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her.
Oh, darling. Harry Potter’s mother appeared on the couch beside her. Imaginary fingers drawn in soft, coloured pencil lines attempted to brush back Donna’s hair. Why do you bring these things on yourself?
Donna looked at the image of the gentle, smiling woman that only she could see. “And why couldn’t you have been here earlier when everyone was giving me a hard time?” Harry’s mum would have sorted out Hermione and gently reprimanded Gandalf.
A soft knock at the door made the drawing disappear and Donna squeal. “Wait a minute!”
There was no time, the door opened, and Grace’s head appeared. She took one look at Donna, nodded to herself, then stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “It’s true then, Joyce told me you were in here getting naked with Duncan.”
“Joyce is four hundred years old and wears glasses that are as thick as jam jar bottoms. Do I look naked to you?” She was still clutching her clothes in front of her, and even though they didn’t hide much, anyone could see she still wore underwear.
“You look like you were trying to get naked.” Grace sat on the stool Duncan had vacated.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.”
“What were you doing then?”
“Distracting him.” She gave up trying to hide and swept her hands up to tie her hair back before tugging on her shirt. “I spotted the cavalcade coming up the drive, and it was the only thing I could think of to do. I blame Mairi. She made me watch that movie, Ten Things I Hate About You. The heroine flashes the coach to get her boyfriend out of detention. It worked for Julia Stiles, so it seemed like a good idea. At the time. But it didn’t go quite as I’d planned.”
“Aye, I gathered that by the way Duncan ran for the gym like the English were coming for him.”
Donna pulled on her trousers and plopped back into the sofa. “Who saw me? Apart from Joyce.”
“Everybody. The caterer said to give you his number. And Flora said you waved.”
“I figured it was too late to do anything but brazen it out. Have they gone now?”
“No. They’re measuring up the ballroom for decorations.” She gave Donna a sympathetic look. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” She winced at the lie, and her cheeks burned. “As fine as you can be when you flash yourself to your boss and he runs for it.” It wouldn’t go down in the annals of time as her finest moment.
Grace smiled softly and shook her head. “This can’t go on. You know that, right?”
“I know, but if I can get him to go to Glasgow for that lecture, this will be all over.”
“I’m not talking about that.”
Donna couldn’t look Grace in the eye. She didn’t want to hear what she was talking about, because she suspected she already knew. She reached for her shoes and slipped them back on, hoping her apparent lack of interest would deter Grace.
But it didn’t. “Donna, my girl.” Her voice softened, and Donna’s heart clenched. “You know I’m very fond of you.”
“Don’t.” Donna held up a hand. “I’m okay. Honestly.”
Grace shook her head. “You can’t go on like this. You’ve been mooning over that man for years. It’s the talk of Kintyre.”
Her back snapped straight. “I haven’t been mooning.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “People are talking?”
Grace waved a dismissive hand. “People always talk. But it’s clear that you have feelings for Duncan, and it’s equally evident—”
“That he doesn’t have feelings for me.” Nausea rose as she forced the words out.
“That’s not what I was going to say. I think he’s very fond of you, but I just don’t think he’s capable of moving on from his wife yet.”
“I know. That’s why I don’t have feelings for Duncan. The gossips are wrong. I’ve just been looking out for him, that’s all. Anyone would do the same. He’s so...broken.”
The painting of Fiona caught her eye and she smiled. Each stroke had been painted with such love, and she was glad that Duncan’d had that in his life. By all accounts, Fiona had been a remarkable woman, and they’d been well-suited. No one could ever compete with a bond like that. Not that she wanted to.
“There’s no need to worry,” she said, more to Fiona than Grace. “I don’t have a crush on my boss.”
