22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Lunch with the Clairvoyant
Lachlan met Orlagh at their favourite artisan sandwich restaurant down in the village, Piece .
“Lachlan, over here,” she called to him from near the front window. Sunlight caught in her brown hair, turning it gold, and made her already sparkly blue eyes look almost ethereal—like some kind of white witch. Orlagh had an essence about her that was hard to miss, as if she had lived a thousand lives and quietly carried the mystery of the universe in her tiny five foot three frame.
He strode over to the table, leaning down to give his little sister a hug and peck on the cheek. “Did ye order yet?” He sat across from her, noting how busy it was. Every seat was filled, and there was a line at the door. Likely, the sunny weather had people wanting to be out and about.
“Yep, two grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“Braw,” he said, pleased with that decision. He was surprised how hungry he was after breakfast with Violet this morning. A vision of her jean-clad arse standing at his cooker popped in his mind.
Orlagh eyed him dubiously. “You look different.”
“Ah, yes, well, I had my hair cut last week,” he said, turning profile as if to let her fully assess it.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it," she scoffed.
He smiled, all innocence. She was still looking at him as if trying to solve a puzzle, and it unsettled him.
“Did ye meet someone?” Her face lit up as the words tumbled out of her mouth.
God, he swore she had a sixth sense, but he played dumb. “Someone? Well, yes, I did, in fact, meet a new distributor from California, Steve. Pleasant man.”
"Lachlan! I mean a lass, ye met a lassie. Tell me I'm wrong." Her face lit with glee.
A skinny young man wearing a black t-shirt and a gray waist apron with the word “Piece” written in white sans serif font approached the table and placed down two glasses and a glass water pitcher as well as two mugs of coffee, and then he was away again as fast as he'd arrived.
Lachlan picked up his mug of coffee and took his first fortifying sip. "You ken what I like about this place?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The mugs are a good size. Not the piddly little ones most restaurants are so fond of using, barely big enough for a wee nymph.”
"What?" Orlagh looked at him like he'd gone mad.
"The mugs?" he said, holding it up by way of explanation.
"Never mind the bloody mugs. Tell me about the lass!”
Lachlan shook his head. "Ye ken I am in a relationship with Anna.” He said it as if it was the be-all and end-all of the conversation, despite it feeling almost foreign on his tongue today. Christ, it was hard enough to deal with his own emotions at the moment. He didn't need his little sister muddying the waters further.
"Aye, Anna ." She drew out her name. "I dinnae like her. She thinks too highly of herself.”
"Well, she's an accomplished woman," Lachlan half-heartedly defended her.
"An' she ken's it," Orlagh clapped back.
Lachlan rolled his eyes. He knew very well that his sister wasn't fond of Anna. She'd made her feelings clear from the get-go.
"Never mind Anna, right now. Tell me about the lassie ye met."
Lachlan sometimes wondered if his sister was clairvoyant. She was way too perceptive. Orlagh could make a living as a psychic—wouldn't even need a crystal ball.
Several years back, Lachlan planned a road trip with one of his best friends since primary school, Jacob—whom Orlagh had a crush on. She'd practically begged Lachlan not to go. She claimed she had a “bad feeling” about it. On more than one occasion before the trip, she tried to convince him that something was going to happen and that he’d regret going. She even cornered Jacob and tried to convince him to boycott the trip. Lachlan believed the true reason his sister did not want them to go was because she was worried that it was a boys’ trip where they’d be on the prowl which, of course, was the plan. Lachlan ignored her warnings, but she managed to rattle Jacob. He questioned whether they should actually go. Lachlan remembered teasing his friend for giving his little sister any heed. Orlagh was not going to ruin their trip.
Sure enough, Lachlan’s car broke down in a remote area of the Highlands. The head gasket blew. He couldn’t believe their luck, but it was Jacob who quickly brought up Orlagh's premonitions. The trip never ended up happening. Lachlan and Jacob had to wait through the night trying to sleep in the freezing cold car, and then in the morning, they walked four miles to the first little village.
That was the thing about the remote parts of the Highlands. You could go days without seeing a soul. They were lucky there was a village relatively nearby. It could have been worse, but it still sucked. And it sucked even more when he had to face the “I told you so” from his baby sister.
That was just one of many times that she’d had a feeling about something or predicted an event. He often teased her that back in the day, they would have burned her at the stake for being a witch. To this day, Jacob still thought Orlagh had some kind of psychic powers, and Lachlan, feeling hot under the collar, believed he was right.
“Lachlan Rory Mackenzie, spill it,” she demanded.
He couldn't help but smile. He adored his feisty little sister, even if she did stick her nose where it didn't belong.
“I’m waiting, big brother. Who is she?”
“Nobody, it’s no’ what ye think.” He laughed at her prodding.
“We’ll see about that. Tell me.”
“Ach, ye huvnae even asked how I am, and ye're already grillin' me.”
“I can see how you are.” She gave him a sly grin. “And I want to ken who’s done it to ye.” She sucked in a sudden breath. “Did you get laid?”
“Rolo!” he scolded her.
“Wow, so no sex, but ye look good. Like glowy or somethin'. I want details. Come on, Lach, spit it out already. Ye ken, I'll find out anyway.”
“Seriously, ye've got it wrong. Nobody’s done anything to me." And then he added reluctantly, "I did meet a lovely lass, though.”
“I ken it.” She clapped her hands together triumphantly.
The same lanky server brought two oversized grilled cheese sandwiches to the table with large pickles on the side.
He had barely walked away when Orlagh quipped excitedly, “Go on.” She took a bite of her sandwich and watched him like she was snacking on popcorn at a movie.
“Och, dinnae let your witchy mind run away with ye. I met a lass, Violet Munro." He recounted the events of their serendipitous meeting. "It was a nasty tumble, and I was the lone witness. So, as any decent person would do, I went to help. That’s it.”
“Blimey, was she okay?” she said, munching away.
Lachlan knew trying to keep anything from Orlagh would be futile, so he opened up and told her how she ended up in his charge. He left out a few details. He wasn’t prepared to talk about Drew, nor did he want to talk about the deep conversations he’d had with Violet. And he certainly wasn’t going to tell his sister about the kiss, nor how much he craved to taste her again. No, some things he would not speak of.
“So did ye snog her, then?” Orlagh asked like a bloody mind reader.
How? How does she do it?
“Ah, ye did.” She grinned like a Cheshire cat, not bothering to wait for a response. “Of course, ye did. God, it’s so romantic, like some kinda fairy tale.” She sighed dreamily.
Lachlan took a large bite of his sandwich, refusing to say any more on the subject of whether or not he kissed the lass, and technically, she kissed him.
“So when are ye seeing her again?” Orlagh asked between chews.
“Why would I see her again? I helped her, I let her come stay with me for her twenty-four-hour window, and now that’s it. Done.”
“Och, dear God.” Orlagh groaned. “Dinnae tell me ye honestly have no intention of seeing her again? I mean, look at ye, just look at ye. Yer like a lovesick fool.” She sat back, crossing her arms.
“Christ, Rolo, I'm in a relationship if ye huvnae noticed. And ye may no' like Anna, but I'm no' in the business of cheating.
"Aye, I'm no' suggesting that, but I'm no' blind, Lachlan. It's plain to see.”
He cut her off, frustrated. "What's plain to see?"
Orlagh's features softened. "Ye feel something fer Violet.”
"Right, how can I not? We went through a pretty dramatic experience together. Of course, there would be some feelings there. But that's it now. She's fine and going off to live her life, and I'm living mine." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more, Orlagh or himself.
She let out a disgruntled, "Hmm."
Lachlan wiped his mouth with the napkin and put it on his empty plate before reaching for his wallet in his blazer that hung on the back of the chair. He pulled out a credit card, and their server was at their table in record time with the portable card reader. He wanted to get to the office so he could bury himself in work and think about something other than Violet Munro.
The server walked away almost as quickly as he'd arrived, and Lachlan stood, sliding on his blazer.
"Wait, what about Alex?”
"What about him?" Lachlan asked, straightening the lapels.
"Well, did ye talk to him? About Violet I mean?”
"Why would I?”
"Because ye and him huv that twin thing. He's the only person in this world that probably ken's ye better than me."
"Alex is busy fighting the bad guys. I'm no' gonna bother him to tell him about a lass I'll likely never see again."
Their parents weren't happy when Alex chose a career in policing. They'd assumed Lachlan and Alex would run the distillery together and take over the family business. It made sense to Lachlan, though. Alex loved whisky like the rest of them, but he’d lived for danger since they were kids. His poor mam attributed her early graying to Alex and his knack for finding himself in dangerous situations. And if it wasn't Alex causing her grief, it was Drew. Drew. Shite, that was another conundrum. It surprised him that his keen sister didn't know that Drew was back.
He leaned over and gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek.
“I have to go. I’ll see ye next week, okay?”
She nodded silently as if accepting defeat—for now.
Orlagh shook her head as she watched her big brother walk away. Needing to ground herself, she pulled a peppermint oil roller from her bag and applied a swipe to her temples and the back of her neck, the tingling effect immediately rejuvenating her.
She struggled to understand why he wanted to stay with a woman like Anna, especially when she could see the spark in him after meeting this Violet lassie.
Couldn't he see it? Maybe she was grasping at straws, but it was like Lachlan was just blindly bumbling through the motions with Anna. But why?
Anna MacDonald came from an influential family, and she ensured everyone knew it. Outwardly, she was very beautiful, and she was apparently intelligent, having earned a doctorate. But the second she opened her mouth, it was worse than listening to a twelve-year-old learning to play the violin. Lachlan invited her one time—thank God just the once—to their Sunday Sandwich date, and it was all Orlagh could do to not rip open her grilled cheese and throw the gooey bread slices over her ears to try and drown out the sound of Anna's incessant boasting. She didn't know how her brother could stand it. He had looked tuned out most of the time, and she couldn't blame him. As far as she knew, that was the only time Lachlan had brought Anna around any of the family, and as much as he made it sound otherwise, she was certain deep down he knew she just didn't fit in with the Mackenzie clan.
Orlagh was almost meditative in thought when someone sat in the chair across from her.