“I brought you breakfast.” He held up a vacuum carafe and a white bakery bag, wearing a grin that gave her heart a somersault. Then it faded into a strangely uncertain expression. “Can we talk for a moment?”
“Mum, who is it?” Em thundered down the stairs, Max only steps behind.
“It’s Malcolm. I need to talk to him for a second. Why don’t you two get dressed for school?” She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind her, glad she had worn long pajama bottoms. Just as quickly she realized her top was showing indecent amounts of cleavage and clutched the cardigan’s lapels together.
“Coffee.” He handed her the carafe, then held out the bag. “Pastries.”
She’d woken in an alternate universe, clearly. “Thank you, but . . . I don’t understand.”
“Well, you called me to the door in my pajamas, so I figured I’d return the favor. At least I brought you coffee.”
“Very funny. Really, though, why are you here?”
He cleared his throat and thrust his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Kylee told me you offered her an introduction to some musician friends.”
“I hope I didn’t overstep. I offered before I thought about asking you.”
“No, that’s not it at all.” The uncertainty flashed once more. “That’s a rather large favor. I was just teasing when I said you owed me one.”
Now, this was an interesting turn of events. He’d given her a hard time about accepting help, and now he was squirming because she’d done his niece a favor. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Kylee.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what it is to be an artist with the limited opportunities on Skye. And I know how fast dreams die when they aren’t nurtured. Kylee is too talented to watch that happen.”
“Then thank you. You have no idea what this means to Kylee. And me.”
“Sure,” she said softly. He began to turn, and before she could think better of it, she asked, “Malcolm?”
“Yes?”
“What happened to Kylee’s parents . . . your sister? Why does she live with you?”
Malcolm’s expression closed, and Serena instantly regretted broaching the subject. Then he met her eyes, his pain evident in the tense lines of his face. “They were killed in a car accident last year.”
It was the sort of answer she had feared. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” He glanced down the drive, toward his house—what had to have been his sister’s house. “I’m not half the parent Nicola and Richard were, but I’m all Kylee has left.”
Serena swallowed, everything she could come up with feeling woefully inadequate. “She’s a remarkable girl, Malcolm. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job with her.”
Their eyes met and held for a long moment, beginning the most peculiar ache in her chest. Then he smiled faintly and stepped backward off the porch. “That means more than you know, actually. Thanks again, Serena.” She watched him stride to the end of the drive, where he turned back with a wave before heading to his house. Serena slowly opened the door to her own, where she was instantly peppered with Em’s excited questions.
“What was he doing here? What did he bring you, Mum?”
“I don’t know.” She was about to suggest they share whatever it was, until she peeked into the bag and found mini cranberry bannocks. Three of them.
“We get one too?” Max asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes, you get one too.” Somehow that was a degree of thoughtfulness she hadn’t expected from Malcolm.
Serena set the kettle on the stove to heat for the kids’ tea and then sat down with them at the kitchen table, where they dug into the lightly sweet fruit-studded bread as if it were their first meal all month. All the while her mind continued to circulate around Malcolm Blake.
What was she to make of him? He was a puzzling mix of bluntness and sensitivity. He had no compunction over hassling her and slinging innuendo, but he also played Snakes and Ladders with her children with as much enthusiasm as if they were his own, not to mention the way he advocated for his niece. He made a big show of his blue-collar, work-for-a-living ethics, but glimpses of how he managed the hotel made her think he possessed far more experience than he let on. Plus, there was still the whole engineering career that she couldn’t fit into what little she knew of his background.
You could always pull his personnel file. Or you could just ask him. But that was dangerous because once he knew she was curious about him, he’d press her even harder for that date. Her willpower was already beginning to crumble. Bad enough that she hadn’t felt this kind of primal pull toward a man in years. Even worse that these glimpses of the deeper, thoughtful person inside powerfully tempted her to give in and see where this thing might go.
She couldn’t do that. She had a life in Nairn. Skye was merely a detour. And unless she was looking for a quick, casual fling—she wasn’t—it made no sense to even dip a toe into those waters.
Plus, she was his boss. Maybe they could be friends, or at least cordial coworkers. But anything else could only lead to disaster.
She managed to get the children off to school with some semblance of concentration, then sat down at her kitchen table to begin her work for the day. First, she dialed Davy. When the call went directly to voice mail, she left a message and then opened her laptop. It was high time that she took a look at the staffing situation. Malcolm might act as though filling in at the bar was no big deal, but he routinely worked eleven-hour days during the week and another six or eight hours on the weekends. That was far too much on a regular basis; she certainly didn’t think it was fair to make him pick up the slack for the bartenders and housekeepers as well.
But there was also the matter of payroll budgets and staff schedules, not to mention hiring reliable people. By the time she went to pick up Max from preschool, her head ached from staring at columns of numbers. There was no doubt about it—it would cost them to bring on extra staff, and it would cut into profits. But it needed to be done. They didn’t want to become known as a business that took advantage of its employees. James and Ian would have to understand that.
Serena drove Max home, then settled him with cookies, milk, and a puzzle while she drafted her proposal to her brothers. She sent off the message with a copy of a spreadsheet, hoping they would agree with her proposed allocation of funds. She would have to get moving on the new marketing plans to help make up for it.
Those would have to wait, though, since it was nearly time to pick up Em from school. There never seemed to be enough uninterrupted time in her day to finish a task. When she and Max arrived at the front of Sleat Primary, the little girl sped out of the school building with a wide smile. “Mum, Felicity invited me over to her house after school tomorrow. Can I go?”
Em’s beaming face brought a wash of relief. “I’d like to talk to her mum first. Does Felicity ride the bus?”
“No, they’re over there.” Em pointed to a little girl and a woman with identical blonde ponytails, already starting toward the car park. Before Serena could say anything, Em abandoned her rucksack and sprinted after them. “Felicity! Wait! My mum wants to talk to your mum.”
Serena retrieved Em’s bag with a wry smile and led Max to the waiting woman, who smiled and put out her hand. “I’m Alice Quinn, Felicity’s mother.”
Serena shook Alice’s hand. “Serena Stewart.”
“You’re new to the school. I was going to ring you and invite you and Emmy for tea, but I see Felicity beat me to it.”
“That’s very kind of you. We’d love to. As long as it’s okay that I bring Max.”
“Naturally.” Alice smiled warmly. “We live at Elm Cottage in Tokavaig. Do you know it?”
“I do. Close to Dunscaith Castle, isn’t it?”
“Precisely. Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow. Thank you again.”
“We’re looking forward to it, truly.” Alice and Fe
licity gave identical waves good-bye and turned toward their car.
“Thanks, Mum.” Em’s eyes were bright, and she was barely able to keep from skipping back to their own vehicle. “I think you might like Andrew’s mum too. They just moved back last year from Fort William. Sort of like us, I guess. Andrew doesn’t speak Gaelic very well either.”
Serena smiled and ruffled Em’s hair. “I’m sure I will. I’m glad you’ve made some friends.” Maybe they were finally settling into the change at last.
In fact, there was something so ordinary about the night—Em doing schoolwork at the table and Max playing with cars on the floor while she cooked—that she felt she could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. This was what she wanted for her family, at least for a season—relaxed afternoons free from lessons and pressure and bustle. When the weather finally turned, they would rush through their work to play outside in the increasingly light evenings.
They had just finished supper when Serena’s mobile beeped. She picked it up and saw Davy’s number on the screen. Missed call. The mobile signal here in Breakish was still somewhat dodgy, even if it was far better than in Isleornsay. She tapped an icon to play the message, and a female voice with a very thick Highland accent poured from the speaker.
“Hi, Serena; it’s Davy. I just got home. Glenn is in LA right now, and I have a gig in Inverness on Saturday, but perhaps you could bring Kylee by the following Saturday? We’re happy to give her some guidance. Tell her to bring her guitar too, if she wants.”
Serena deleted the message with a smile. Davy—short for Davina—had been one of her dad’s most talented students, which also meant she’d been around the house a lot growing up. She’d been right between Serena and Jamie in age, a year behind Serena in school, so they’d had their share of girl talk. It was one of those friendships that had endured despite the fact they had seen each other only a handful of times in the past fifteen years.
Serena called back and left another message, then hesitated a moment before dialing Malcolm’s mobile. He picked up immediately, the sound of voices and laughter ringing out in the background.
“I knew you’d come around.” His voice warbled over the bad connection. “Admit it, it’s because of my coffee-making skills. What time should I pick you up on Friday?”
Serena laughed. “Not so fast. I wasn’t calling because I’m agreeing to the date idea.”
“And this is the sound of my heart breaking.” A horrible sound came on the other end of the line.
Serena couldn’t suppress her laugh. “That’s paper crumpling.”
“How do you know? Are you so skilled at breaking men’s hearts that you recognize the sound?”
Her smile stretched wider, making her face ache. “Be serious, please. I did have a legitimate reason for calling.”
“Okay.” His voice sobered. “What’s up?”
“I heard back from Davy tonight.”
Static crackled on the other end of the line. “What’s that? You’re breaking up.”
“I said—wait, where are you?”
“At the bar.”
“Again?”
“Again.” His tone said he was no more pleased than she was. “Owen . . . sick . . . I said I’d . . .”
Serena pulled the phone away from her ear, though clearly it wasn’t going to help. She was fortunate her call had even connected in the first place. Even though she didn’t know if he could hear her, she said, “Hold tight. I’m coming over.”
The phone went dead before she knew whether he caught her last words. She lowered the phone and looked at her children. “Shoes on. You’re going to visit Auntie while I head to the hotel for a few minutes.”
“Why?” Max asked.
Because your mum has gone completely mad. She also felt a little guilty that once more Malcolm was pulling a second shift while she had enjoyed supper at home with her family. No wonder Muriel invited Malcolm and Kylee over on Monday nights.
While the children put on their shoes, Serena packed a healthy portion of the still-warm shepherd’s pie in a plastic container with utensils. After she dropped Em and Max at Muriel’s—something her aunt declared a wonderful surprise—she drove down to the hotel, her heart beating a little harder than the trip warranted. This gesture definitely took them over the line of business association into the realm of personal.
Serena parked at the end of the lot near the bar, then crunched to the heavy oak door. Light and laughter and the sound of music drifted from inside, signs that the place was crowded, even on a Tuesday night.
The heat and noise hit her like a blast when she pulled the door open. Almost every table was filled, even though few of the barstools at the mahogany slab were taken. In the far corner of the dark-paneled room, several men set up traditional Scottish instruments. No wonder it was packed.
She let her eyes go back to the bar, where Malcolm pulled draught beers and poured drinks while chatting personably with the patrons. He’d ditched the leather jacket in favor of a checked shirt unbuttoned over a T-shirt, the sleeves rolled back past the elbow.
He looked surprisingly comfortable in the role, not like he was only filling in for the night.
The sudden flush of attraction shocked Serena into stillness, and for a brief moment she considered turning around. But before she could put that thought into action, he saw her and gave her a surprised smile she felt down to her toes. No turning back now.
“What’s this?” He gave the already-clean bar a reflexive wipe as she approached.
“Dinner. Have you eaten?”
“I have not. I hardly expected you to bring me dinner after you hung up on me.”
“I did not—” she began before she realized he was baiting her. “It only seemed fair, since you are once again stuck here instead of home.”
“I don’t know about fair, but it’s appreciated. Can I get you something?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink if I’m going to get behind the wheel.”
“Very sensible of you. But it doesn’t have to be alcohol. Here. Try this.” He found a highball glass beneath the bar, scooped ice into it, then filled it with seltzer from the hose. Then he poured something from a clear glass bottle and added a splash of cream from the under-counter fridge. He slid it across to her. “Italian soda.”
“In a bar in Scotland?”
He grinned. “I make them for the designated drivers. Better than a bottled fizzy.”
She took a sip and smiled. “Ginger.”
“Yes.” He cocked his head. “Come down and keep me company while I eat?”
She should just tell him about Davy’s call and leave, but instead she found herself sliding onto a stool at the end of the bar while he opened the container.
He took a bite and nodded in approval. “This is good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Serena sat there silently for a few minutes, then said, “You look pretty comfortable back there. I take it you’ve done this before?”
“I tended bar to put myself through grad school.”
“Grad school?”
“You’d be surprised how many overeducated bartenders and hotel managers are out there. I don’t mind it, actually. I like the people.”
She gave him a sideways smirk. “All this time I thought you weren’t a people person. But it was just me.”
He leaned forward onto his crossed arms, his eyes never leaving her face. The proximity made her heart pick up speed. “I probably owe you an apology for that, don’t I?”
“No. Well, yes, but I don’t expect one.” Why was her brain suddenly working so sluggishly? “You work hard, and I know that. Which is why I’m talking to Jamie and Ian about increasing our budget for payroll.”
Malcolm straightened, the smile fading. “Why?”
“Because you clearly have other responsibilities, and it isn’t fair that you’re constantly asked to fill in for employees. That’s not your job.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Bu
t I do. I don’t want to be responsible for the fact you’re not home for Kylee.”
He cleared his throat. “Serena. I can use the extra hours.”
Too late she realized she should have led with the other half of her news. “I’m not surprised. Considering your responsibilities, you’re being underpaid. I’m giving you a raise.”
He blinked. “Come again?”
“I’m waiting for Ian and Jamie to approve the final numbers, but it’s clear to me that we can’t do without you. And you don’t underpay indispensable staff.”
Malcolm stared at her as if he weren’t sure what to say: the pitfalls of crossing that line between professional and personal. She rushed on before the silence could get truly uncomfortable. “Anyhow, the real reason I’m here is because I heard back from Davy tonight. She says they’re free Saturday after next. Do you think that will work for Kylee? You’re not on the schedule here until two.”
“For this opportunity, we’ll make sure it works.” For a moment that unexpected vulnerability surfaced in his eyes. “Thank you. For . . . both things.”
Her heart gave a little tug, and she buried the feeling as quickly as it had surfaced. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“Are we friends now?”
“I think it’s preferable to enemies.”
He studied her face. “I never thought of you as an enemy.”
The way he looked at her was starting to go to her head far faster than alcohol ever could have. She rushed on. “In any case, it’s the least I can do. We need to start implementing the new marketing ideas soon, especially if I’m adding to the overhead. Starting next week I’ll probably spend mornings at the hotel while Em and Max are at school. If I’m not going to be in the way, that is.”
“You won’t be in the way.” He snapped the lid onto the container and pushed it toward her. “Thank you for dinner.”
“It’s my pleasure. See you on Monday, then?”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
She took the container with an uncertain smile and turned away from the bar. Just before she pushed through the door, she darted a glance behind her, expecting to see that Malcolm had gone back to work. Instead, he stood in the same place, watching her.
Under Scottish Stars Page 12