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She shook her head. A hot bloke being nice to your dogs does not mean you can fancy him!
Pushing to her feet, she went to James’s desk and sat behind it. She rested her head against the back of his chair, accidentally-on-purpose letting it loll to the side so she could breathe in the scent of him that clung faintly to the fabric.
A light bulb flashed on inside her. Pheromones. That’s all it is! She knew there had to be a logical, rational and scientific explanation for the bizarre attraction she felt for James Hunter-Savage, and this was it! It was simply chemical warfare, designed to manipulate her into ripping his clothes off like a love Berserker, and sexing him to death.
A weight lifted from her shoulders. Now she knew what she was dealing with, she could plan accordingly. Striding back to her desk, she wrote an action plan.
Step one - Break out my BOB every morning before work. And again possibly after work? During the night as well??? USE AS NECESSARY!
Step two - Reactivate online dating profile. ASAP!!!
Step three - Throw myself at Isaac one last time and hope for the best? UNLIKELY TO WORK…
Step four - Remove sense of smell. How? Get a cold? Nasal plugs? GOOGLE LATER.
Step five - Tell JHS to stop using his witchcraft lust potion. DON’T MAKE IT OBVIOUS WHY!!!
Estelle’s conviction in the effectiveness of her action plan waned as she drove away from Shoscombe Manor towards the livery. Suddenly, all she could think of was impressing James by showing off her mounted archery skills that Saturday. She would show him what a sexy and badass woman she was, and he would…
Her mind immediately gave her an image of James pinning her against a wall, his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast, his— ‘Shut up!’ she yelled out loud.
Joy and Chester barked.
‘No, not you! Sorry!’ she said to them as she pulled into the livery. Parking outside her cottage, she let them out of the car to run around, then went inside. It was clear that step one of her action plan needed to be activated immediately. Going to her bedroom, she closed the door, took her Battery-Operated-Boyfriend from the drawer of her bedside table, and flicked the switch on.
Dead.
A bit like my love life. Taking it with her, she went to the kitchen to rummage in an overstuffed drawer and find new batteries.
The doorbell went.
James? She rolled her eyes. Why would it be him? Chucking BOB in the nearest cupboard, she went to answer the door.
Standing on the other side, in tears and surrounded by suitcases, stood Elyse.
‘He kicked me out,’ she sobbed. ‘I didn’t have anywhere else to go!’
Stunned, Estelle stared at her.
‘And yesterday you said I could stay with you.’
‘Er…’
Elyse nodded and took a deep breath. ‘It’s okay, I can find a bed-and-breakfast somewhere.’
‘No! It’s fine! Of course you can stay here. Kick your shoes off over there and come in.’
Estelle helped Elyse bring her suitcases and bags in, then brought her through into the small kitchen.
‘Take a seat. Cup of tea? Brandy?’
Elyse sat, looking like a pale and delicate flower whose petals were wilting.
‘Do you have any chamomile?’
Estelle took a glass jar filled with yellow ochre buds from a cupboard. ‘Biodynamic and hand-picked by my younger sister, Willow, so it’s about as potently hippy as you can get.’
‘Thank you.’
