The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Lunch, Snack, and Dinner

After their lunch was complete, Guthrie left, and Imogen decisively walked up to the Holyoakes' table. They both seemed to be done with their meal, but unwilling to leave, perhaps too engrossed in a conversation they were leading. Rhys' left arm was on the back of the bench behind Viola, while he held her hand in his right one, playing with her fingers, and occasionally sensually caressing her wrist and knuckles. Imogen was quite sure she didn't want to overhear any of their lines, considering Holyoake would lean to his wife's ear and whisper something, and his lips would brush at her earlobe, while Viola kept throwing him flirty glances from under lowered lashes, and whatever she murmured back to him made him lick his bottom lip. As delightfully plentiful as Imogen's own intimate life turned out, she was endlessly uncomfortable with other people's PDAs. Thankfully, Viola noticed her approach and moved slightly away from her husband.

"I've changed my mind," Imogen blurted out, ripping the plaster in one go, so to say. "I still need to discuss it with–" She gave the doctor a pointed look. "But after that, could we please meet up and... chat?"

"I'll be delighted to," Viola answered warmly. "Please, let me know when you're available. Perhaps, you could stop by for a cup of tea."

Imogen nodded and gave Rhys Holyoake a polite smile. His lips were pursed in a small lopsided smirk, and Imogen could bet he knew exactly what they were talking about. It seemed he was more than OK with his wife's sleuthing pursuits. Imogen needed to ensure the same attitude from the Mayor before she was willing to make any active steps in her investigation.

After saying her goodbyes, Imogen was almost ready to walk away when she saw Rhys run the tips of the fingers of his left hand on the side of Viola's throat, his palm cupping the back of her neck - and a wide band on his fourth finger caught light. It appeared that Viola had done her shopping the day before - and perhaps, some inquiries had been made as well. Imogen desperately needed to get her metaphorical permission slip. Viola's research results needed to be compared against Imogen's theories and Guthrie's detailed email.

***

When she arrived back at the Town Hall, Mrs. Harris informed her the Mayor had been asking for her. Dropping her handbag and her coat on her chair, Imogen smoothed her office skirt, squared her shoulders, and marched into his office. She had her passionate but rational speech prepared, and she was determined to find a compromise that would make both her sleuthing self and the Mayor happy. She didn't even close the door fully, when he scooped her into his arms and snogged her. Imogen gasped - and immediately forgot anything she might have needed to discuss with him.

When he hoisted her up, his large hands heartily groping her backside, Imogen started to suspect that, unlike the previous times when they'd behaved inappropriately in his office, the Mayor wasn't planning to limit himself to a few stolen kisses and maybe a bit of hand-wandering, nothing beyond 12A rating and no more than one button opened on either of them. Once he deposited said backside on his desk, and his hands slid up along her thighs, bunching up her skirt, Imogen felt somewhat baffled by the lack of his self-restraint - but not enough to cease her enthusiastic participation. When he shook off his jacket and forcefully jerked his tie, making the silk hiss when one end slid through the knot, Imogen pressed her hand into his shoulder, panting loudly, and ordered herself to be the responsible one, since the Mayor had clearly lost all sense and self-control.

"John," she rasped out, and then croaked, when he dove down and placed a greedy open-mouthed kiss on her throat. "John, we need to stop... We can't..."

The Mayor's waistcoat joined its mates on the floor, and Imogen knew it was her last chance to speak up. She gathered her will, cupped his jaw, and lifted his face, making him look at her.