by Carrie Elks
‘I went there once as a child, I think,’ Lachlan said, narrowing his eyes as though he was trying to remember. ‘We visited the castle, and I remember being forced to eat some disgusting food in an old pub somewhere, but apart from that I know nothing about the place.’
‘Well, if you come over here to visit Glencarraig, you should definitely stop in Edinburgh. It’s a couple of hours’ drive from the Highlands, which feels like forever to us, but I imagine it’s a tiny distance to an American.’
He nodded slowly, looking straight at her. ‘Maybe I’ll do that.’
A tiny bit of panic pulsed through her. It was easy to talk to him when there was a distance between them, but the thought of having him here, in her home town, was a different matter. ‘But in the meantime, let’s finish this letter up and get it off,’ Lucy said, back to business. She lifted her arm, deliberately twisting her wrist so he could see her checking her watch. ‘It’s getting late here and I’m going out tonight. And I’m sure you’re very busy too.’
‘Are you doing anything nice?’
She swallowed, her mouth dry. ‘Just dinner with some friends.’ She caught a glimpse of the Pollock again, a shaft of sunlight suddenly illuminating that corner of his office. In her mind’s eye she could picture him trawling art galleries, admiring the displays, pulling his black Amex out of his wallet…
It was just a flight of fancy. He had people to do that for him. Interior designers, decorators, assistants. He probably didn’t even know what the painting was worth.
‘Okay then,’ she said, picking the paper up again. ‘Let’s go through this line by line, and I can get it sent off tomorrow. Who knows, maybe it will be enough to make your brother rescind his claim.’
For the next couple of minutes she was all business, her voice firm, her eyes carefully trained on the paper in front of her, and not the man on her laptop screen. And when the meeting finished and they said goodbye, she felt her body relax for the first time since she’d accepted that damn call.
When it came to client relationships, there were lines you didn’t cross. But with Lachlan MacLeish it felt as if they were everywhere, and when she opened her mouth she was stepping far too close to the edge.
She needed to be more careful. Otherwise it was only a matter of time before she fell right into the abyss.
7
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour
– Richard II
‘Hey, you made it.’ Jenn opened the door with a beaming smile.
Lachlan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before passing her the bottle of Caymus Special Selection. ‘I wasn’t sure what to bring, I hope this is okay.’
‘A cheap bottle of Cabernet would have been fine,’ she told him, raising her eyes at the expensive bottle of red. ‘Anyway, would you like a glass?’ She inclined her head and Lachlan followed her into the small apartment she shared with Grant. The two of them had moved there shortly before their wedding. Part of a block in the East Village, it felt warm and homely, stuffed with photographs and books, plump cushions and soft throws.
‘That would be great. Thank you.’
‘How’s the exciting world of research?’ Lachlan asked as she grabbed a glass from the kitchen shelf.
‘As exciting as the world of finance, I expect.’
‘I didn’t hear the door,’ Grant said, walking out of the bedroom. His hair was wet, as though he’d recently showered. ‘Thanks for making it, man. I know things were crazy at the office.’
‘Grant said you were still in meetings when he left. Who schedules meetings for seven on Fridays?’ Jenn asked.
‘I do.’ Lachlan had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘But it was an emergency.’
‘All sorted now, I hope,’ Jenn said, passing him a glass of the red wine he’d brought. ‘I want you to kick back and relax, not be talking shop all night.’
‘We don’t always talk shop,’ Grant protested, taking the glass his wife offered. ‘Sometimes we talk about football.’
‘And baseball, hockey, not to mention basketball,’ Jenn teased, kissing her husband tenderly on the cheek. ‘I’d just like us to have a nice meal without talking about Lachlan’s plans for world domination.’
‘Don’t worry, Pinky,’ Grant whispered to Lachlan, a grin splitting his face. ‘We’ll take over the world tomorrow. Tonight we’ll just eat cheese.’
‘Or sushi,’ Jenn said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I’ve been slaving over a hot stove ever since I got home.’
‘I thought sushi was raw,’ Lachlan said, confused.
‘It is. I was speaking figuratively. Now stop bothering me and go and sit at the table.’
‘Whatever you say, sweetness.’
Since he’d first met Jenn, almost seven years earlier, Lachlan had liked her no-nonsense attitude, and the way she didn’t take any shit from Grant – or from Lachlan, for that matter. But tonight she seemed a little more edgy than usual.
He smiled as he remembered the first time Grant had mentioned her. He’d been running late at work, bitching about some blind date a friend had set him up on. Back then, like Lachlan, he’d been a confirmed bachelor, claiming no woman was going to tie him down.
But then, he’d never reckoned on Jenn, had he?
‘So, Grant tells me you’re going to be some kind of duke or something,’ Jenn said, sliding a tray of sushi rolls onto the table. Small and round, their dining set was nestled in the corner of their living room, next to a window overlooking the city. ‘Lord Lachlan, it has a good ring to it.’
Lachlan laughed, shaking his head. ‘It’s Laird of Glencarraig, actually.’
‘Oh, get you! Do I need to curtsey when I see you?’
He picked up his chopsticks, expertly sliding them between his thumb and fingers. Growing up next door to Grant, he’d had years of practice. As a kid he’d practically lived at his friend’s house. ‘It’s a courtesy title. It means nothing.’ He slid the sticks around a piece of nori-covered fish, lifting it to his plate. ‘Anyway, it’s not even mine yet.’
‘Why not?’ Jenn took a sip of her water.
‘I thought we weren’t supposed to be talking about business?’ Grant said, frowning. ‘This sounds distinctly like business, right?’
‘Hush up. This is interesting.’ Jenn tapped him good-humouredly. ‘So come on, why haven’t you been crowned, or whatever it is?’
‘Only kings get crowned,’ Grant pointed out.
‘Shush.’
Lachlan grinned. There was something so comforting about the two of them and their bickering. ‘Because my half-brother also wants the title.’
‘Duncan?’ Jenn looked surprised. ‘I hadn’t put him down as being the Lord of the Manor type. He seems too interested in his cruise business for that.’
‘I don’t think it’s the title he’s after,’ Lachlan said. ‘It’s the principle. And a big F.U. to me.’
‘And you want to F. him right back. Am I right?’ Jenn’s face lit up. ‘You’re not going to give in, are you?’
He slid another sushi roll into his mouth, swallowing it down before replying. ‘These are really good. And no, I wasn’t planning on it.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. I’d hate to see him win.’
‘You’ve never even met Duncan,’ Lachlan pointed out. The last time he’d seen his half-brother was at the reading of the will. A glance between them was all that had happened.
‘Yeah, but I already know I don’t like him.’
‘Ah, I knew you’d be on my side.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s just going to make you more arrogant, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘All those girls already falling at your feet are going to be vying for your attention now you’re a lord.’
Lachlan moved his head from left to right, scanning the floor. ‘There are girls at my feet? Where?’
‘Oh shut up.’ It was his turn to be hit. She wasn’t so gentle, either. ‘You know what I mean.’
He winked at her. ‘
I don’t need a title to get a girl.’
‘Do I need to separate you two,’ Grant asked, ‘or are you going to behave?’ He poured Lachlan another glass of wine. ‘And anyway, it looks like more than a courtesy title to me. Have you checked out the MacLeish website?’
Lachlan frowned. ‘What website?’
‘Remember the attorney told you a lot of clans have websites and social media presence?’ Grant reminded him. ‘So I had a little Google and came up with this.’ He grabbed his phone and pressed on it, passing it to Lachlan with a flourish. ‘There’s a forum and everything. Not that it’s used much any more, but back in the day it looked busy. From what I can tell, most of the MacLeish clan prefer to tweet and post in the Facebook group now.’
Lachlan pulled his eyes away from the phone screen. ‘There’s a Facebook group, too? Seriously?’ His thoughts turned to Lucy Shakespeare, and her whole explanation of the clan system. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact she’d been proved right. Again.
‘Hey, what have I told you guys about having your phones out at the dinner table,’ Jenn chided, grabbing the phone from Lachlan’s grasp. She really was strong. ‘Oh my goodness, is that the MacLeish plaid?’
‘They call it tartan,’ Grant told her.
The website’s header was a blue and green plaid, with thin lines of red criss-crossing through the squares. ‘Do you have to wear that?’ Jenn asked him. ‘I can’t imagine you in a kilt.’
‘I’ve worn one before,’ Lachlan said mildly.
Jenn grinned. ‘When? And why haven’t I seen any pictures?’
‘I was a kid. And all the evidence is destroyed.’ Lachlan smiled back at her. ‘Sorry to rain on your parade.’
‘You’re not raining on anything. You’re making my day. Lachlan MacLeish in a skirt. It’s too good.’
‘I’m glad it amuses you.’
Jenn didn’t reply, she was too busy scrolling through the phone. ‘Oh boy, there’s so much information here. Babe,’ she said, turning to Grant, ‘did you know that Lachlan comes from a long line of MacLeishes, stretching back to at least 1638?’
Grant gently took the phone from her. ‘No phones at the table, remember?’ He slid the phone back in his pocket, then looked at her from the corner of his eye, as though he was expecting reprisals.
Lachlan smirked. ‘The hunter hunted.’
‘And just for that,’ Jenn told him, folding her arms across her chest, ‘you can both clear the table. And I don’t care if you’re the king of Scotland, make sure you put everything away.’
‘Is Jenn okay?’ Lachlan frowned. She’d finished clearing up the kitchen, shooing away any offers of help, and then told them she needed an early night. Grant had grabbed the two of them a beer, suggesting they climb up to the rooftop garden, the one overlooking the city. ‘She didn’t eat much. Didn’t say much either, after dinner. Did we make her mad with the phone thing?’
Grant shrugged, leaning back on his wooden chair. He had his feet up on the table, ankles crossed, a beer bottle resting in his hands. ‘She’s just exhausted. She’s been in bed by seven most evenings.’
Lachlan frowned. ‘Is she sick? Can I help? You know you’re both fully covered, right? And I’ll pay any deductibles.’
Grant grinned. ‘We might have to take you up on that. But not for a few months. Did you notice Jenn was only touching the veggie sushi? She can’t have raw fish.’
Lachlan twisted on his chair, the frown still playing around his lips. ‘Why not?’
‘She can’t drink alcohol, either, for that matter.’
A slow sense of unease tugged at Lachlan’s stomach. It combined with the realisation dawning in his mind, making him feel off-kilter, like a ship lurching in the sea. ‘She’s pregnant?’
‘As a metrosexual, supportive husband, I guess the right way to say it is “we’re pregnant”.’
‘Well, that would be a minor fucking miracle.’ Lachlan rolled his lip between his teeth, staring out into the inky black night, his eyes caught by the dots of lights peppering the tower blocks across the city. ‘Congratulations, man.’
‘Say it like you mean it.’ Grant laughed.
Lachlan took another mouthful of beer, the cool liquid snaking down his throat. ‘I do mean it. That’s great, you’re gonna be a dad. Jeez, that sounds so grown up.’
‘We are grown-ups. Have been for a while,’ Grant pointed out. ‘We do our own laundry, cook our own meals. Well, I do at least. You pay someone to do that for you, but that’s grown up, too, right?’
Lachlan said nothing for a moment, staring out into the distance. Is this what Peter Pan felt like, watching all his friends grow up around him? ‘Being a father takes it to a whole new level, though,’ he finally said. ‘You’re responsible for somebody else, for the rest of your life. Things will never be the same again.’
‘You’re making it sound like a life sentence.’
Lachlan sighed, mentally kicking himself. ‘I didn’t mean to make it sound bad. It’s just… different, you know? Yeah, I run a business, and I have an apartment. But those things don’t feel like a burden. I could walk out and leave it all behind at any time. You can’t do that to a kid.’
Except you could. He knew that from personal experience.
‘You couldn’t walk away from the business even if you wanted to,’ Grant pointed out. ‘You have employees to take care of. They have homes, bills, medical issues. You’re just as tied up as anybody else, even if you choose not to believe it. And anyway, having a kid isn’t a burden, not to me. Not with the right woman.’
Lachlan sat up, turning to face Grant. ‘Hey, you’re right. You and Jenn are going to be fantastic parents. Every kid must be jostling to be the one ending up here. Hell, we can even set a nursery up at the office if you like. That’s assuming Jenn’s planning on going back to work.’
‘Yeah, about that…’ Grant trailed off. The smile disappeared, as he failed to meet Lachlan’s stare. ‘I, ah, don’t know what we’ll be doing for childcare.’
Lachlan shrugged. ‘You’ve got plenty of time to think about that.’
‘She’s due in five months.’
‘But she gets maternity leave, right?’
‘She’s leaving her job.’ Grant was suddenly cagey.
‘She wants to be a stay-at-home mom?’ Lachlan asked, his eyes wide. ‘I thought she loved her job.’
‘She’s been offered another position. A better one. They’ve agreed she can take it up after the baby arrives.’
A genuine smile split Lachlan’s face. ‘That’s amazing. I’ll call her tomorrow to give her a double congratulations. She must be buzzed.’
‘There’s something else,’ Grant added quickly.
‘What?’
‘It’s at the University of Florida,’ he said, his voice low. ‘We’re planning to move back south.’
Lachlan opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Just a soft whoosh of air that dispersed into the night. He took another sip of beer, to moisten his dry mouth more than anything else, trying to work out why his chest felt like it was being squeezed by a constrictor.
‘Florida?’ he repeated.
‘Yeah.’ Grant lifted his bottle up. ‘Go Gators.’
A shrill siren cut through the silence of the rooftop garden, and Lachlan followed the van’s progress, his eyes tracing the blue lights as it criss-crossed the city streets. He felt as though he’d just been punched in the stomach, a Grant-sized fist leaving a hole in his gut.
‘We really want to bring this kid up away from the big city,’ Grant told him. ‘Plus we’ll be closer to family, and only hours away from Miami. It makes sense to make the move when the baby comes.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Lachlan nodded.
‘It won’t be for a few months. Six at least.’ Grant was almost stumbling over his words. ‘I’ll help you source a replacement, you won’t be left hanging, I promise.’
‘A replacement?’
‘A new assistant. We have enough ti
me to train somebody new. And who knows, they may even be better than me.’
‘Never.’ Lachlan wanted to ask if Grant would source him a replacement friend, too, but pushed the thought down as soon as it flashed through his mind. ‘You’re irreplaceable.’
Grant laughed. ‘That’s what they say.’
‘Florida, though, that’s a hell of a long way to move.’ Lachlan finished his beer, putting the empty bottle on the table. ‘You can still work for me down there. I’ve got the hotel, and I’m looking at some other places to expand into. What do you think?’