7. Chapter 7 #2
The man froze. “Actually… I think you’re in my rental.”
Wait a minute. The “Actually…” The cadence.
My fingers tightened around the blanket edge. Before I could move he stepped into the living room.
“Max?!”
His eyes widened. “Abby? What are—how did you—”
“Let me guess,” I said, finding my footing. “You’re the phantom renter who’s been paying for an empty house while gallivanting around the Highlands?”
He winced. “We’ve been shooting north of here.”
“All the hotels were booked.” Then for an extra jab, I added, “Film crews.”
His mouth curved into that familiar half-smile.
“Well, it’s a huge place. We can share it. How long are you here?”
“Well, the plan was to have a wedding at the MacAlister Inn where they met. A certain filmmaker isn’t allowing that to happen, so we’re looking for a good location on Skye.”
“Location scouting, I see.” Max scratched his stubbled beard. “You know, I don’t know your friend but there’s a really cool spot that I just love. But I don’t know if we’ll be able to use it in the film because it’s kind of fragile, and I don’t want to ruin it.”
“Well, we certainly don’t want to ruin a fragile location either.”
“I think a few people on foot who follow the rules and park in the proper car parks—” he said with a shrug.
“Wow, you’ve really got the lingo down!” I said, smiling.
“I’ve been working on it. No one knows what I’m talking about when I say ‘pop’ outside of the Midwest, so I’ve had practice adapting my word choices to the situation. Speaking of which, this place is officially called The Fairy Glen, but around here you don’t call them fairies.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A fairy glen?”
“You’ll love it. In fact, I’ll take you. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and we’re not shooting. We could go hiking, and I’ll show you.”
So, wait. We’ve gone from no contact in years to living in the same house and going hiking together?
Noticing my silence, Max quickly added, “I mean, if you want to. And, you know what? I can stay somewhere else. You were here first—”
“But you originally booked it.”
“I booked half of Scotland, or at least the Highlands. So yeah, maybe I can step aside and let you have this place to yourself.”
He was still nice. Damn him.
I bit my lip, considering. “I mean, it’s a three-bedroom place. Two bathrooms. I think we can manage.”
I inhaled slowly. Manage? What am I thinking? We couldn’t manage before.
“Um, so I’m going to go into the bedroom over there, and you can take one of the others.”
“You’re going to bed already? It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“I was taking a nap when you came in.”
Wrapping myself in the enormous plaid lambswool blanket, I shuffled toward the bedroom, his eyes following me the whole way.
I didn’t emerge until after nine. It was still light out.
After texting Caitlin to let her know I was staying in for the night, I went out on the deck. Max was already there. He’d set up the fire pit and was reading a script next to a small fire.
“Hey.”
He turned, surprised, then set down the script. “Hey.”
I took a moment to look around the space. “It’s amazing out here.”
The firelight caught his eyes as he gazed up at the darkening sky. “Last weekend the stars were amazing.”
“Wait—you’ve actually been staying here?” I leaned forward, catching the flicker of guilt across his face.
“Guilty as charged,” he admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Bought groceries and everything.”
“And here I thought I had a fairy godmother leaving me cheese and wine.”
He shrugged. “I can clear out, you know. Your friends could stay here with you instead of—”
“They’re getting married. Trust me, they want their privacy.”
Max glanced toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner? There’s plenty of that fancy cheese left.”
“So the ramen-noodle-eating film school nerd has gone full foodie on us?” I couldn’t help teasing him, even after all this time.
He stood, brushing off his jeans. “Can I interest you in something? A drink, maybe?”
I knew I should opt for water or tea, but somehow I ended up saying, “Red wine would be nice.”
He went inside and returned a few minutes later with a full charcuterie board as well as the wine.
I took a piece of cheese and put it on an oatcake with some jamón serrano while he poured me a glass of wine.
I sipped the wine—fruity and bold—and looked out at the glass-like water, so still and calm—everything I was not. The sky couldn’t decide if it was day or night, blues and grays wrestled with stubborn streaks of pink.
“So this is your sister’s wedding?” he asked.
“Yeah. She’s marrying a guy she met while she was visiting her friend, Melissa.
Melissa inherited a home in Inverness and decided to move there without much notice.
Caitlin flew out to check in on her. Next thing she knew, she was snowed in with this handsome lumberjack dude—who happened to be the owner of a Scottish pub back in Boston. ”
“Wait—Snowed in?”
“Yep.”
“So after they get married, they’ll go back to Boston?”
“Yeah, his pub is really great, and it’s like a home-away-from-home.”
We sipped our wine and nibbled on the snacks.
“I can’t believe it’s still not dark! When does it get dark?” I asked, looking around at the still dusky sky.
“Officially, the sun sets around 9:30, but it’s still twilight until well after 11. But it’s never as dark as it gets at home this time of year.”
“Wow. So you don’t have to worry about losing light.” It was so easy to slip back into my filmmaking mindset.
“No, but there’s not much time for night shoots.”
“Can you shoot day-for-night?”
“That’s what we’ve been doing. Just trying to get as much filming done this season as we can. I don’t want to be filming here in the winter. It’s the perfect temperature now… not too hot, not too cold.”
“You can just fix it in post,” I said with a grin.
He raised his glass to that. “Some things never change.”
I yawned. “I’m still not sure which time zone I’m in, but I think I’m gonna head to bed. Thanks for the… goodies.”
“You bet. Fairy Glen tomorrow morning?” His voice held a tinge of hope.
“Sure!”
I waved. He waved back.
What the hell were we doing?