26. How to Train Your Scot
HOW TO TRAIN YOUR SCOT
CALLUM
Forty-eight hours after the engagement party catastrophe, I've barricaded myself in Abernathy Corp's executive office with one singular task in mind.
To bury myself in acquisition paperwork until the outside world ceases to exist.
August is ending with a spectacular heatwave, pushing Seattle temperatures into the nineties, but inside my climate-controlled fortress, I'm immune to both the weather and the emotional aftermath of Saturday night's debacle.
Or so I keep telling myself.
My phone has been silenced, my email filtered to show only MacTavish acquisition-related messages, and my office door locked with strict instructions to Alana that I'm not to be disturbed for anything short of the building catching fire.
Even then, I'd prefer she just email me about the evacuation procedures.
This plan works brilliantly until precisely 2:17 PM, when Connor and Luke simply override my security protocols and let themselves in.
"That's illegal," I say without looking up from my spreadsheets. "Corporate espionage, if we're being technical."
"Sue me," Connor replies, dropping into a chair opposite my desk. "I'll counter-sue for emotional damage caused by watching you self-destruct."
"I'm not self-destructing. I'm working."
"For thirty-six hours straight," Luke points out, leaning against my credenza. "Without food, proper sleep, or human contact. That's not work, it's punishment."
I finally glance up, taking in their concerned expressions.
His dark blond hair strewn all over his head, Connor looks like he hasn't slept much either, his usual immaculate appearance slightly rumpled.
Dar-haired and serious, Luke is watching me with the focused intensity he typically reserves for particularly challenging security breaches.
"I'm managing a crisis," I say flatly. "The acquisition is hanging by a thread. The board has called three emergency meetings. And the internet seems pathologically invested in my personal life. Forgive me if I prioritize damage control over social niceties."
"This isn't about social niceties," Connor says. "It's about you refusing to answer calls from people who care about you."
"And people who have information you need," Luke adds.
That gets my attention. "What information?"
Luke moves to the conference table, opening his laptop. "Information about Richard, Duncan MacTavish, and the credential fraud that's got you building walls higher than Hadrian."
I lean back in my chair, arms crossing. “For the record, I’m not interested in discussing Karina.”
"Well, that's unfortunate," Luke replies, typing something into his computer, "because she's only part of a much bigger picture that you're currently missing."
Before I can respond, my office door swings open again, revealing Viktoria Peters on my threshold.
For a second I almost thought it was Karina, the family resemblance is so damn uncanny.
She’s got the same dark eyes as Karina, but with a sharper, more calculating intensity. Her sleek bob and impeccably tailored pantsuit practically scream cybersecurity professional.
"Your assistant tried to stop me," she announces without so much as a ‘hello.’ "I told her I'd either come in through the door or through your firewall. She made the sensible choice."
"Ms. Peters," I acknowledge stiffly. "I wasn't aware we had an appointment."
"We don't." She strides to the conference table, setting down a laptop of her own. "But when someone uses my sister as collateral damage in corporate warfare, I make time in my schedule."
"Your sister committed fraud," I point out.
Viktoria's gaze is razor-sharp. "Yes. She did. And Richard Abernathy facilitated it."
I blink, arms uncrossing. "Explain."
"Perhaps I should start," Luke interjects. "As you know, I've been conducting thorough background checks on everyone associated with the MacTavish acquisition."
"Yes, that's how we discovered Karina's deception," I say impatiently.
"Actually, that's how Duncan MacTavish discovered it," Luke corrects. "My investigation revealed something more interesting—evidence that Richard deliberately manipulated the credential verification process during Karina's hiring."
My mind stutters. "What?"
"Richard instructed HR to perform only cursory checks on Karina's background," Luke explains, turning his laptop toward me. "Here's the email he sent, specifically requesting that Drake Communications and Stellar Digital be verified through their general contact lines rather than HR departments."
I scan the email, recognizing my brother's casual writing style. "This doesn't prove anything. He could have been fast-tracking her application because they were dating."
"He was," Viktoria confirms. "But look at the dates. This email was sent two days after my sister discovered evidence of his embezzlement and confronted him."
I frown, studying the timestamp. "You're suggesting this was deliberate."
"I'm stating it outright," Viktoria says firmly. "Richard deliberately created a scenario where my sister's credentials wouldn't be properly verified, ensuring he had leverage against her if she threatened to expose his embezzlement."
The implications hit me like ice water. "He set her up to be discredited if she turned him in."
"Precisely," Luke confirms. "Classic insurance policy. If she exposed his theft, he could reveal her credential fraud, destroying her credibility as a witness."
"And when he fled the country, he left this little time bomb waiting," Connor adds. "Clever, in a sociopathic sort of way."
My thoughts race, reassembling the puzzle with this new piece. "But why would Duncan have this information? How did he know to look at Karina's credentials specifically?"
Viktoria smiles grimly, opening her own laptop. "That's where things get really interesting. I've been running network analysis on communications between Richard and various external parties during his last three months at Abernathy Corp."
She turns her screen toward me, displaying what appears to be a complex web of communications connections.
"Richard was in regular contact with someone at MacTavish Global from April through June.
The communications were routed through multiple VPNs, but the digital fingerprint matches servers Duncan uses for his personal communications. "
"You're saying Richard and Duncan were collaborating?" I ask, struggling to process the implications.
"Not initially," Viktoria clarifies. "Based on the content I've recovered, Richard first reached out offering information about Abernathy Corp's acquisition strategy.
Duncan rebuffed him until Richard mentioned having 'insurance' against a key Abernathy employee who could potentially cause problems post-acquisition. "
"Karina," I murmur.
"She was leading several projects Duncan considered valuable," Luke adds. "Including the cybersecurity education initiative that's central to the acquisition's public relations strategy."
I lean back in my chair, mind reeling. "So when Richard fled..."
"Duncan maintained the connection," Viktoria confirms. "And when the #KiltedCasanova campaign started gaining traction, they saw an opportunity to leverage both the viral moment and Karina's vulnerability."
Our strategy session is interrupted by Alana bursting through the door, tablet in hand and expression frantic.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Abernathy, but you need to see this immediately," she gasps, clearly having run from her desk. "The Scottish Tourism Board has just named you an honorary citizen of Edinburgh and wants you to be the face of their 'Men in Kilts' calendar fundraiser."
I stare at her blankly. "What?"
"They've issued a formal press release.” She thrusts the tablet at me. "They're calling you 'Scotland's most eligible export' and have offered you a castle tour."
I blink. Slowly. “My family already owns a castle.”
"Not this one. It's the royal residence. With the actual royal family. As their guest."
Before I can formulate a response, she's already checking another notification on her phone.
"Oh! And three different reality shows have reached out about you potentially starring in their 'eligible bachelor' seasons.
One of them is called 'Kilted Courtship' and is being created specifically for you. "
Connor snorts, clearly struggling to maintain composure. "Please tell me you're considering it. I would pay actual money to see you hand out roses while glaring menacingly at hopeful contestants."
"This isn't funny," I growl.
"It's a little funny," Luke smiles.
Alana's phone pings again. "Um, also, someone has started a petition for you to carry the Scottish flag in the next Olympics opening ceremony. It already has fifty thousand signatures."
"I'm not even an Olympian!"
"The petition argues that your 'cultural contribution to Scottish global awareness' qualifies you," Alana elaborates. "They're calling it 'Kilts for Gold.'"
My head falls into my hands. "Make it stop."
"I've been trying, sir. But every time I issue a decline statement, it seems to fuel more interest." Alana shifts awkwardly. "There's also a fanfiction now where you reconcile with Ms. Peters on the summit of Ben Nevis during a dramatic thunderstorm. It's... quite detailed."
"Thank you, Alana," I say through gritted teeth. "That will be all."
She nods and hastily retreats, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
Connor is the first to break it, with a snort that quickly evolves into full-blown laughter.
Luke joins in, and even Viktoria's stern expression cracks into a reluctant smile.
"This isn't amusing…” I tell the room.
"It's hysterical," Connor manages between gasps. "You're being asked to carry a flag for a country you don't live in, based on a viral hashtag about your thighs, while being offered reality TV stardom and a castle tour."
Put that way, the absurdity of the situation is undeniable.
I feel the strangest sensation building in my chest, and to my horror, a laugh escapes before I can fucking stop it.
"There he is," Luke says approvingly. "I was starting to think we'd lost you to datapoints and righteous indignation."
I shake my head, the tension of the past forty-eight hours finally cracking. "This is insane. All of it."
"Welcome to viral fame," Connor says dryly. "It's a hell of a drug."
The momentary lightness fades as I refocus on the evidence before me. "So Richard and Duncan conspired to discredit Karina, knowing she had fabricated credentials."
"Yes," Viktoria confirms. "And based on the timing of Duncan's statement at the party, he deliberately orchestrated the revelation for maximum impact to the acquisition negotiations."
"He knew the board would panic," I realize. "That investors would question my judgment. That the public spectacle would leverage my embarrassment into concessions."
"Not just that," Viktoria says. "My analysis shows that Duncan's team was behind the explicit #KiltedCasanova content from the beginning."
This pulls me up short. "What about the original posts? The more innocent ones?"
"Those appear to have come from inside Abernathy Corp," Luke says carefully. "But not from Karina's accounts, despite the login credentials."
The pieces finally click into place. "Someone else at Abernathy started this, and Duncan's team escalated it for their purposes."
"Exactly," Viktoria confirms. "They took an embarrassing but relatively harmless viral moment and transformed it into something that could genuinely threaten the acquisition."
I sit with this revelation, reassessing everything I thought I knew about the past several weeks. "So where does this leave us?"
"With options," Connor says firmly. "Duncan manipulated the situation. Richard set Karina up. None of that excuses her credential fraud, but it does put it in a different context."
"And what about the acquisition?" I ask, focusing on the business implications first, safer territory than my jumbled feelings about Karina.
"That's where this gets interesting," Luke says with a slow smile. "Duncan doesn't know we've uncovered his connection to Richard. Or his team's involvement in the explicit content campaign."
"Leverage," I murmur, seeing the strategic advantage emerging.
"Precisely," Viktoria agrees. "And there's one more thing you should see.
" She pulls up an analytics dashboard on her screen.
"The #BeyondYourLabel hashtag that emerged after Karina's exposure has gone viral in its own right.
People are sharing their stories of credential gatekeeping and systemic barriers. "
I scan the data, noting the engagement metrics exceeding even the original #KiltedCasanova campaign. "This is... unexpected."
"It's an opportunity," Connor comments, blue eyes sparking. "To change the narrative again. To take something potentially destructive and make it constructive."
I lean back in my chair, considering the possibilities.
For the first time since the engagement party, I feel something other than betrayal and anger.
I feel a spark of the strategic thinking that built Abernathy Corp in the first place.
"Thank you," I say finally, looking at each of them. "For the intervention. And the information."
"Does this mean you'll talk to her?" Connor asks directly.
I hesitate.
The hurt is still raw, the breach of trust significant.
But the context matters. It always has.
"I don't know yet," I admit. "But I do know we need to deal with Duncan. And Richard."
Viktoria nods. "Now that sounds like the CEO my sister kept talking about."
As they gather their things, preparing to leave me to my thoughts, my office door bursts open one final time.
Alana stands there, expression apologetic but determined.
"One last update, Mr. Abernathy. The Highland Hammocks underwear line is proceeding without your endorsement. They've named their signature product 'The Abernathy'—it features a special tartan-lined..." she clears her throat, "...supportive pouch."
Connor loses it completely, doubling over with laughter.
Even Luke and Viktoria can't maintain their composure.
And despite everything—the betrayal, the manipulation, the impending board meeting, and the acquisition hanging in the balance—I find myself laughing too.
Perhaps that's the first step toward seeing things clearly again.