Chapter 2
Ramsay
“Three. Solid. Corner pocket.” I leaned over the pool table and neatly pocketed the ball, while Munroe groaned, and Lachlan chuckled.
“I told you to watch out for him, Munroe.” Lachlan, manager of MacAlpine Castle and childhood friend of mine, beamed at Munroe’s annoyed expression.
“The lad’s lost his touch now that he’s on the way down the aisle,” I said, poking Munroe’s buttons.
“You’re not wrong. Who knew planning a wedding would be so involved? I just want to throw money at it and tell Lia to do whatever she wants so long as she shows up at the aisle on the appointed day. Her mother…” Munroe shook his head, real fear entering his eyes, and he swallowed. “I thought the Scots were bad, but an Italian mother-in-law? Man, when she’s not mothering me to death, she’s ordering me around like a drill sergeant.”
“Och, lad, you love every moment of it,” Lachlan said, topping up our glasses with a fine Islay single malt.
“Coming from the Ice Queen, can you blame me?” Munroe lifted his glass in thanks.
“The Ice Queen?” I asked, rounding the table and lining up another shot.
We were in the games room at MacAlpine Castle, a fire crackling to ward off the mid-winter chill, the promise of a home-cooked meal luring me from my shop. Hilda, the castle caretaker, and substitute mum for those who needed some extra nurturing, had badgered me into coming up for the night on the pretext that Lachlan needed more time with his friends. I suspected it was more that Hilda needed to make sure I was well fed, and frankly, why would I turn down the offer of a free meal? One less task for me to take care of, as more often than not, I’d defer to eating cold beans out of a can along with a loaf of sourdough or a meat pie in my workshop. Nutritious, filling, and requiring little effort on my part, the latter being the most important. If I could cut out one less decision in my day-to-day, I was happy to do so.
“Munroe’s mum might as well be an ice queen for all the emotion she shows,” Lachlan explained. “Could cut coal into diamonds on her frigid face.”
“Family can be tough,” I said. I would know, better than most. I pocketed another ball, to Munroe’s deep annoyance.
“Ramsay can commiserate with you on that part,” Lachlan said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. He looked at ease here, man of the manor so to speak, and it fit. Even so, I’d never known him to treat anyone differently based on their bank balance or where they’d come from. Not that that ever stopped me from poking him when I thought his upper-class upbringing was showing.
“Aye, can you then? It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Munroe slid me a glance.
“I don’t dwell on it.” I shrugged one shoulder and pointed my cue at another pocket. Bending, I lined up the shot. “Nothing can be changed, so why fuss over it?”
“Is it your parents? Or other family?” Munroe asked as I was about to take my shot and I glared at him. Raising his hands in apology, he stepped out of my sight line, and I took my turn, missing by a small miscalculation. Annoyed, I looked at Lachlan who grinned.
“This is how people make friends, Ramsay. We share about our lives with each other.”
Whereas Lachlan and I had known each other since childhood, Munroe was a newer acquaintance, having only passed through Loren Brae during the summers when I was working every hour of the day to help my family make ends meet.
“Should we paint each other’s nails and talk about boys too?” I asked, not remotely interested in discussing my messed-up family dynamics.
“Oh, Matthew would be pissed if you do that without him.” Sophie, Lachlan’s partner, trailed into the room with a tray full of snacks in her arms. A stunning woman, with ample curves, an American cheerfulness that I often found daunting, and whip-smart mind, I liked her for Lachlan. And they clearly liked each other, as their eyes heated when they met across the room. “You know how much fun he had the last time you helped him on Tinder when he was here over Christmas.”
“He has poor taste in men.” Lachlan sniffed.
Sophie threw her head back and laughed.
“As I’ve been telling him for a while now. At least you managed to snag him a good date for his holiday.”
“Of course I did. I have great taste.” Lachlan winked at Sophie as she put the tray down on a side table. Turning, she clapped her hands together and zeroed in on me. Oh shite. I knew that look in her eye.
“No,” I said, turning away from her to watch Munroe take his shot.
“But you don’t even know what I’m going to ask yet.” It came out as a whine, and I couldn’t be sure, as I wasn’t looking at her, but there may have been a foot stomp as well.
“Still, no.”
“What if I was going to ask you if you wanted a million pounds?”
“Don’t need it.”
“Everybody needs a million pounds.”
“Nope. My needs are met.” I rounded the table, thinking about my next move.
“You could donate the money to a charity of your choice. Think how much they’d love you.”
“I already donate to charities.”
“A million pounds though?”
At that, I lifted my head and sighed.
“Are you actually offering me a million pounds, Sophie?”
Sophie screwed up her face and sighed, her shoulders slumping.
“No. But …”
“Then, no, my charity of choice is not going to be upset about a fictional amount of money that they’ve lost out on.”
“I suggest you just get to the point, darling, before Munroe wins this game. You’re distracting Ramsay.”
“Please, distract away, Sophie. I haven’t won a game yet today and money is on the table.” Munroe, owner of Common Gin and likely able to buy all of us several times over, grinned at Sophie.
“If I must.” Sophie sidled closer, her eyes huge as she planted herself in front of me. Sighing, I straightened, holding my pool cue, and looked down at her. She fluttered her eyelashes. Despite my annoyance, my lips quirked.
“What do you want?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t leave until she said her piece.
“Have I told you how much I love your shop? The kilts you make are…” Sophie leaned in, widening her eyes, and stage whispered, “better than cheese.”
I looked to Lachlan in disbelief. “Is that meant to be a compliment?”
“The highest form of flattery, no doubt.”
“Is it a kilt you’re wanting for Lachlan then, lass? I’ve no trouble making one for a friend,” I said, the tension easing from my shoulders. That was an easy enough wish to fulfill.
“Oh, well, now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind getting him a new one.”
“I have plenty of kilts, Sophie,” Lachlan said.
“But we ripped that one when we were out by the stables the other day…”
I snorted and Munroe coughed, covering a laugh.
“Must not have been a Ramsay kilt then. Ours are made of the highest quality. Meant to last through battle, lass.”
“Oh…” Sophie’s lips rounded as her eyes went to Lachlan. “Through battle, you say?”
“Darling, I don’t want Ramsay to skewer you with a pool cue.” Sophie shook her head, returning to her attempt to charm me into whatever it was that she wanted.
Which she would likely get because from what I’d learned so far, Sophie was an incredibly determined woman. She’d inherited MacAlpine Castle a little under a year ago, and in that time, she’d managed to not only neatly step into the role of owner, but she’d done innumerable good deeds for Loren Brae and a cracking marketing campaign to draw new tourists to the castle. She also managed to put up with Lachlan, and he’d never been happier, so that was extra points in my book for the lovely American who now danced around whatever she was trying to wheedle out of me.
“I do love a good skewering,” I said.
“Oh right, okay, soooooo, I couldn’t help but notice how busy your shop is, yet you don’t have any help.”
“No.” The last thing I needed was someone in my shop chattering at me all day long.
“You can’t keep doing business the way you are. I heard you turned the sign to closed for a parking lot full of customers.”
“And?”
“Ramsay! That’s a horrible business decision.”
“Those same customers came back the next day, didn’t they?”
“What are you? Playing hard to get with your kilts?”
“It’s a VIP experience.” I bent and took the shot, since it seemed Sophie wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Munroe swore under his breath as I pocketed the ball and straightened.
“It’s bad for business. If you had an intern, you’d be able to work on the kilts and they could handle the customer service. Just think…you wouldn’t have to talk to people anymore.”
That had me pausing. I tilted my head as I considered it.
“See? Wouldn’t that be nice? They could handle the phone calls, do intake forms, chat people up about what they want, and you’d only have to come out for measurements or whatever step of the process that you need to be there for.”
“It sounds like you’re implying that I’m not good at customer service, hen.”
“Um.” Sophie’s eyes darted to Lachlan’s, and she grit her teeth through a pained smile. “I wouldn’t say it’s your strong suit.”
“You just haven’t been around when I turn it on.” Pausing, I leaned over Sophie, putting one arm on the pool table behind her, and gave her a heavy-lidded look. Lowering my voice to a rasp, I moved a wee bit closer. “Is it a kilt you’re interested in, darling? I’ve got some of the best fabrics in the world. Soft as silk against your naked skin.”
“Oh.” Sophie’s eyes widened and she fanned her face. “Matthew would faint.”
“That’s enough of that.” Lachlan hooked an arm through Sophie’s, pulling her away from me and shooting me a death glare. I bit back a smile, amused at Sophie’s response, hoping I’d thrown her off track.
“I think you need a new kilt,” Sophie said to Lachlan, dazed, and I chuckled, turning back to the pool table. Taking my shot, I won the game, causing Munroe to curse again as he handed me the winnings.
“I’m up next.” Lachlan stepped forward and put twenty quid on the table.
“Fine by me. I enjoy taking your money, you posh bastard,” I said, dropping twenty over his.
“Posh? Like Posh Spice?” Sophie asked, twirling a lock of her strawberry-blond hair around her finger, derailed from her mission. Munroe laughed, sidling over to the table to examine the snacks Sophie had brought in.
“Exactly like Posh Spice. High-maintenance yet oddly loveable.” Munroe gestured with a small mince pie in his hand.
“I am not high-maintenance,” Lachlan protested, furrowing his brows.
We all went silent, Sophie included, and Lachlan’s mouth dropped open. Whirling on Sophie, he put a hand on his hip, the very picture of an angry diva. “You think I’m high-maintenance?”
“Of course not, baby. You’re just temperamental.” Sophie patted his chest.
“Temperamental? Was I the one stomping my foot a moment ago when she didn’t get what she came in here for?”
“Yes, but I’m American. We’re very loud with our emotions.”
At that, I outright laughed, loving Sophie for Lachlan. They were entirely too well matched, and their banter was top shelf.
“Whereas us Scots like to have small explosions of our emotions through the day. Very understated we are,” Munroe agreed.
“Except for Ramsay, I hear.” Sophie turned, narrowing in on me again, and I sighed. She wouldn’t leave us in peace until she got her way. “Didn’t you make a customer storm out the other day?”
“He wanted polyester and for the kilt to be made by the end of the week. I don’t do fast fashion.”
“So you made him cry?”
“I did not. That’s just Loren Brae overexaggerating the gossip.” Okay, there had been one tear, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Sophie.
“Again, if you had an intern, you wouldn’t have to deal with people.”
I sighed, putting my pool cue against the table, and turned, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Out with it. Tell me what you want so I can kick lover boy’s arse at pool.”
“Not likely,” Lachlan grumbled.
“It’s a two-part request. First, I want to bring someone in to intern at your shop, a person with a fashion background, who will then also partner with you to create an exclusive line of kilts and other tartan accessories for MacAlpine Castle’s shop.”
The last part piqued my interest. I obviously wasn’t going to let her shove an intern in my shop, but I would be interested in designing for the castle. I’d grown up playing in its gardens, running through the halls with Lachlan, and watching as tourists fell in love with our history. It would be an honor to design for the gift shop, knowing tourists could take a small part of its history home with them. Even better, knowing that I’d created it.
“Now you have my attention.” I tapped a finger against my lips as I thought about it. “What kinds of gifts for the shop? Nothing tacky, I hope?”
“I’d leave that to you. Not only do we have historical apparel on display that you can take inspiration from, but we also have boxes of old clothes preserved in storage. I’m sure you could find some ideas there.”
Now I was definitely intrigued. I loved the history of kilts and kiltmaking, which was a significant part of Scottish history. Telling me that she had a treasure trove of historical apparel was like offering a wee child the keys to a sweetie store.
“And this intern? Why?”
“We need help at the castle, and you need help at your store, no matter how much you try to deny it. It would be a win-win for everyone.” Something flashed behind Sophie’s eyes, and while I sensed she was telling me the truth, it felt like there was something else she was holding back.
“What’s the catch? You’ve got a look in your eyes.”
“No catch,” Sophie lied, radiating truth and honesty.
“Sophie, darling, you’re a shite liar.”
Sophie sighed and looked to Lachlan. He nodded.
“We need help with the Kelpies. This person can help.”
I froze. The Kelpies had increasingly become a problem in Loren Brae over the past few years, running people out of town and closing businesses. It was one of the reasons I’d decided to bring one of my shops back to Loren Brae. That and I wanted some peace and quiet from running my other locations. I’d grown up knowing, in the same way you know the sky is blue, that the Kelpies were as much a part of Loren Brae as MacAlpine Castle was. They’d been dormant for years, but now that they threatened the town again, everyone was trying to figure out a way to subdue them so the town could thrive once more. If Sophie said this intern could help in some way, then I had to believe her.
“Fine. Bring them through. But no talking before I’ve had coffee, and they don’t get to touch the music.”
“Understood.” Sophie leaned up to plant a kiss on my cheek before I could stop her and sailed from the room, happy now that she’d gotten what she’d wanted.
“How do you ever get your way living with that?” I grumbled to Lachlan.
“Och, lad. I don’t even try anymore. It’s much easier to give in.”
“You’re a wet lettuce.” I pointed at the table. “Play.”
“Maybe so, but I’m a deeply satisfied wet lettuce.”
“That’s an odd image.” Munroe cocked his head as he thought about it. “What does a satisfied lettuce look like?”
“I’d say your mother after I had a night with her, but it sounds like nothing warms the Ice Queen up.” I grinned at Munroe’s shocked look, before he threw his head back and laughed.
“I knew I’d like you,” Munroe said.
“I swear if this games night ends in us hugging and crying…” I shook my head.
“Only if we’re lucky,” Lachlan singsonged.
I sighed and bent to the table. “Prepare to get your arse handed to you, lad.”