Goody Two Shoes (Invertary 2)

“We want to work on the wedding,” Hamish said. “You have your namby-pamby English planner coming in, but we want to be wedding planners too. Caroline needs someone looking out for her interests, so that she doesn’t get overlooked in this whole celebrity shindig.”

“Yeah,” Josh drawled. “Because we all know that Caroline has a problem standing up for herself.”

They all laughed.

“Sitting here,” Caroline snapped at them. “Sitting right here and planning to check out the book on poisons we have in the library. Remember that the next time I make you a pot of tea. Also remember that I know where to hide the bodies.”

Josh seemed impressed. The rest of the men paled.

“Caroline Patterson,” Archie said. “Don’t go telling lies. We all know you’re far too moral to break the law. You’d no more murder us than you would steal from the post office.”

“Fine.” Caroline glared at him. “But I have no problem lacing everything you eat and drink with laxatives.”

Josh put up his hands. “There’s no need for that.” He winked at Caroline, making her even madder. “Why the hell would you guys want to plan a wedding?”

/> All four answered as one: “Boredom.”

“And if we don’t get to help, we’ll entertain ourselves with the only other option we have available,” Archie said with calculation in his eyes.

“Aye,” Brian said, “with talking to the press.”

Caroline was gritting her teeth so hard she was sure she’d pulverised a few. “I won’t be blackmailed.”

“Maybe not.” James smirked. “But I bet he will.” He pointed at Josh.

“Sorry, honey,” Josh told her. “The man has a point. We need this kept under the radar more than we need these guys to butt out.”

“One.” Caroline held up a finger. “I am not your baby, honey, sweetheart or darling. Two.” She pointed at each of the men in turn. “You will all be sorry about this. Not one of you knows anything about weddings. What makes you think you can ‘help’?”

“Between us we’ve been married seven times,” Archie said. “Not to mention we know everyone and everything in Invertary. And”—he gave her a smug look—“as you keep telling us, we’re in a library—what we don’t know, there’s bound to be a book on it somewhere.” The four men cackled like Macbeth’s witches. “Let’s face it. You need us. Without us you’d plan something so uptight that no one would have any fun.”

Caroline stood before taking a slow, measured breath. “You have one chance. If you screw up, that’s it. I don’t give a flying fig if you run to the press or not.”

“We’ll make you proud.” Hamish nodded to his friends, and they all made the sign of the boy scout’s promise.

Caroline rolled her eyes in disgust before striding out of the room and into her office.

A few minutes later, the boys were sitting at a table in the library room surrounded by bridal magazines. At least they were occupied and had stopped annoying her. Caroline shut the large windows in her office. There were two: one that faced into the library room and another into the reception area. Normally she liked being able to see everything that went on in the centre. Today it felt a little bit too much like a goldfish bowl. She turned to Josh, who was perched on the edge of her desk. He wore faded jeans, a blue T-shirt with Scooby-Doo on it and a pair of grey Converse. Everything he had on was worn, yet he looked more put together than Caroline did on her best day.

“You’re taking up too much space.” She wanted to push him out of her office into the foyer, but instead she sat behind her desk and scowled at him.

“There’s not a lot I can do about that, baby.”

“Stop calling me baby. Do I look like an infant?”

“Would you prefer ‘sweetheart’?”

“I prefer Caroline.”

Josh sauntered around to sit closer to her. Caroline tried to put some space between them, but the wall blocked her retreat.

“We need to clear up a few things.” Josh’s laid-back attitude irritated her.

“I’m not putting a studio in the castle.” A deal was a deal. She was restoring the place, not converting it into a musician’s playground.

He reached for her hair, making Caroline jerk away from him.

“I need to work.”