes’ room. I offered to do it so she wouldn’t have to answer any questions from the staff until she’s feeling up to it. Plus, Dougal could probably use the room this weekend.”
“While you’re there, give that idiot a kick from me,” his mother said.
And his kids grinned at him.
Agnes stood up from the step she’d been sitting on. Her legs shook and her head throbbed, which is why she’d been on her way downstairs to ask Logan if he had some aspirin. As soon as she’d heard her name, she sat down to listen. She didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping, or that she was doing it by accident. Nope, she’d wanted to hear what Logan and his family had to say about her.
The last thing she’d expected was that they wanted her to stay.
A tight sensation wrapped around her heart as she climbed the stairs to Logan’s bedroom. Outside of her sisters, had anyone ever wanted to keep her around? And why would Shona think she belonged in Invertary? It was almost insulting—the town seemed filled with people who danced to their own special beats. Oh. That was why.
She crossed the room to look out the window. Snow fell thick and fast now, covering the town in a veil of white lace. Watching it from Logan’s warm bedroom, she could appreciate the beauty without aching from the cold. There was something magical about having the world whitewashed around her. Everything looked clean and new—for a little while anyway.
Taking a seat on the bed, Agnes pulled out her phone and dialed Isobel. Her sister’s smiling face made Agnes want to cry.
“Are you sick?” Isobel said as soon as she saw her.
“Hungover. And you’ll never guess who I got drunk with. Betty!”
There was stunned silence. “No…You’re right. I would never have guessed. Are you sure you should have been doing that? Betty tends to get people in trouble.”
“Don’t you worry. I can find my own trouble without any help.” She took a deep breath. “I quit my job, Isobel. Tell Callum I’m sorry, will you? I know he pulled strings to get it for me.”
“Callum won’t care that you quit.” Isobel waved a dismissive hand. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to work in a hotel.”
“Do you want to come to London? You’re bound to find something you like here.”
“No.” Agnes started to shake her head, but pain made her stop. “I don’t want to come to London—instead, I want you guys to come here. Can you come for Christmas, Isobel? I miss you all so much.”
Her sister didn’t hesitate. “Of course we’ll come. Do you want me to call Donna and Mairi?”
“Yeah, I need to lie down for a bit.”
“Okay.” Isobel hesitated. “There’s just one thing. Will you still be there at Christmas?”
Agnes started to say that Christmas was only three weeks away and she might as well stay put until it was over, but she stopped herself because that wasn’t exactly the truth. Not anymore. And that meant, really, there was only one answer she could give. “Aye, I’ll be here.”
Chapter 22
The Christmas market was in full swing by the time Agnes felt well enough to go. Although barely teatime, the sky was already black—apart from the thick, white snowflakes that continued to fall silently and gather beneath their feet.
Shona had loaned Agnes a pair of padded snow boots, which kept her toes nice and toasty. And under her padded coat, she had on more layers than an onion. She could hardly move, but she was warm. To top off her look, Darcy had insisted on her wearing her fluffy pink earmuffs under her woolly hat. Nothing would have made Agnes disappoint the girl, so she wore the earmuffs, and every time Logan looked at her, he grinned.
“Nice muffs,” he said, for the tenth time.
“That joke never grows old,” she drawled.
“Hey, Logan,” an older woman called out as she passed, “nice bum.”
Agnes burst out laughing. It served him right.
“I’m getting the Benson Security tech people to scour the internet and take down those photos,” Logan said.
“You love it.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Admit it.”
“Aye, I love having my arse hanging out for the world to perv at.”
“Knew it,” Agnes said.
“Want some hot chocolate?” Logan asked, and she nodded.
As he headed over to a stall selling drinks, Agnes watched the market play out around her. Two rows of stalls, one on each side of the road, sold everything from handmade candles to elaborate cat scratching posts. There were paintings and secondhand books, beautifully turned wooden bowls and odd papier-mâché sculptures, knitted jumpers and quilted blankets. It was a celebration of the Highlands craft makers, and it was wonderful.
“Do you want to tr
y some tablet?” a young woman asked Agnes as she held out a tray of Scotland’s favorite candy.
“Absolutely.” It melted in her mouth, making her groan.
With a knowing smile, the woman moved on, and Agnes wandered over to a stall selling handmade covers for e-books and laptops.
“These are lovely.” Agnes ran her fingers over a beautifully detailed embroidered design.
“Thanks,” the woman said. “I mostly sell them online. You can take a card if you like. I make them to order.”
“You do?” As Agnes picked up the card and stuffed it in her pocket, a kernel of an idea she’d had for a while took root in the back of her mind.
“Here you go,” Logan said as he came up to her. “I got you a sausage roll as well because we don’t want hangry Agnes coming out and decimating the market.”
“Funny.” But she ate the sausage roll and, as they strolled down the high street, she filled her pockets with yet more business cards.
“Look what I got.” Darcy bounced up to them. “I got a spinning top and a cool bag.”
“Very cool,” Logan and Agnes agreed.
“Where’s your brother?” Logan said.
“He’s flirting with Zoe.” She pointed up the street and, sure enough, there was Drew hanging out with a cute young girl. “I’m going to talk to them.” And Darcy ran off.
“Don’t embarrass your brother,” Logan called after her.
“You’re wasting your time,” Agnes told him. “Siblings live for these opportunities.”
With caution and nerves dancing in her stomach, Agnes reached out to take Logan’s hand. Thankfully, he didn’t make a big deal out of it. He just gave her a smile and kept on walking.
“Nice bum,” someone called to Logan as they passed, making Agnes laugh.
Logan felt ten feet tall walking hand in hand with Agnes. He wanted to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side, but he was aware that his Agnes was cautious—unless she was drunk. Then, she was all about letting her emotions loose.
He wondered if she remembered what song she’d sung to him, and what she’d said after it. How she’d told him she was already falling in love with him, and how it scared the pants off her—her exact words. Glancing down at her as he held her hand tight, it seemed impossible to imagine what he’d do if she kept to her decision to leave. He suspected that getting over Agnes would take a whole lot longer than it’d taken to get over Danielle. Mainly because Danielle had been the love of his youth, and they’d outgrown each other, but Agnes was the choice of the man. And he knew he’d never grow so much that he’d leave her behind.
Can't Buy Me Love: Romantic Comedy (Sinclair Sisters Trilogy Book 3) Page 18
