Can't Buy Me Love (Sinclair Sisters 3)

“Here, have Dougal’s face.” Agnes passed her a napkin.

“The only reason Dougal wants a conference center is to make himself feel important, and so he can hobnob with the big shots.”

“That’s a funny sentence.” Agnes grinned.

“We’d be better off building something fun, like a shooting range. I need to practice with my guns.”

“You have guns?”

“Only stun guns. Lake won’t let me have anything else, but maybe if we had a shooting range, I could talk him into letting me loose in it. Bloody Englishman is holding me back.”

“Men suck.” She thought about it. “Except Logan. I think he might be a good one.”

“Have another drink. You’re still not thinking clearly.” Betty filled her glass and Agnes drank. Damn, that whisky was smooth.

“I miss my sisters,” Agnes said. “There’s nobody to boss around here.”

“It depends who you are. I don’t have any trouble finding people to order around.” Betty’s smile was devilish. “Neither does Dougal. He can boss his manager whenever the need hits him.”

“I hate this job. I want a job in…somewhere hot. I don’t know where. Just a hot place. Not a cold place. I’m fed up being cold.”

“Maybe you just need better central heating?”

They fell into giggles. Well, giggles for Agnes, cackles for Betty.

“I’ve just figured out who you remind me of,” Agnes said, suddenly serious. “An evil Yoda! Same height, same hair, same green pallor. You could be twins!”

“I think you’ve had enough whisky.” Betty confiscated the bottle.

“Did you know there’s a karaoke machine in here?” Agnes said.

“Aye. I’m brilliant on it. Although nobody appreciates my talent.”

“I will. Promise. Come on, let’s go sing.”

They zigzagged their way to the stage, which, for some reason, seemed really far away. Agnes tried to connect the machine to the sound system, but couldn’t figure out how to do it, so they were stuck with only one speaker. It would have to be enough.

“I’m going first,” she told Betty, as she brought up her song. “Wait. I need my phone for this.”

She zigzagged back across the pub to get it and, when she returned, Betty was lying flat on her back on the floor. Agnes nudged her with her toe. “Are you dead?”

“No, I’m resting.”

“Okay, I’m singing first.” She climbed onto the stage, started her song, and dialed Logan.

“Agnes?” He sounded sexy when he’d just woken up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shouted at the phone. “This one’s for you.”

And then she launched into her own unique version of Stevie Wonder’s ‘I Just Called to Say I Love You.’

Chapter 21

Someone had filled the sunlight with shards of glass that speared through Agnes’ eyeballs and into her brain.

“Make it stop,” she wailed. But it came out as a hoarse, whispered croak.

“Good morning,” a cheery male voice said, before Logan’s smiling face appeared in front of her eyes. “Did you have a rough night then?”