Official Town Business (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book I)

Almost Too Sweet

"I can take care of myself," Imogen muttered, and threw the Mayor an uncertain look. 

It was so very confusing to see him focused on her. Generally she'd been under the impression that in everyday life Mr. John Thomas Oakby had been focused on her as a human being at about 26.3% capacity, while most of his attention was dedicated to her as a member of the Town Hall staff. And now he was looking at her - Imogen - and seemingly actually seeing her.

"Of course you can," he said in a slightly surprised tone, as if she'd just announced that the Earth went around the Sun - as if it were granted and he couldn't quite suss out why she insisted on repeating this banality. "But you don't have to do it alone all the time."

Imogen cocked her head and studied the Mayor. He shifted on the edge of his desk, and then wagged the top foot, his legs still crossed in the ankles. Imogen looked at the elegant shoe. The Mayor probably looked at the top of Imogen's head.

"What I'm saying, Imogen—" the man started in his soft velvet baritone, and Imogen's face flew up. 

She couldn't wait to finally find out what it indeed was that he was trying to say - and then something loudly banged in Imogen's office. She'd forgotten about the children!

"Those are my children," Imogen muttered, staring into the Mayor's bright blue eyes.

"Right," he drew out, for some reason also without taking his eyes off her. "Kathy and Brian."

Imogen made a noise of a sharply squeezed rubber toy. He remembered the names! She had mentioned them of course at some point - but hadn't he asked not that long ago whether they were her children? And now he remembered!

"I'll go then?" she said, for some reason as if asking and waved vaguely behind her.

"Right," mumbled the Mayor again.

Imogen's head was strangely resisting her turning away from him, but she finally willed her body to break the eye contact and slowly walk to the door. The conversation still felt incomplete.

"Imogen," the Mayor called after her, and she twirled like a terrier hearing the sound of a rabbit in the shrubs.

"Yes?"

"Do you actually like being called Mops? Like Cooper did."

And here Imogen had thought this morning couldn't have gotten stranger!

"Um... No. To be honest I truly despise it." The Mayor looked at her from the corner of his eye, previously still peering at his shoes. Imogen wasn't sure why she continued, "My sister came up with the nickname when we were small. To tease me. And my childhood friends sort of picked it up." 

"Then perhaps they should abandon the habit," the Mayor drew out. 

Imogen never gave it much consideration, but to think of it, she agreed with the man.

Imogen already opened the door when a barmy impulse made her ask, "And do you like to be called Tommy, sir?"

The thick black eyebrows jumped up, and the Mayor smiled at Imogen.

"I hate it. It's a family name, so it's my Father who is John Oakby. But I've never seen myself as Thomas or Tommy. I've always thought I'm John."

Imogen nodded pondering his words.

"You called me John," the Mayor said quietly. "In the tunnel, when you helped me in the dark. You called me John."

Imogen smiled back at him.

"Did I?" She shrugged. "I suppose I've always thought of you as John too."

And before they got stuck in this odd mutual eye gazing again, Imogen went to check up on the kiddies.