Page 18 of A Colourful Country Escape
‘Why doesn’t he just stay single and buy the business himself, if that’s all he wants from life?’ Perhaps money addled the brain.
‘Neither of us has any real money unless Mother waves her magic wand. She owns the house and Carrington Paints. Ben never takes much of a salary, because why bother if you’re an antisocial workaholic? Mum will probably shove some feel-sorry-for-the-drifter money my way if she gives Ben the business. But, really, I couldn’t care less about cash. I’m happy with my surfboard and the camper.’
Cory looked off into the distance with a quiet smile, as though imagining some far-off wave. ‘But Ben. Ben’s different. Ben needs this.’ He held his arms upwards, as though signifying the whole of Nutgrass Hall. ‘He’s a home bird. He’s lost enough without Dad, let alone snatching him away from Dad’s sacred office and their joint venture. And I’d actually just like to see my bro happy, you know? Laughing once in a while. Less narky. So I hope the right woman does appear.’
Was that a tiny twinge of sympathy tugging at Lexie’s heart? Maybe it was her instinct to support a lost cause. Ben, the dark-suited emperor penguin, facing extinction. She tried not to giggle.
Well, she just hoped she could steer clear of this parade of wealthy women. A memory flashed up and made her wince. Her so-called boyfriend’s mother lording it among the diamonds rings, gawping at her like she was their cleaner. This was exactly the kind of thing she’d just escaped from.
Lexie shivered and downed her cup of scaredy-cat tea. But before she could get lost in her downward spiral of thoughts, she heard footsteps marching down the hallway. All eyes swivelled towards the door. Even the worm cocked its head. Or was that its tail?
Ben burst through in a cloud of urgency, scowling at his watch and pulling his waistcoat like a white rabbit who was late for a very unwelcome date. He looked at Lexie like she was an inconvenient toilet stop on his important journey.
‘Are you ready?’
‘We were just explaining to Lexie about Mum’s matchmaking thing,’ said Cory, apparently unfazed by his brother’s extreme business mode. ‘So she doesn’t wonder what the hell’s going on. And don’t worry, she knows not to interfere.’
Ben held up his hand like an official stopping traffic. ‘It’s a shame you don’t. Miss Summers, I’ll meet you at the car.’
Ben glared at his brother and retreated from the group with even more strident steps. Great, now he was in a worse mood than before, if that was even possible.
Cory rolled his eyes.
The kitchen door slammed and Lexie jumped to her feet, worried she would miss her ride. She let out a tense puff of air, grabbed the flamingo raincoat she’d found to replace her duckling one, and steeled herself for a stormy first morning at Carrington Paints.
Friendly, but not too friendly, she reminded herself. Collect stories, but not the wrong kind of stories. And don’t scupper anyone’s matrimonial plans …
What on earth was she getting herself into?
Chapter 10
‘You keep your filthy hands off her. You’re nothing but trouble!’
Lexie snatched her own hand back from the kitchen door, uncertain whether to enter. She was sure that was Mrs Moon’s raised voice inside. Should she back away? But she was going to be late for her first end-of-week meeting with Ben, and she only needed a few bits. Lexie cleared her throat and gave a loud knock.
She heard scurrying from within, followed by some clattering.
‘Come iiiiiinnn!’
Lexie entered gingerly. What the hell had been going on in there? But she saw nothing, other than a slightly red-faced Mrs Moon rearranging her bonnet.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Just tidying up, dear, don’t mind me!’ She checked her watch. ‘Goodness, look at the time. Mr Moon will wonder where I’ve got to!’
Lexie’s brow furrowed. She still hadn’t seen this fabled Mr Moon – he really must be a hermit. But, like most things in this place, it was best not to ask too many questions. Heroddsensors were on overdrive, though she was kind of getting used to it.
Lexie clanged in cupboards, looking for some half-decent crockery. Her first week working for Ben had been pretty intense. Everyone at the paint factory had been welcoming, but she could see she’d need to insist on a lot of changes if they were to bring Carrington Paints up to date. And tonight was the night she’d have to break all that to Ben.
‘Here we go!’ Lexie pulled out some plates. She just hoped the night wouldn’t end in Ben smashing them over her head.
Because the business branding was like something from the dark ages and their marketing probably still involved carrier pigeons, there was no point in Lexie fixing the company’s online mojo if none of it tied in with what was happening on the ground. Their messaging needed to be consistent; she would have to go deep. Stuck-in-his-ways Ben was going tohate it. And, of course, her. If he didn’t already.
Strangely, the factory staff all seemed to look up to Ben. Perhaps she was missing something, but she wasn’t sure what. He was still as cold as an icicle with her. She was hoping to thaw him with a cheap Thai meal she’d grabbed from a takeaway in town with her first pay cheque. At least he’d agreed to pay her weekly, otherwise she’d have been eating dust until the end of the month. Maybe that was a sign he wasn’t the devil.
‘Having your meeting in the house somewhere, lovey?’ Mrs Moon asked.
‘Nope.’ Lexie gave her a cheeky grin. ‘This is my Friday night and if I have to bloody work, I’m not standing on ceremony in his wood-panelled man cave.’ Or his mum’s stuffy beige house. ‘We’re holding the meeting in Penny.’
