Yep, she bet that stuck in his throat. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m in the middle of something.”
“The customer comes first,” Dougal barked.
“I understand, but I’m really tied up.”
There was silence for a second before his voice lowered. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be alone with her.”
Agnes fought a grin. “Don’t worry about that. She’s got a room full of teenagers helping stuff goody bags.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, in that case, carry on.”
“Thanks, Dougal.” She hung up.
When she turned to the deliverymen, they were waiting with a trolley loaded with boxes.
“If Dougal shouts at us,” the driver said, “we’re pointing at you.”
“And they say chivalry is dead.” She walked down the street to the pub doors. They were on the corner of the high street and in full view of everyone out shopping. Once there, she propped the doors open for the men to go through. “Be careful with those boxes,” she called after them, far louder than necessary. “That’s our new toiletry range for the hotel. It’s top of the line—people pay a fortune for this stuff. We’re lucky to have gotten it.”
“If you’re changing out the toiletries to something better,” Breanna asked, as soon as Agnes stepped into the dining area of the pub, “is that only for new guests, or will we get it too? I wouldn’t mind trying that range.”
Agnes beamed at her. “I’ll make sure they stock your room.”
As she watched the deliverymen make their way through the bar, she was pleased to see heads turning to follow their progress and people reading the brand name on the boxes. She could tick part one of her plan off her list. She was grinning when her eyes caught on the last person she wanted to see there—Logan. Just her luck.
“She’s up to something,” Logan told Lake, who sat opposite him in a booth at the side of the pub, not far from where Agnes was grinning a little maniacally after the deliverymen.
Lake glanced over at Agnes and nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Just take all the new toiletries up to the store cupboard,” Agnes called, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “We won’t start putting them out until tomorrow.”
The deliverymen grumbled something but headed for the stairs up into the hotel.
“Why is she making them go through the pub?” Logan said, more to himself than anyone else. “Deliveries would usually go through the back door.”
Louise, who worked in the town’s tiny supermarket, stopped beside Agnes. “I can’t believe you have the Orion range of toiletries,” she squealed. “That stuff is so hard to come by. I couldn’t even order the shampoo off their site the other day because it was out of stock.” She stared wistfully after the deliverymen. “I don’t suppose you’d sell me a couple of bottles?”
“Sorry.” Agnes shook her head. “But if you book a room after tomorrow, you’ll be able to use the range as part of your guest experience.”
“I wish,” Louise said with a laugh. “I’d love a night away from the kids. If you change your mind about selling them, let me know.”
“Absolutely.” Agnes beamed. It was over the top.
“She’s still talking too loud,” Logan said. “And why is she making such a big deal out of shampoo?” He groaned as it hit him. “I’m an idiot.” His brain had been so occupied with wondering about what’d happened between them in the office and why things had suddenly turned cold that he’d missed the obvious. “She’s baiting a trap, and she’s not being subtle about it.”
“Nope,” Lake said. “That’ll be why she had the lorry park in the street.” He cocked a thumb to the window, where the rear of a huge truck blocked their view.
He’d been so focused on Agnes that he’d missed the truck. If Dougal saw that there, he’d have a conniption. Logan glanced around, realizing Agnes had managed to get rid of the hotel owne
r. She’d staged the whole thing, and he’d missed most of it because he’d been too busy worrying about their weird conversation. Some detective he was turning into.
“She’s driving me crazy,” Logan confessed. “I’m so busy wondering what’s going on in her head that I’m missing stuff.” It wasn’t an apology, but his boss should definitely know he was falling down on the job.
“Happens to the best of us.” Lake reached for his coffee, his too-observant eyes missing nothing. “You know, Agnes has a habit of taking care of her own problems, even when it can get her in trouble. She isn’t used to relying on anyone else.”
Logan focused in on the man. “What does that mean?”
“Did you read the background report I did on her?” Lake lazed back in the booth, his leather pilot’s jacket at his side, and the sleeves of his blue Henley pushed up past his elbows. He sipped his coffee, looking every inch a man relaxed, but his gaze continually scanned the room on the lookout for trouble.