Page 7 of Wild Scottish Love

I didn’t say that, of course, because I’d never been able to stand up to the icy-cold force that was my parents. Instead, I gritted my teeth.

“That’s her job, Mother. You simply can’t ask her to close down an entire distillery at your whim.”

“A wedding for one of the most prominent families in Scotland is hardly a whim.”

If they are so prominent, why do they want to host it at my little distillery then?

Again, I bit my tongue.

“Apparently, they find the building charming, and they love the Old Town location. You know how brides are…they get what they want. I can’t possibly disappoint them. You’ll approve the weekend, of course.” It was as close as my mother got to asking, and I felt my resolve buckle. I’d promised myself that I would stop capitulating to their demands through the years, but thus far I hadn’t succeeded.

“Of course, Mother. I’ll tell Cassidy to schedule it in, on one condition…” I paused as silence greeted me. “You will book Cassidy a nice day at your spa. Full treatment. She needs the time off and I know it would be a real treat for her.”

“Honestly, Munroe. You’re too frivolous with the help.” Cassidy was far from “the help.” She was a highly trained executive manager that kept my business running smoothly.

“I’ll wait for your confirmation of her spa day, and then I’ll give her the go-ahead.” My mother disconnected without saying goodbye, a sure sign that I’d annoyed her, but that wasn’t anything new for me.

“The Ice Queen liveth,” Graham proclaimed, bowing deeply with his clubs as though he had an audience with the royals. After meeting my parents only once in all of the summers I’d gone to Loren Brae, Graham and Lachlan had instantly coined them the Ice King and Queen, and the names had stuck.

“She’ll outlive us all.” I sighed. It might be a bit inconsequential of me to force my mother to do something nice for someone else in return for a favor, but it was the only way I’d found to gain some foothold with them and their demands through the years. I absentmindedly rubbed at the ache in my chest that always blossomed when I spoke to either of my parents.

Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never enough. Same story, different refrain.

“What now? Still mad you didn’t go into Macallan’s?” Lachlan asked.

My parents were silent partners in Macallan Whisky, one of the most respected whisky brands in the world. When I had decided to follow my own path, instead of taking a job at Macallan’s as a handout from my father, my parents had been livid. Since then, they took every opportunity they could to needle me about my gin business. Even worse? The name I’d picked, Common Gin, chafed at their upper crust sensibilities. It didn’t take a psychologist to unravel why I’d chosen that name, but I liked the appeal of creating a drink that everyone could enjoy. There had been so many lonely days as a child, curled up with my books, aside from those glorious summers at Loren Brae, that there had been something in me that wanted to create community. Maybe I needed to do it to spite my parents, or maybe I needed it to fill a well that was empty inside me, but either way, I was deeply proud of how Common Gin had grown.

“Nah, Mother wants to let her friends have a wedding at the Edinburgh distillery in September.”

“I didn’t know you did weddings.” Lachlan narrowed his eyes. “You charge a lot for that?”

“Sometimes.” I shrugged and ignored the question about what I charged. I hadn’t charged any fees for the weddings I’d done as they’d all been by request of my mother. The rain picked up, and I dug in my bag for my coat. “Shall we call it, lads? I’m not sure I’m in the mood to play through this.”

“Och, and here I was having such a fine game,” Graham said, a delighted grin spreading on his face. “Let’s grab a beer and talk more about this wee distillery of yours, Munroe.”

“You’re buying. You clearly lost even though we didn’t finish,” I pointed out as we hurried toward the clubhouse.

“You’d think a man as rich as yourself could afford to be buying his mates a drink,” Graham grumbled.

“Och, I can afford it. I just don’t want to.” I laughed, shaking my mother’s phone call off so I could focus on something far more interesting.

The Kelpies.

I chuckled to myself, even though I understood the gravity of the situation. But maybe, just maybe, I needed to believe in something fantastical—something outside the norm—in order to lift my spirits from a life of constant work and loneliness. Even if it meant that I’d be putting myself in danger, there was no way that I was staying away from Loren Brae. No, my friends needed me now more than ever.

It looked like Common Gin would be coming to Loren Brae.

CHAPTERFOUR

Lia

Istill couldn’t believe that I was here.

Scotland.

Of all the places I had thought about moving to in my future, Scotland had never once crossed my mind.

You don’t have to stay.