Page 40 of Wild Scottish Beauty

Sparkles flashed as a ray of sun shot through the window, illuminating the curve of Willow’s bum, and I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, making a mental note to address dress code. Sparkles were definitely out.

“This place is fabulous, Ramsay. Oh just look.” Willow all but cooed as she reached up to trail a finger along the raw edge of the rough-hewn shelves holding a few folded scarves. “This wood is fabulous. I mean, the ambience here is incredible. It hits all the right notes, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

“One hundred percent it does. These gorgeous stone walls, the wood beams, and you haven’t cluttered the space up too much. Just the chairs by the fire, a few kilts on display.” Willow whirled around, a smile on her lips. “It really gives the customer a feel like they’re getting a custom experience, doesn’t it? They’re coming here to see an artist at work, to have something tailored to their tastes, not just to grab something off a rung and try it on in the back. With the window showing the loch as the backdrop and all this stone and wood and careful lighting … oh yeah, you’ve outdone yourself. I even like that you decided to leave the floors bare. It’s nice, isn’t it, to hear your soles on the hardwood floor.”

Willow demonstrated the sound by strutting across the floor, her hips swinging, and I swallowed a silent groan. What had I done to deserve this torture? I could have mypick of women if I so chose, couldn’t I? Why did I have to suddenly be smitten with one woman who was decidedly unavailable to me? In so many ways.

My lack of sleep and earlier annoyance heightened, and I growled at her.

“It’s not a runway.”

“It could be though. Just enough room for a good strut and a fabulous turn.” Willow stalked across the room, modeling a perfect runway walk, and flipped her hair as she pivoted at the door, and stomped back before striking a pose right in front of me.

She looked incredible.

“When you’re done playing maybe we can get to work?”

“Oh, yes, boss.” Willow saluted me, clicking her boots together for emphasis, a cheeky sparkle in her eyes. “What’s the plan for today? Are we designing or am I interning?”

“Interning. I have two appointments, so I’ll teach you that process, then we can go through intake, ordering, and customer service.”

“Wow, a whole two appointments? Keeping yourself busy, aren’t ya, Ramsay?” Willow winked at me.

“I find my tolerance for people ends after two appointments. Don’t schedule more than that in a day for me. And I don’t allow walk-ins.”

“You don’t…” Willow trailed off as I turned, tucking the laptop under my arm, and crossed to a large desk in the corner. I nodded to the chair in front, and took the leather armchair behind, taking a moment as I reopened the laptop, and hit Spotify. There, I selected my rock playlist of the day, and an edgy guitar riff from Greta Van Fleet came through the hidden speakers.

“Greta, nice.” Willow nodded her approval. “Okay, wait, why don’t you allow actual customers in the store? It looks like you have a few things that they could buy on site if they wanted.”

“A scarf or two. It’s a custom experience, Willow. Everything should be selected, made, and tailored directly for the client.”

“And someone coming in off the street can’t have that experience?” Willow stuck her nose in the air. “How rudelyPretty Womanof you.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying to me.”

“What? Oh come on. You have to have seenPretty Woman. You know the scene where the fancy rich people won’t serve Julia Roberts in their fancy rich store? She walked in off the street, and they looked down their noses at her?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I certainly don’t look down my nose at anyone.” I looked down my nose at her, and Willow grinned.

“You sure about that, boss?”

“Stop calling me boss.”

“Fine. Partner?”

“Ramsay will do.”

“Ramsay it is then.” Willow reached for her bag while I groaned internally. My name rolled across her tongue like a lover’s murmur, and I berated myself for being an idiot. Boss wasmuchmore impersonal. Willow brandished a notepad and pen. “I’m ready to take notes. Why don’t yourun me through a typical day, and I’ll try not to piss you off too much while you do so.”

“Good luck with that.”

“I don’t doubt it. Seems most things annoy you.” And yet, that fact didn’t seem to bother Willow as she hummed along with the music thumping in the background.

“Then why do you want to work here?” Curiosity got the better of me.

“Why not? An opportunity to learn at the hands of a master kiltmaker—albeit a very surly one—is not something to pass up.”

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