Chapter 24 #2
The words grate. Our history is our identity—our soul. And the idea of erasing our connection to the McGregors just as we’re rediscovering it feels fundamentally wrong.
— Questions? William asks.
— Yes, I say, sitting up straighter. Your design is certainly bold. But it feels like it sacrifices our identity on the altar of modernity.
— Identity evolves, he replies, condescending. Clinging to the past is a risky business strategy.
— Respecting the past isn’t clinging to it, I counter. Keira McGregor’s design strikes the perfect balance between tradition and innovation.
— Ah yes, Miss McGregor, William says with a smile that makes me want to punch him. A talented designer, no doubt. But perhaps a bit too sentimental? Her approach lacks boldness, don’t you think?
I’m about to defend her work more forcefully when my father intervenes.
— I think we have much to consider, gentlemen. The board will review both proposals before making a decision.
I stare at him, stunned.
— You’re seriously considering abandoning the project we’ve been working on for months?
— I’m considering what’s best for the company, he replies coldly. I suggest you do the same.
With that, he adjourns the meeting, and the board members begin filing out. I remain seated, trying to rein in my anger and frustration.
William approaches me, that smug smile still in place.
— Don’t take it personally. It’s not against Miss McGregor—or should I say, your fiancée? Congratulations, by the way.
— Thank you, I reply flatly.
— I do hope our little professional competition doesn’t create tension in your relationship, he adds with false concern. It would be a shame if business disagreements affected your marital bliss.
As I watch him walk away, unease settles deep in my gut. How did he prepare something this detailed so quickly? And why did my father reach out to him now, when Keira’s project is progressing so well?
Unless…
No. Even for my father, that would be too calculated. He wouldn’t orchestrate this just to test my loyalty—to see whether I’d choose the family business or Keira.
Would he?
I find Keira still in the conference room, carefully packing up her models. She looks up when I walk in, and I can tell immediately—she already knows.
— They’re going to drop my project, aren’t they? she asks directly.
— They’re considering William Fraser’s proposal, yes, I admit. But nothing’s been decided yet.
She nods, her expression steady.
— I see. And what do you think?
— About William’s proposal? It’s terrible. Clinical. Cold. Soulless. It erases everything your design brings forward.
A faint smile touches her lips.
— You noticed.
— The McKenzie and McGregor symbols woven together? Of course I noticed. It was… it was brilliant, Keira. Truly.
She looks away, suddenly vulnerable in a way I rarely see.
— It wasn’t calculated, you know. It just felt right. After everything we’ve discovered.
We.
That single word makes my pulse spike.
— I’m going to fight for your design, I say firmly. The board needs to understand this is about more than just a renovation.
— And if you lose? she asks softly. If your father chooses William’s proposal?
That’s the question I’ve been avoiding. The one that cuts straight to the heart of everything twisting inside me. What am I willing to risk—for Keira? For this “us” that might only exist in my head?
— I don’t know, I admit. I don’t want to have to choose.
— Between your company and me?
Her question is direct.
— Between two visions of the future. One that erases the past for short-term gain—and one that honors it to build something lasting.
She studies me for a long moment, like she’s trying to read everything I’m not saying.
— About what you said earlier, she says finally. About extending our arrangement.
My heart stutters.
— Yeah?
— I think that would be a mistake.
The words hit like a freight train.
— I understand, I say, forcing my tone to stay even. It was just a suggestion.
— No, you don’t understand, Alistair, she says, shaking her head. It would be a mistake because we can’t keep pretending this is just a professional arrangement. Not after what happened in that barn.
I stare at her, not entirely sure where she’s going.
— So what? We end it now?
— Or we stop pretending, she says. We admit that maybe… it’s not entirely a facade anymore.
Her gaze is steady—full of vulnerability and courage—and something inside me finally gives way. The weight of the act, the doubt, the uncertainty… it all starts to lift.
— It hasn’t been a game for me in a while, I admit.
A real smile—bright and unguarded—lights up her face.
— Me neither.
We look at each other, everything hanging in the space between us. In that moment, our relationship feels wide open—full of possibility.
I step toward her, ready to pick up where we left off in that barn—
The door flies open.
Martha appears, even more flustered than before.
— Mr. Alistair, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but there’s an urgent situation with—
She stops short when she notices how close we are and immediately takes a step back.
— I can come back later…
— No, Martha, it’s fine, I say, clearing my throat. What is it?
— It’s Rosita, sir. She’s escaped again. And this time, she’s taken three other ewes with her.
Keira and I exchange a look—then burst out laughing at the exact same time. The timing is so absurd, so perfectly ridiculous.
— Looks like Rosita’s started her own resistance movement, Keira says between laughs.
— A full-scale ovine uprising, I add. Hamish must be proud.
— I’m sure he trained her.
Martha looks at us like we’ve completely lost our minds—which, honestly, might not be far from the truth.
— Should I… assemble a search team, sir?
— No, Martha, that won’t be necessary, I say, pulling myself together. I think Miss McGregor and I can handle this diplomatic crisis.
— Together, Keira adds, her smile sending my heart into overdrive.
— Together, I confirm.
And as we head out to track down our rebellious sheep, I realize that whatever the board decides about the boutique, something far more important was decided today. Something that has nothing to do with renovation plans or competing proposals.
Something that has everything to do with the fragile balance between past and future, between caution and courage, between pretending—and being real.
A balance Keira and I are going to have to learn to hold… together.