“So, you don’t want to drug him.” Mairi drummed her fingernails on her chin. “What about propositioning him? You could tell him you want to have a sex-filled weekend away.”
Donna almost choked on her tea. “You want me to have sex with my boss to keep him busy?”
“She’s not having sex with Duncan,” Agnes said.
“Not right now, but she could do it.” Mairi was undeterred. “Really, would it be so bad? He’s hot, if you can get past the whole mountain-man thing he’s got going on. And she obviously has a thing for him.”
“I do not!” Donna blustered, but she could feel her face turn red.
“Do too,” Mairi said.
“Kids!” Agnes shouted, and her sisters turned their frowns on her. “She can’t solve her problem with sex.”
“I don’t see why not. I solve most of mine with sex. Keir doesn’t want me to overspend doing up the house—we have sex—I get to spend what I like. Keir doesn’t want to visit Hong Kong on our trip—we have sex—we’re going to Hong Kong. You shouldn’t mess with something that has a proven track record.”
“Your attitude sets women’s rights back about a hundred years,” Agnes lobbed the packet of milk chocolate Hobnobs at her. “Have a biscuit and stop talking. You aren’t helping.”
“I’m not sleeping with my boss,” Donna said when she could get a word in. “The Women’s Institute might be raising money for a good cause, but I’m not willing to offer my body up for it.” Especially not when she knew it would be rejected. Apart from the fact Duncan was still in love with his wife, she’d seen photos of Fiona, and there was no way she could compete with that. Fiona had been tall and slender, with long black hair and violet eyes. She was Arwen the elf and Donna was a hobbit.
“I think it would solve your problem,” Mairi said.
“And I think you are both deeply disturbed,” Donna told them. “Do either of you have any ideas that don’t involve something illegal, immoral or just plain pimping out your sister for the cause?”
There was silence.
“Thanks!” She threw up her hands in disgust. “Give me the biscuits. I need chocolate to think. And once I’ve eaten my way through the packet, I’m calling Isobel to see what she can come up with.”
Mairi threw the biscuits at her. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe she can get Callum’s business to kidnap Duncan for the weekend. They do stuff like that, right?”
“Wrong.” Agnes gave her a look that said she worried about her sanity. “He runs a security company. They hire out bodyguards, run background checks on people, install security systems. They don’t kidnap people.”
“Oh, well, that’s disappointing.” Mairi slumped back into her chair.
“Can’t you get a gallery to call him up and ask him to show his work that weekend? Wouldn’t he leave town for that?” Agnes said.
Donna sat up straight. “Aggie, I think you might be a genius.”
“I’ve been telling you idiots that for years.”
Donna ignored her. “A gallery wouldn’t work, but his old art school might. The dean of Fine Arts has been hassling him for almost a year to take a turn as a guest lecturer. All I need to do is get her to ask again, then convince him to take her up on it.” Okay, that didn’t sound so easy when she said it out loud.
“So, you’re going to call this art school woman up and say, ‘can you invite Duncan to come in two weeks’ time and don’t take no for an answer’?” Agnes arched an eyebrow that said eloquently what she thought of that plan.
“Or”—Mairi pulled her laptop towards her with a grin—“we could hack the art college system and have someone impersonate this art school dean. That way, she’d say exactly what we want her to say.”
Agnes wasn’t impressed. “And what happens when Duncan turns up, and the dean had no idea he was coming?”
Mairi shrugged. “We hack the other direction too. Send an email to the art school from Duncan offering to lecture that weekend. Get it? We pretend to be the dean for Duncan and pretend to be Duncan for the dean.”
“We don’t need to hack Duncan,” Donna said. “I have access to his email accounts. We only need to hack the dean.”
“He lets you answer his personal email?” Agnes said.
“He doesn’t get personal email. The man is an island, and it isn’t Ibiza.”
Agnes pinched the bridge of her nose. “I see a problem with this plan. None of us knows how to hack anything.”
“Ah, but we know someone who does.” Mairi reached for her phone. “And he owes me big time.”