Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MAISIE
My head pounds in time with every wet swish of the mop across the Pheasant’s wooden floor. The hangover gods have outdone themselves this time. My brain feels like it’s hosting a bagpipe concert, with each note more discordant than the last.
Still, I soldier on and attack a patch of gunk. What even is this? I wonder. Something sticky. Whatever it is, it’s stubborn and obnoxious, not unlike a certain man I spent some time with yesterday—and who had the audacity to chuck me out of his car into rain so torrential it could’ve been the final scene in a disaster movie.
Bloody Jamie. Just the thought of him has me gripping the mop so tightly it’s a wonder I don’t snap it in two. What makes everything worse—what I really can’t wrap my head around—is that, before I was sent out into the storm, I’d actually been enjoying myself with him. There had been... moments. Like when I caught him watching me during the tasting, his eyes lingering on mine just a second too long before he looked away. Or when he’d steadied me as we were leaving, his chest solid and warm against my back. And as for the drive home, well, let’s just say it’s hard to square the obvious contempt he has for me (enough to banish me into a monsoon) with the... enthusiasm he had going on in his trousers.
Sure, I might have poked the bear a bit right before he kicked me out, but come on, this is Jamie McIntyre we’re talking about—the king of inappropriate banter. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it, right? The whisky must have dulled my awareness of just how wound up he was getting, but still, his reaction was wildly over the top. Is SassyLassie really that sacred to him? Was suggesting she might in fact be some guy called Big Davie such an unforgivable crime?
At least I got revenge, of sorts, in Highland Legacy . After months of healing LochNLoad’s sorry arse, buffing his stats, and saving him from death on practically every quest, it felt bloody brilliant to abandon him, just like Jamie abandoned me on the road home. And look, I’m not unhinged—it’s just a game—but... watching that wraith finish him off? Deeply satisfying. I know, I know, but I’m only human! Afterwards, I teleported myself to safety—perks of being a mage—and logged off.
Still, if I’m planning to leverage my online alliance with LochNLoad to suss out Jamie’s intentions for the snug, betraying him might not have been my smartest move. I’ll have to message him, smooth things over, grovel a bit. Although... now that I’ve had time to dry off and think about it, isn’t all this sneaky scheming a bit much? Aye, Jamie was an arse yesterday—an utter prick, in fact—but maybe I should be taking the moral high ground. Don’t get me wrong, there’s not a chance in hell I’m about to confess to keeping certain details from him longer than was strictly necessary. I’m hardly going to admit to a failing and offer an apology when what he did was so much worse. But... maybe I could just block LochNLoad and never play with him again? Clean break. No drama.
When my phone vibrates, my first thought is it’s probably him, wondering what that was all about with the wraith fight. But no, it’s Cat in the Scottish Sirens chat. She’s sent a photo of herself glaring at an Everest-sized stack of essays with a caption that reads: Send help!
Iona
Maybe just write “Needs Improvement” on each of them and call it a day?
Cat
I wish! Trying to pass my probationary year here.
God, it’d be such a relief to tell them both everything. But how would that conversation go?
Hey! Funny story. I’ve been secretly playing this online game with Jamie to spy on his plans for the snug. He has no clue it’s me! I suppose you could say I’m trying to sabotage the Bannock Hotel? Aye, I’m aware how much the place means to you both. Oopsie!
Hmm, what else? Oh aye, I kind of touched Jamie’s . By mistake, I promise! Although... before it happened, I HAD literally been thinking about doing it. Make of that what you will. LOL!
Anyway, just wanted to keep you both in the loop!
God, when did things spiral this far out of control? After I found out Jamie was LochNLoad, I fully intended to tell him I was SassyLassie. I really did. I tracked him down on Ben Garve, but then Bruce tangled us in his lead and tugged us over, and after that Jamie’s mode completely changed, and he stalked off before I could tell him. So then I thought, fine, I’ll do it in the game instead. But that’s when he casually announced his grand plan to “poach” some customers from “the competition” (a.k.a. me and Da).
At the time, keeping quiet for just a wee bit longer seemed harmless enough—a way to get the inside scoop. Not once did I think my choice might lead to unintentional penis petting, abandonment in a biblical downpour, or the staging of a virtual murder. I’m in too deep to come clean now.
So instead I send an image of a Highland cow in oversized sunglasses with the caption: You’ve got this!
Total cop-out.
I finish off mopping the floor then head down to the cellar to do a stock check. Clipboard in hand, I count bottles and kegs, my pen scratching against the paper as I tick off items on the list. If it were up to me, we’d use a digital system, but Da is a firm believer in “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. And what Da says goes.
When I reach the section where we keep Golden Stag Lager —a local craft beer that practically sells itself—I stop short. Two kegs left. Two. That won’t get us through Friday night, let alone the weekend.
Great.
I trudge back upstairs and find Da hunched over a mess of papers at his desk. The office, as always, smells faintly of lemon cleaner and stale coffee.
“Da, when is the Golden Stag delivery due?”
He lifts his head and frowns slightly. “It should’ve...” Trailing off, he glances down at the cluttered desk as if the answer might be hiding there somewhere. “Wait, didn’t it come in on Monday?”
“Nope.” I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. “We’re down to two kegs.”
“That can’t be right.” He rifles through a precarious stack of invoices and receipts. Flipping one over, he squints at it then grabs another slip from the pile. Finally he lets out a low groan and slumps back in his chair. “Aw, shite.”
“What?”
He tugs a sticky note free from the chaos on his desk—a crumpled square with scrawled reminders—and holds it up between two fingers like damning evidence. “Looks like I meant to place the order last week but forgot.”
I chew my bottom lip. “Da . . .”
“It’s these tablets the doctor put me on,” he says gruffly. “They make my brain all fuzzy.”
“It’s okay, Da. I’ll sort it.”
“No.” He straightens stiffly. “I’ll phone them right now.” He reaches for the landline on his desk.
I nod and leave the office, shutting the door quietly behind me.
He won’t admit it but he’s struggling, I know he is. First the stiffness in his movements, now forgetfulness? Keeping this place running is taking its toll on him but he refuses to step back, as though sheer willpower alone can make up for what’s slipping through the cracks. And maybe it could, once upon a time, but not anymore.
I let out a slow breath and glance around the empty pub. It’s on me to keep things steady, isn’t it? To pick up the slack where I can and stop mistakes like this one from happening again. Because we can’t afford more mistakes, not when Jamie is hovering about with whatever scheme he’s cooking up to poach our customers.
Sitting myself down at a table, I pull out my phone. Am I proud of being neck-deep in virtual espionage against Jamie? No, of course not. But since I’ve already waded this far into the muck, I might as well see it through. As much as I hate the secrecy of it all, knowing what Jamie’s planning could give me an edge when it comes to protecting the Pheasant. Knowledge is power, right? And not knowing—sitting here stewing in uncertainty—is torture. At least with answers, I can come up with a plan of my own. First step: apologising to LochNLoad for yesterday’s mid-battle betrayal. This is not going to be fun.
SassyLassie
Hey. So, about yesterday... sorry for how I acted. I was dealing with some stuff IRL. I wasn’t quite myself.
Of course, the things I was dealing with in real life involved Jamie, not that he has any idea. Honestly, I’m not sure this apology is going to cut it. He probably lost a shitload of EXP yesterday. If I were him, I’d be absolutely raging.
His reply comes in surprisingly quickly.
LochNLoad
No worries. Wasn’t my best day either.
Wait, what? He’s not going to berate me? Make me grovel? Demand I transfer him in-game currency in compensation?
LochNLoad
Hope everything is okay your end. Always here if you need someone to talk to.
I blink at my phone. I just... don’t get it. How can someone who’d abandon a person in a storm be capable of such easy kindness? The two sides of Jamie don’t match up at all.
LochNLoad
Fancy giving that quest another go tonight? Or we could try a different one?
Wow, it looks like getting back in his good graces might just be a lot easier than I was expecting. I fire off a reply saying I’ll see him online tonight.
Later, after the last punter has stumbled out of the Pheasant and Da has gone to bed, I settle in front of my laptop. My hair is still damp from my shower, and I’m wrapped up in my comfiest jammies. It’s just me, the glow of my screen, and a whole heap of questionable moral decisions.
As soon as I log into Highland Legacy , a message pops up.
LochNLoad
Ready to head back to Dun Speir? That wraith won’t slay itself!
SassyLassie
Actually... I’ve got a different idea. Meet at Elderhollow Forest?
LochNLoad
Intriguing! See you in a moment.
We both fast travel to the forest, then I guide Lochie through the towering trees, past bubbling streams and crumbling ruins overtaken by ivy, to our destination: the base of a roaring waterfall. The water tumbles into a crystal-clear pool, sending up sprays that catch the sun and scatter tiny rainbows across my screen.
LochNLoad stops beside me.
LochNLoad
Nice view and all, but . . . what now?
Instead of answering, I walk straight through the curtain of water. Lochie hesitates for a moment before following. There’s something satisfying about knowing something he doesn’t—not that it happens often.
Beyond the waterfall lies, not a dark cave, but a hidden grove bathed in eternal sunshine. Flowers in every colour ripple across the grass like a living tapestry. Butterflies weave lazy circles through golden beams of light filtering between ancient oaks. The air practically oozes serenity—a stark contrast to Highland Legacy ’s usual vibe of misty landscapes and looming danger.
LochNLoad
Holy shit! How did you find this place?!
SassyLassie
By accident! A troll was chasing me ages ago, so I ran through here to escape and... voilà.
LochNLoad
This place is incredible, Sass.
I pause a moment before opening my inventory and selecting the item I crafted on my break using some ridiculously rare materials. The Eidolon Plate glows faintly with blue magical patterns that counter ghostly attacks. Clicking Give , I transfer it to Lochie.
SassyLassie
For you. To properly apologise for yesterday.
LochNLoad
Wait... is this what I think it is? Wraith-resistant armour?! No way.
SassyLassie
Aye! To be clear, it won’t save you if he cleaves you in half with his glaive, but it should protect you from those pesky shock waves.
LochNLoad
You’ve brought me to a secret location AND given me an epic gift? Hang on—are our characters on their first date? LOL.
My hands hover over the keyboard for a stunned second before I type like a woman possessed.
SassyLassie
Date?! No! Definitely not!
But Lochie— Jamie —is undeterred.
LochNLoad
Really? Because look around, this place screams romance vibes: sunshine, flowers... butterflies doing mating dances or whatever it is they’re up to.
Oh God, he’s doubling down on this madness.
SassyLassie
I crafted the wraith armour for monster slaying—not matchmaking!
But Lochie moves towards one of the flower patches dotting the grove. Kneeling, he picks a single white bloom then walks back over to me with it.
LochNLoad
A man has to give his lass a flower on their first date, right?
I groan. This is not what I intended. I’m just trying to apologise and get him to trust me again so I can... what? Spy on him some more? Christ, when did I become this person?
LochNLoad
You know, in all our time playing together, we’ve never tried any of the game’s romance options.
SassyLassie
And we’re not starting now!
I’ve never been remotely tempted to dress SassyLassie in any of the absurdly revealing outfits available. Bikinis belong on a beach, not a battlefield. Nor have I ever had any interest in the game’s cringe-inducing “flirty” dialogue options, written by someone who apparently thinks “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” qualifies as top-tier banter. Why the hell would I want to trigger a candlelit dinner cinematic with another player—or worse, one of the infamous fade-to-black “romance” cutscenes that everyone goes on about?
Come to think of it, maybe I should’ve put my quotes around “fade-to-black” rather than “romance”. Because by all accounts, the in-game movies only actually dissolve to black after first “rewarding” players with a glimpse of bare boobs and a thoroughly unaroused penis. Apparently, that’s the developers’ idea of keeping it classy— no vaginas or erections in our game, folk . Truly masterful restraint.
Well, no, thank you. I’m not here for Sass’s bounce physics or Lochie’s sad sausage. I’m here to hurl fireballs in trolls’ faces.
Mercifully, Jamie drops the notion instantly.
LochNLoad
Fair enough! If you’re not keen, we won’t do that.
I blink at my screen, surprised by how quickly he backs off. The Jamie who abandoned me in the rain yesterday feels worlds apart from this considerate guy who immediately drops a topic at the first sign of reluctance. Honestly, it’d be so much easier to hate him if he were some creep who couldn’t take no for an answer, like half the blokes online. Why does he have to show glimmers of goodness and make me feel guilty about my deception?
LochNLoad
You know what? Even if it’s not a date, this is a cracking spot. It’s nice to chill in the sun for once rather than slay monsters in some dark demonic fortress. Oh, and to get to chat without risking an ogre caving my skull in mid-sentence!
Actually, remember I told you I’ve been tasked with making the place I work more successful? This is totally the vibe I’m going for. Sunshine and good company.
I reread Jamie’s last message, the cheerful emojis mocking me from the screen. The realisation hits me so hard it’s like I’ve stepped on a rake and the handle has smacked me right between the eyes. Sunshine, good company—and that bloody massive garden behind the Bannock Hotel.
Oh shit. Jamie is working on a beer garden.