Chapter 24
Jamie
‘So, what’s this amazing idea you have?’ Jimmy Butler pinpointed his son with the demanding stare that had haunted Jamie his whole life.
Even in poor health, his business drive was intimidating.
Jamie, who thrived on high expectations wasn’t sure how he’d find motivation to work come the dreaded time that Jimmy Butler was no longer around.
‘As you know, I had a break at Ben Corrin Hydro…’ He decided to contextualise with something his father was fond of. ‘Honestly, Dad, it was a mind-blowing week.’
‘It’s good for the soul, that place. So, you were inspired, eh?’
‘Aye.’ Jamie was tempted to leap onto the table and whoop and rave about Alicia, but his dad would tell him to get down. ‘See, I met this woman…’
Jimmy had already steepled his fingers in scepticism.
‘She’s an artist. Paints spectacular scenes. You should see the painting she did of Ben Corrin.’ He laid the envelope from Alicia in front of his father and slid out the painting.
With serious intent, Jimmy scrutinised the artwork, while Jamie’s heart rattled behind his ribs. That his father hadn’t immediately pushed the painting back across the table was a good sign.
‘Aye,’ Jimmy mused. ‘This is an impressive painting alright.’
‘It’s stunning. My suggestion is we commission this artist to paint a series of local images for a limited-edition range of bottles. We could even get the pictures etched for that extra exclusive touch.’
Jimmy nodded slowly as he roamed his gaze over the painting for a time longer. The room was so quiet Jamie could hear his watch tick. His father picked up the painting and tilted it this way and that, as if examining it in different lights.
‘Of course, I’d need to ask the artist if she’d be willing,’ Jamie added, feeling like a teenager showing his dad his homework for approval.
‘But I wanted to run it by you first.’ Was there any way he could ensure his father was on board with this idea?
What if he mentioned the Clark Donoghue connection? But that might cloud the waters.
‘What I wouldn’t give to climb that mountain again,’ Jimmy said wistfully. Until recently, he had also enjoyed bagging Munros. It must be devastating for him not to be able to do that anymore. But would the emotional attachment mean that the idea could strike a chord?
‘This is a fitting tribute,’ Jamie noted. ‘Your way of saying thanks to the mountain. What do you reckon? Should I call the artist?’
‘Aye. Aye.’ Jimmy chewed on his words. ‘Do that.’ Slowly, he put the painting down, as if there was an emotional wrench compounding his physical difficulties.
‘There’s a lot of scenery around here might be good on a whisky bottle.
Get the artist to draw up some proposals for other places too and we can take it from there.
Of course, if Baron are in with us, it would need their say so, too. ’
Once again, Jamie resisted the urge to jump on the table, but inside he was up there punching the air.
If he could get Alicia to agree to the idea, his father would surely approve of any proposals.
Getting Jimmy feeling positive about things was the first step to stopping this Baron buy over nonsense.
He disappeared into his office to phone her.
There was no reply. Jamie tried again several times. She should still be at the hotel as it was Monday and her checkout wasn’t until Saturday. Maybe she was painting.
Before the end of the day, Jamie called a few more times but there was no response. In the end he left a message.
‘Hey, Alicia, it’s Jamie. I hope you’re okay.
Listen, I’ve an idea I want to run by you.
Ideally, we’d have spoken in person, but I can’t get hold of you, so here goes.
Would you come to Kinshore and live with me?
Live here. Stay for a bit. Jesus, I sound intense.
Listen, the idea is this: your art, it’s stunning.
I’m sucked right in. Your painting of Ben Corrin is the next best thing to real life and all week I’ve been intoxicated by it.
I don’t know how, but you have a way of capturing emotions on canvas that gives my goosebumps goosebumps.
So, I’d like to commission you to paint scenes from around the Kinshore area that we can use on the whisky bottles.
It’s exactly what we need. What do you say?
Would you come here and paint some places the way you’ve painted Ben Corrin?
Obviously, you can stay with me, if you want to, that is.
So, erm…give me a buzz when you get this. Right, cheerio.’
Jamie ended the call, relieved to stop rambling. Where was Alicia? He hoped she hadn’t gone walking and got stranded again. Hopefully, she would get back to him soon.
But the week dragged on without a return call and by the weekend of Alicia’s check out of the hotel there was still no word.
Jamie sent a couple of texts but the ticks never turned blue.
The only answer was that she was blanking him.
He would have to go to his father and say the idea was dead in the water.
He now regretted hastily proposing the artwork idea before suggesting it to Alicia.
‘The deal with the artist has fallen through,’ Jamie said, when he caught up with his dad on the following Monday. ‘I’ll come up with something else. Let me think about it over Christmas.’
Jimmy raised his eyebrows as if he’d seen this outcome coming. ‘Shortest lived deal in history.’
Jamie didn’t blame his father for expressing disappointment, given his circumstances.
It couldn’t be easy being locked into a body that didn’t work properly and reneging control over certain things.
But what worried him more was that disappointment morphing into a steelier resolve to sell the company.
He knew his father did not want to sell.
And he didn’t want Jimmy leaving this earth with an ounce of regret about his decisions.
Trying to instil confidence in his father and buy some time, Jamie said, ‘Dad, trust me. I came up with this idea, didn’t I? I’ll work something else out.’
‘I suppose you haven’t let me down before.’
‘Exactly!’ He pointed at his father in a way that would have got him a stern look as a child.
‘Let’s have a good Christmas. Something will come to me.
We can get the whole family involved.’ He was grasping at straws now, but his siblings had grown up with whisky infiltrating every one of their senses and some of them could be quite creative when required.
At lunchtime, Jamie blew off the cobwebs with a run along the beach. It was bitterly cold, but the icy air in his lungs was life affirming. He was running to the distillery end of the beach when he saw Sandy Macdonald, a worker at the distillery, approaching him from further down the sand.
‘Alright, Sandy.’
‘Alright, Jamie. Sorry to interrupt your run. This is a bit weird but you ken that actress…goes out with Chad Blackberry or whatever his name is. Alicia Donoghue? She’s up at the distillery looking for you.’
‘What?’ Jamie’s jaw dropped open. Alicia? In Kinshore?
‘Aye, I ken. It baffled me too. But I’m pretty sure it’s her. She’s got the accent and, well, bonny lass, there’s no denying it.’
‘She’s at the distillery?’ How is this happening. She wasn’t answering her phone and now she’s here.
‘Aye, she came into reception and asked for you by name. Maybe she wants to buy a barrel or something for Chad’s birthday.’
Jamie didn’t wait to hear any more of Sandy’s absurd hypotheses or even whether Sandy could give him a lift back to the distillery. He just broke into a run, calling out as he left.
‘Thanks, Sandy, catch you later.’ If Alicia was here, Jamie should get to her asap before she disappeared. Was he close to seeing her again, kissing her again, touching her again?
It was only when Jamie had run the near mile to the distillery that he realised he was drenched in sweat and probably smelled awful.
Nevertheless, he burst into reception like a man possessed.
And there she was – Alicia – standing at the front desk chatting away to the receptionist, Lorna, who was gaping like a star-struck teenager.
‘Alicia?’ Jamie tried to curb the disbelief in his voice but it was difficult to temper. And when she spun round, his breath doubled back on itself at her beauty.
‘I thought you went home?’ He stepped towards her, ready to grasp her cheeks in his palms and drench her in a movie-style kiss, but he would drench her in sweat and Lorna was gaping like a fish, so he motioned to Alicia to come down the hall to his office.
‘So, this is where you work.’ She took in the room as Jamie closed the door.
‘Aye, but I usually shower and dress better.’
Facing him dead on, Alicia dragged her gaze down his body in a way that made Jamie’s cock twitch. ‘You look pretty damned good to me.’
‘Thank you. As do you.’ He was glowing from more than his run. ‘I’d kiss you, but I’m sure you’d prefer it if I had a shower first.’
But to Jamie’s surprise, Alicia walked to the window, closed the blinds, came to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and mumbled, ‘Nuh-uh,’ hovering her mouth over his. ‘You are more delicious this way.’
A familiar pang of arousal stirred inside Jamie’s running shorts as Alicia entwined her tongue with his. Fuck, he wanted take her right here but he had no protection. When the kiss intensified to hands snaking under clothing, Jamie forced himself to pull back.
‘Leesh, you’re killing me here. Can we go home and do this? I’ve no condoms.’
‘I have some.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. Although they are Scottish novelty condoms that I got in a vending machine at a rest stop. They’re whisky flavoured or something.’ Alicia dug into her handbag and pulled out a small tartan packet.