Page 72 of The Mad Marchams

“It’s fine by me. The more the merrier.”

Mabel texted back.

That would be great! I’ll book you into the pub B&B.

Looking forward to it. I’ll be there around midday on Saturday x.

“She’ll be here Saturday,” Mabel said and set her phone back on the side table. “I think you’ll like her. She’s half British.”

“Which half?”

“The worst half, what did you think I’d say?” Mabel clicked on the last email and started reading. “Wow, Shakira’s really got the hang of what’s needed for this new project.”

“That’s good, right?” Colin looked over the top of his reading glasses at her.

“Yes, because if she can get up to speed this quickly there really is no reason for Joss to complain she’ll slow them down or mess things up.”

“You did say you were done helping with his project.”

“I am.” Mabel blinked at him.

“Then why are you answering emails about it?”

Mabel tried to explain. “I’m not actively involved in the project but Iko, Deepak, Joss and I own the company that is running the new project if that makes sense?”

“So, you’re basically your own boss?”

“Well, I used to be but now I’m just the boss and not the employee.” She grinned at him, “Which means that once I’m satisfied Shakira can fulfill my old role in the team, and I am, I can finally butt out and leave them to it.”

Colin wrinkled his nose. “I suppose that makes sense.”

She started typing, making sure to cc her old partners in.

“Have you heard anymore from dear old Joss or Sammy?” Colin asked.

“Not a peep.” Mabel sent off the email and closed her laptop. “Maybe they’re too busy focusing on their relationship to worry about little old me. Sammy was always big into therapy.”

“One can only hope,” Colin murmured as he turned the page. “Is everything set for the birthday party of the year?”

“I think so. Felicity and Mrs. Reynolds have done most of the organizing.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

Mabel shrugged. “I helped a little bit.”

Colin set his book down. “You have a very un-American habit of downplaying your achievements.”

“We’re not all like that, you know.”

“Fair point, but you’re not one to blow your own trumpet.”

“Trumpet?” Mabel snorted. “Hard to conceal one of those.”

He gently poked her in the ribs. “You know what I mean.”

“I get the gist of it. Anyways, I think you’ll like Dale. She’s a lot of fun.”

“Changing the subject, Mabel?”