Can't Buy Me Love: Romantic Comedy (Sinclair Sisters Trilogy Book 3)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “You know that weird building behind the main street?” Agnes asked.

  “You’ll have to be more specific. This is Invertary—weird is a common descriptor here.”

  “The one that looks like lots of hexagons shoved together.”

  “Oh, the experimental school. Aye, that didn’t last long. As far as I remember, it was the government doing what it usually does and trying out new ideas in the Highlands before inflicting them on the rest of the country. They called it pod schooling. Lots of little rooms with different subjects going on in them and the kids were free to float between them. Kind of like pick ’n’ mix education. All it meant was that no one monitored the kids because the teachers weren’t sure where they were supposed to be. So the kids spent most of their time hanging out and playing on their phones. Like I said, it didn’t last long.”

  “What’s the building used for now?”

  “Nothing. There was talk a few years ago about turning it into an old folks’ home, but the old folk didn’t want to be dumped in there either. Why are you asking about it?”

  Agnes shrugged. “It’s just a weird building, even by Invertary standards.” She grinned at him. “Not as weird as the folly, but close.”

  “Agnes,” a distinctive voice shouted as they neared the hotel. “Agnes, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Agnes tensed and took a step closer to him as Dougal approached, looking more flustered than usual.

  “Agnes, you have to come back. I need you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Agnes said. “That’s the busy weekend talking. Let’s face it, Dougal, you didn’t want me there any more than I wanted to be there.”

  “That’s not true—” Dougal started.

  But Agnes held up a hand. “At least be honest with yourself. It might have seemed like a good idea to have a manager to free you up to do other things, but you hated every minute of it.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Okay, that’s true. But I’m drowning right now. Would you at least consider coming back to work until I return from Spain?”

  Agnes tugged on Logan’s hand. “What do you think?”

  “It’s up to you.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip for a minute before looking up at him. “I know we haven’t talked about this, but I don’t want to move back into the hotel. Can I stay with you for a while?”

  His stupid heart lurched in his chest. “Course you can,” was all he said.

  She turned to Dougal. “In that case, I’ll help out until you return from Spain, but I’m not looking after your dog.”

  “But—” Dougal said.

  “No.” Agnes was firm. “Get Mrs. Edwards to watch him. She’ll love it.”

  “But that means I’ll have to talk to her,” Dougal grumbled.

  “I don’t care what you do with the dog,” Agnes said. “Just so long as you don’t think you’re foisting it off on me.”

  “Fine. Can you start now?”

  She let out a huff. “I’m on a date, Dougal.”

  “You are?” Logan asked.

  “Am I or am I not holding your damn hand?” Agnes held up their hands to make her point.

  “And that means date?”

  “Yes.” She tapped her toe in the snow, which was a sure sign he should let things go.

  But he didn’t. “Well, if it’s a date, there should be kissing.” And with that, he spun her into his arms and proceeded to match action to words.

  “I’ll be in the pub,” Dougal said as they kept kissing. “Come on in when you’re ready. Aye, I’ll just go then. Bye for now.” And at last, he stopped talking.

  Logan didn’t check to see if he’d gone, he just kept on kissing Agnes. Astonished that she was allowing it to happen in full view of all of Invertary. Slowly, reluctantly, they broke apart—to a round of applause.

  That’s when he spotted Darcy, standing wide-eyed beside them. “Does this mean you’re his girlfriend?” she asked Agnes.

  Agnes didn’t want to be back in the hotel and pub. She wanted to be in Logan’s house with him and his kids. Drew had mentioned a movie that sounded good—they’d planned on watching it together. And Logan had promised they could make a snowman. It would have been the perfect evening.

  But instead, she was in the pub, supervising the karaoke night and experiencing a weird sense of déjà vu. Her memories of the night before were foggy at best. She knew she’d sung, but that was about as far as it went. At some point, she’d have to ask Logan exactly how much of a fool she’d made of herself.

  In the meantime, she had work to do and people to talk to. People she wanted to talk to for a change, and they were all sitting in their usual booth.

  Weaving through the crowded room, she headed straight for the table with Kirsty, Lake, Josh, Caroline, Mitch, and Jodie.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, yourself,” Kirsty, Lake’s wife, said. “I heard you quit.”

  “I did. I’m only filling in until Dougal gets back from Spain.”

  “Ah, the Reverend Morrison quest,” Josh said. “And like most quests, it will be fruitless and pointless.”

  “Stop it,” Caroline demanded, but she smiled at her husband while she did it. “He’s only trying to help the town.”

  And there was her opening. “That’s why I came over here. I have a few ideas on how we can regenerate the town, and I need backing. I hear you lot—and Flynn Boyle, who I haven’t met yet—are where the money is at.”

  “I like you,” Jodie said. “You just come right out and say what you mean.”

  “Usually,” Agnes said. “Not recently, but I’m getting back to the old me.”

  “Do you have a business plan?” Mitch said.

  “Nope, I have ideas and absolutely no money to turn them into reality.”

  They shared a look that didn’t bode well for her, while in the background someone murdered ‘Last Christmas’ to a booing crowd.

  “I don’t think we—” Caroline started, but Agnes interrupted.

  “I get it. I’ve only been here three weeks, and suddenly I’m an expert on what Invertary needs to survive. You see a stranger standing in front of you, asking for money for some cockamamie scheme she’s cooked up. For all you know, I’m one of those weirdos who think rich people owe them money just for being alive.”

  They shared another round of looks and shifted uncomfortably in their seats. All except Lake.

  Agnes spoke to him. “You know me and my family—you probably even know things about my family that I don’t. Just give me five minutes to pitch my idea, and then I’ll go. No obligation or bad feelings on either side.” She glanced over at the crowd, happy and singing along to the music now that the last singer was gone. “I’m trying to stay here.” She looked back at them. “I’m trying to stay when my instinct is to run, but I think I could maybe fit in here and, to do that, I need a place. A spot where I can work. And it isn’t this hotel. Not unless you want Dougal drowned in the loch at some point.”

  “These ideas are really to help the town?” Caroline asked, reminding Agnes that she was a member of the town’s council.

  “Yeah,” Agnes said. “But I can’t guarantee it.”

  Lake wrapped an arm around his redheaded wife and pulled her into his side. “You can have my five minutes, but I can’t speak for the rest of the group.”

  A little spark of hope ignited within her.

  And was snuffed out by a voice that boomed across the room. “Agnes, I need you for a minute.”

  Swallowing her groan of frustration, she smiled at them. “Thanks for your time, guys, but duty calls. Lake, I’ll take you up on that five minutes another day.” After she’d tracked down the mysterious Flynn Boyle to see if he was willing to open his pockets or not.

  Mitch leaned forward. “When you’re done with whatever Dougal needs, come back. You’ve got your five minutes to pitch to all of us.”

  She looked at their faces, but they were all smiling at her, so it seemed Mitch spoke for ev
eryone.

  “I’ll try,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Rushing through the crowded bar, she spotted a familiar figure climbing up onto the stage to a round of groans—Betty. Agnes tripped over her feet as she reached Dougal. “I thought you would have banned her,” she said to him.

  “And then where would she go? This is Invertary, not Glasgow. It’s not as though she has a selection of places to socialize in. As much as she’s able.” He frowned in Betty’s direction as she started to belt out Shirley Bassey’s ‘Hey Big Spender.’ She sounded like she was in pain. Oh, dear heavens, it came with dance moves. “I will make her pay for the whisky, though,” Dougal said. “Now, can you run up to Mr. Thompson’s room with some toilet paper?”

  “You have got to be kidding me!” She glared at Dougal.

  His face softened. “I’m not messing with you. The man really does need toilet paper, and we’re all run off our feet. You looked like the only one with a minute to spare.”

  “Fine.” She hurried through the hotel and into the storeroom, where she grabbed an industrial-sized pack of sixty toilet rolls before heading to Mr. Thompson’s room.

  When he opened the door, she thrust the pack at him. “This should last you a couple of days,” she said with a smile.

  “Where am I supposed to put that?” he asked as he took the toilet rolls.

  “The same place you’ve been putting the rest of them.” She turned back toward the stairs.

  “That’s not the right attitude for this job,” he called after her.

  “I know,” Agnes answered with a smile.

  The smile was still on her face when she made it back to the bar.

  “What did you do?” Dougal demanded after taking one look at her.

  “Let’s just say, Mr. Thompson shouldn’t be calling for more toilet paper any time soon. Now, I’m going to take a five-minute break, okay?” It was the first break she’d asked for since coming to work for him.

  “Okay, Agnes,” Dougal said gently.

  She nodded, then made her way back to the table. “Is this a good time?” she asked.

  “As good as any,” Mitch said. “Pull up a chair.”

  But there were no chairs to pull up—the room was packed. “It’s okay. I can stand. This won’t take long. So, this is what I have. Right now, we can’t attract businesses to town because there aren’t enough people here to act as a marketplace for them. Also, we’re too far from the main centers to make transporting goods a cost-effective option for any manufacturers that might like to take advantage of our low property prices. And ideas like the conference center will bring money into the town for short periods, but won’t increase local industry in the long term.”

  Plus, she wasn’t even sure people would want to come to Invertary for a conference, especially when the town didn’t have the infrastructure to support them.

  “That’s a good summary of the current state of things,” Caroline said, eyeing Agnes with serious interest. “So what’s your solution?”

  Oh, Agnes liked Caroline. “We need to attract businesses that work local and sell international. Producers who’ll spend locally and invest in the community but won’t rely on it for their income. Which means we need small businesses, most likely crafters, who sell on the internet.”

  They were nodding, and she took that as encouragement, while also being aware the clock was ticking on her time and she really didn’t want to go over it.

  “What I want to do is open a communal business center. The idea would be to rent out space to these small businesses while providing resources that would be too costly for them to justify on their own. Things like a welding room, or a kiln room—things they could rent, instead of forking out money to set up everything themselves. We’d provide the facilities, the business support, and the equipment. And they’d run their businesses online, bringing money and an injection of new talent into town, as well as spreading the word about Invertary internationally. Plus, the hope would be that each business would bring new families into town, growing the schools and providing more customers for local shops.” She smiled. “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  Six pairs of eyes stared at her, and she found it hard to breathe.

  “I think,” Caroline said at last, “that we need you on the town council.”

  “I’ll help with your business plan,” Mitch said. “Come see me Monday, and we’ll bash it out.”

  Josh shrugged. “I’d give you my money.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Jodie said, studying her. “What else have you got?”

  “Quite a bit, actually.” Agnes said. “I grew up poor in a tiny town. I was always looking for ways to make money and noticing gaps where the town could have helped me do it. You could say I’ve been thinking about this my whole life.” She glanced over her shoulder at Dougal, who for once wasn’t frowning at her but smiling. “But right now, I need to work. Thanks for listening. I’ll definitely be in touch about the help with a business plan,” she told Mitch.

  “Monday evening,” Caroline said. “There’s a private council meeting at the castle. Are you free to attend? I think it would be good for everyone to hear your ideas.”

  “Yes,” Agnes said. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  And, with a skip in her step, she headed off to see what else she could do to help Dougal.

  Chapter 23

  Logan opened his front door as soon as he heard Dougal’s car pull up, just past midnight, and leaned on the doorjamb to wait for Agnes. He liked that she hadn’t wanted to leave Dougal in the lurch after he’d said he needed her help, but if the man had upset her again, he was going to kick his arse. Although considering their age gap, that would hardly be a fair fight. He’d get his mother to do it instead.

  To his surprise, she gave Dougal a cheery, if somewhat tired, wave goodbye as she walked away from the car. He cocked his head and studied her. She looked…happy. No, more than that, she looked like a huge weight had been lifted from her and she was floating now. Her smile glowed as she came up the path toward him.

  “Good night?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in out of the cold.

  “The best.” She surprised him again by going on tiptoe and pressing the sweetest kiss to his lips.

  “Have you been drinking?” he teased.

  She shuddered. “Never again.”

  He helped her out of her coat and boots. “I have a surprise for you,” he said against her ear.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you too,” she said as she leaned into him.

  “Mine first.” Logan put his hands on her hips and guided her toward the stairs. “Up you go.”

  “I hope your surprise isn’t of the naked variety, because I’m not doing that with kids in the house. It would be icky.”

  “Icky is not a word I remember you using when it came to sex. I believe it was two words—‘too good’. And, for your information, the kids are sleeping next door tonight.”

  “Are they now?” She stopped on the step above him and turned to drape her arms over his shoulders. “That’s a bit presumptuous.”

  “Not presumptuous. Optimistic.” His hands rested on the full curve of her hips.

  “I do like optimism in a man.”

  “I hope that isn’t all you like.”

  “What else do you have to offer?” Agnes closed the distance between them and teased his lips with hers.

  “Go upstairs, and you’ll find out,” he murmured against her mouth, before turning her and gently prodding her to keep climbing.

  “You ruin all my fun,” she complained as she put some extra sway into her hips.

  He followed her into his bedroom and through to the en suite he’d added when he bought the house. His parents thought it an extravagance, but then, they weren’t sharing a bathroom with two teens.

  “Oh,” she gasped as she halted in the doorway.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into him as he waited for her reaction. He’d be the first to ad
mit his surprise wasn’t the most original, but if an idea worked well enough to become a romance standard, Logan wasn’t about to dismiss it.

  The bathroom was full of the candles he’d stocked up on at the Christmas market, much to the delight of the woman who ran the stall. He’d chosen a variety of shapes and sizes and a myriad of fragrances, hoping it wouldn’t all blend together and fill his bathroom with a toxic cloud. To his relief, the smell was heady but pleasant.

  Candles burned on every surface, their light reflecting off the large mirror over the sink. In the corner of the room, his old clawfoot tub was filled with girly bubbles, and on a stool beside it sat a thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of shortbread.

  Her smile was teasing when she looked up at him. “No champagne and strawberries?”

  “This is winter in Scotland.”

  “You are such a wise man.” Her attention drifted back to the room. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say it was only a bath, but it wasn’t. It was him showing her that he thought of her even when she was out of his sight.

  “You’d better get in before it gets cold,” he said roughly.

  Agnes turned and reached up to cup his cheek. “Thank you.”

  The warmth in her eyes burned a hole straight through to his heart.

  “Anytime, Agnes, love.” He kissed her forehead. “Now strip.”

  Without hesitation, she pulled off her jumper and tossed it at him before reaching for the snap of her jeans. For a second, he could only stand there, drinking in the sight of Agnes in a black lace bra.