Page 12 of Full Mountie

She sets the journal down and waves me in. “No, it’s fine. I may have dozed off there. What’s up?”

“I sent you an email…”

She winced. “I’ve been ignoring the internet today.”

“No worries.” I hold up the purple—lavender—file folder. It makes me think of Beth, and therefore it’s actually my favourite thing about today, complicated shit aside. “I’ve been designated the unofficial wedding coordinator for this end, and I’ve got some quick questions for you.”

“I’m sorry.” She drops her head into her hands. “It’s just that one wedding thing leads to a hundred other wedding things, and suddenly entire days get consumed with the stuff. So we’ve kind of been dodging it.”

“At least you recognize that,” I tease as I fold myself into the wooden chair across from her desk. It’s terribly uncomfortable, and I tell her as much.

She winks. “It keeps student visits short.”

“That’s evil.” I clear my throat and open the file folder. “Now. Your wedding is happening in less than two months, and the menu hasn’t been finalized.” I hand over a piece of paper that I’ve scrawled all over. “I’m not a foodie, exactly, but from the options they suggest, this is what I think would work best for you and your guests.”

She scans down the page, nodding. When she reaches my favourite suggestion, she starts giggling. She glances up at me. “Fanny Bay oysters?”

“It’s important to have food from across the country,” I say with a straight face.

“Oh, Lachlan. You do get us, don’t you?” She gives me a warm look.

“I try.”

She grabs a pen. “My only addition to this would be that I’d like more of the cheese to come from Quebec, s’il vous plait.”

“Consider it done.”

From the university, I head to the protocol office where I unofficially ask some advice from their staff. Their recommendation is for the PM to ask the Ethics Commissioner to review the wedding plans. Oh, he’s going to hate that.

So instead of talking to him about it again, I head to the Ethics Commissioner’s office myself, where I make an appointment to return the next day.

I don’t get back to my office at Parliament until dinner time. The PM has already left for his official residence at 24 Sussex Drive, so I review the day’s reports. Then I call over to the residence and speak to the constable on duty, who confirms the PM and Ellie are in for the night.

“They’ve ordered pizza for dinner,” he adds, and I laugh.

“Of course they did. I could go for some pizza myself. Thanks.” I hang up and rock back in my chair.

From the doorway, someone clears his throat.

I sit up and open my eyes.

Hugh is leaning against the doorframe. “Evening.”

I nod. “Just finished reading the reports. Easy day today.”

He nods too, then glances behind him.

I grit my teeth.

That doesn’t stop him. Once he’s checked that nobody else is around, he goes straight for the kill. “So I went on a date with Beth yesterday.”

“I’m aware. I was there when you whisked her off.”

He glares right back. “And you were there when I returned her safely home again.”

Ah. So he’d seen me. Fine. “You can’t blame me for being worried.”

“Afraid of what I’d do to her?”

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