“Well, if you wear the sweatshirt and nothing else, there could be a lot in it for you.”
She would have said something about him being awfully sure of himself, but he’d already proven he could put his money where his mouth was. “Throw in some chocolate, and it’s a deal.”
His eyes darkened. “You’ve got it. See you tomorrow, Agnes, love.” And then he turned and sauntered off.
“Agnes,” Dougal called. “Can I have a word?”
She tore her gaze from Logan’s backside and went over to the bar where Dougal was holding court. “What can I do for you?”
“We had a council meeting the other night, where Betty held us hostage with a list of demands she says we need to meet before she’ll consider selling any of her properties to us. The upshot of it is that I need to go to Spain for a couple of days and talk the old reverend into coming back here for a visit.”
Agnes blinked at him. This was obviously another example of the ways in which they did things differently here in Invertary. “Can’t you just call him?”
“I tried, but he told me he’d come back to Invertary in a casket, and not before.”
So that was a firm no. “Why do you need him here?”
“Betty says she won’t consider any offers on her properties unless Reverend Morrison stands in front of everyone and admits to having an affair with her.”
“I can see why he’d rather die first.”
“Aye,” Dougal said in disgust. “Anyway, the only flight available at short notice was this Monday, so I’ll need you to look after everything while I’m gone.”
“Dougal, that’s why you hired me—to look after things when you aren’t here. I can take care of the hotel and restaurant, and your bar manager can take care of the pub. You could disappear for weeks, and we’d be fine.”
“Disappear? Leave the pub?” His voice was so loud it made the glasses shake.
Yeah, she shouldn’t have brought that topic up. “I will definitely take care of things while you’re gone. Don’t worry about it.”
But there was no distracting him. “What would I do if I wasn’t here?”
“Play golf? Fish? Take up knitting? Whatever other people do when they retire.”
“Retire?” The whole building shook this time, and Dougal looked like he might be having a heart attack. His face had turned a deep shade of red, and the vein in his neck throbbed. If she didn’t put a stop to this soon, Agnes could see herself doing mouth-to-mouth on Santa.
“I’m joking.” She forced a grin. “I don’t believe in retirement. You enjoy being here, so why would you want to change that? And the community would miss you if you were gone.”
“Aye, aye, you’re right.” The color faded from his face, but he still seemed uncertain. “I can see you’re trying to be less intimidating and a bit more informal, but you might want to check your jokes are actually funny before you try them on people.”
“Thanks.” Agnes nodded solemnly. “I’ll take that advice on board. Was that all?”
“There’s one more thing—I need you to look after Arnold while I’m gone.”
Oh, hell no. “I’m not really a dog person,” she told her boss. “I’ve never had one, and I don’t know how to look after them.”
“Don’t be daft.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll be fine, and you can always ask Mrs. Edwards for help if you get stuck.”
There was obviously no getting out of it. “Fine,” she said with all the graciousness of a teenager.
Dougal gave her a royal nod as though she’d done nothing more than her duty. “Thanks, Agnes. Now, if only getting the Reverend Morrison here was as easy as dealing with you.”
And Agnes tried very hard not to imagine her boss’s head exploding all over his precious pub.
Chapter 20
Officially, Agnes finished work around five, like most people. Unofficially, she was never off the clock. Living in the hotel until she found other accommodation didn’t help—it only made her feel like she always had to be working. The fact that Dougal had his eye on her every minute of the day only added to the stress.
And that was why, instead of taking her time off on Friday night, she found herself in the bar, helping supervise the evening’s entertainment. Her feet hurt, her eyes felt like they’d been rolled in sand, and Dougal didn’t find her sweatshirt funny. She looked down at it. The man had no sense of humor at all.