Chapter 3 #2
“Aye,” William says. He reaches for the papers he gave me and folds them into thirds. He slides them across the table to me, and Cairstina watches silently. “She and Islan were meeting with a mate, something to do with the wedding coming up?”
Cairstina nods her affirmation.
“Good,” Leith says. “I need to speak to her about who she’s bringing as her date.”
“She’s bringing a date?” I ask sharply.
Leith’s lips twitch. “Oh, she won’t call it that.”
“It isn’t,” Cairstina says, her normally placid voice tight with anger. “He’s making them bring bodyguards as dates.” She gives Leith a reproachful look, and I stifle a laugh. She’s normally very placid, but she loves our sisters as if they were her own.
I guffaw, looking at Leith. “Seriously?”
He sighs. “Seriously. I think they’ve both disowned me, but I’m not backing down. You know how dangerous weddings are.”
“Oh, right,” I say, barely tempering the need to laugh out loud. “Love in the air and all that? Fuckin’ dynamite.”
He rolls his eyes, walking over to the computer and gesturing for me to give him the folded sheets. He keeps them away from Cairstina, facing away from her. “You know what I mean.”
I do, though. Drinks flow easily, guards are down, blokes are looking for a hook-up. People do stupid things when they’re at a wedding.
“Aye, Leith, just takin’ the piss outta ya. I do. Anyway, our boys are right strappin’ young lads, the girls ought to like having them as their escorts.”
Cairstina blows out a breath and rolls her eyes so hard I wonder if she’ll blind herself. She shakes her head, tosses her hands on her hips, and storms out of the room.
Leith doesn’t even look up from the papers. “She’s lucky she’s cute. Jesus, William, you did your job thoroughly, didn’t you?”
William grins. “That I did.”
“Well done, you,” he says approvingly. He looks up to me, sobering now that Cairstina’s left the room. “What’d you do today?”
“Oh, just wiled her with my charm’s all,” I say smugly. I won’t feel guilty, I won’t. “You know. As you do with the ladies. Collective you, I mean, as I daresay you wouldn’t know how to charm a fucking blow-up doll.”
He lucked out with Cairstina. You could say the two of them met unexpectedly.
Leith snorts, rolls up the papers, then moves as if to smack me upside the head with them, but I duck his blow.
“Keep me posted, Mac.”
“Will do that. Suggestion on where to take her in town?”
Leith strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Aye, as a matter of fact I do….”
I’ve been text-flirting all afternoon, and I have to admit, I’ve bloody enjoyed myself. I pick up my mobile and send another text.
Mac: Do you like to sit with the crowd or secluded?
Bryn: Och, secluded, are you kidding me? Do people actually enjoy crowds?
Mac: Theoretically. I wouldn’t know.
Bryn: Secluded it is. I’d prefer that, I may be able to actually hear you speak instead of having to read your lips like I usually have to at a pub.
Mac: I’d like to read your lips, too.
In reply, she sends me a string of xxxxx’s.
It takes me a minute to realize they’re text-kisses.
"Do you know that you're smiling to yourself like a lovesick lunatic?"
I put my phone down and roll my eyes at William. "And all of a sudden you're the expert on facial expressions and how that quantitates to levels of love?"
He stands up, folding his laptop, and shakes his head from side to side. “She’s a bonnie lass, isn’t she?”
I sigh. “Fuckin’ gorgeous. She’s a stunner.” But I blow off his concern. “Won’t be hard to seduce a woman like her.”
“Who are we seducing?” Paisley comes in the room, grinning.
“Honest to God, do you girls have no compunction whatsoever about entering a private room?”
She turns and looks at the door, then snorts. “Seems you should’ve locked it then, hmm?”
I roll my eyes.
“Tell me, Mac. What’s the plan here?”
I take the folded papers and shove them in my right back pocket, shoving my mobile in my left. I feel another buzz coming in, and my heart lurches in my chest. Is it another text from Bryn?
Paisley giggles. “My God, Mac, just look at it already, see if she’s sending you provocative selfies, hmm?”
“Paisley,” I warn, shaking my head as I exit the room, but I won’t lie and say the idea doesn’t appeal. Immensely.
I head to the kitchen to make a cup of tea before I get ready for tonight, when I hear Mum's voice. I walk around the corner to find her, as she heads my way. She grins when she sees me and holds up the white paper bag in her hand. "Did you go all the way into Inverness just to get me my favorite?"
“Of course,” I tease. “Had nothing to do with an errand or a job I had in town.”
She smacks my arm teasingly. When I was a smaller lad, she’d ruffle her fingers through my hair, but because I’m so much taller now than she is, she can’t reach me. We share the same eyes and the same black hair, though hers is all silvery-gray and cropped short.
She’s got a pair of gardening gloves in her free hand.
“You gardening now?”
“Aye, Maeve said it’s good for the soul, so I said I’d give it a go.” Maeve, the McCarthy Clan matriarch, has become good friends with Mum, and visits from time to time.
“Thanks for these, Mac. What errand do you have in town?”
She knows I have plans with Aitkens’ daughter, if the girls said anything. I had no scruples about what my plans were when we first found out about Aitkens’ claim against my sister, but once I’m working on a job, it’s best as few people know about it as possible.
“Oh, things,” I say, evasively enough that she knows it’s best I don’t get into details. She nods quietly, then changes the subject.
“Have you seen your father lately?”
I nod. “Aye, saw him at breakfast. Why?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. He just seems… off lately.”
He always seems “off.” It doesn’t take much.
The older he gets, the more cantankerous he becomes.
He wants his tea just right, his toast just so.
He wants everyone to respond to him immediately, and if things don't go his way, he almost has a tantrum.
I don't tell her I’ve noticed this. It must be hard to be the wife of Bram Cowen.
"How so?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says, worrying her lip. "He just seems detached. Not even angry, which I've gotten used to. More like he’s… brooding."
Again, he’s always brooding, so this is nothing new. Still, she’s my mum, and I make it a point to ease her worry. She’s put up with more from him than any of us have.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t you worry, alright?”
She smiles. “Thanks, Mac. I tried to talk to Leith, and he says everything’s fine, Dad’s just having a hard time letting go of control, and I’m sure that’s part of it.
Tate says the same, that he doesn’t like aging and allowing others to lead where he once did.
But I’ve been married to him for over thirty-five years, and I think it’s more than that. ”
I nod. “I know what you mean.” I don’t really, but I know a bit anyway, and I want her to know I’m listening.
I do wonder what it is, and I make a vow to myself that I will indeed look in on him. I don't think it’s something with his health, but I don’t want to neglect looking into something when Mum gives me fair warning.
I mull over what I’ll say to Bryn tonight, how I’ll get her to open up and trust me a little. The first thing I need to do is get rid of her bodyguards. Not that I’m planning on hurting her… yet. But I need her alone. I need to have privacy with her.
After I get rid of her bodyguards, I’m not sure what I’ll do, other than turn on the most brilliant charm I can muster.
I can do anything for the sake of the Clan.
Three hours later, I’m heading into town.
Leith’s pulled some strings and gotten me a reservation at Soirée, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Scotland.
We’ve pubs everywhere in the cities, but I’d like to do something a bit fancier.
My plan is to meet her for a drink first, then casually mention I’m hungry for dinner.
Wine and dine her, while I play the part of the gentleman.
I won’t even try to get into her knickers quite yet.
If I can hold off a wee bit, I can build up trust.
I will eventually, though.
I don’t think about breaking that trust. My goal is crystal clear, my focus perfect. I rarely think beyond what’s coming next, and I won’t now.
Islan helped me choose the right clothes for tonight. She knows what I’m up to, and unlike Paisley, approves. She eyes me icily when I head for the door.
“Knock her socks off,” she mutters, before turning back to her book. “Do it well. If you weren’t my brother, I’d say you look bloody smashing, but since that’s wrong, I’ll just say I did my job well.”
“Thanks?” I give her a salute, and she winks at me.
Islan was the one that saw how badly the Aitkens fucked up.
She knows they’ve tried to claim Paisley in an arranged marriage. She wants revenge almost as badly as I do.
I send Bryn a text.
On my way.