Page 56 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“Admin, likely. Answering emails. Speaking with clients. There’s a lot of hand-holding and I want to make sure the clients feel heard and we’re nailing their vision.”

“Would a good customer service manager be able to answer some of those questions? It might not be everything, but at the very least they could run interference and maybe provide a tailored list of questions for you at the end of the day?”

“That…that would be good. A lot of my time is spent responding to texts or emails that ping my phone.”

“You’re too available.”

A hint of a smile came to Orla’s lips. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“If you don’t mind sharing some numbers, I might be able to create a budget for you based on recommended software programs and potential salaries for an admin person. Would that help?”

Orla leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, and looked at me.

“Are you doing this because you feel bad for me?” Hereyes were wary, her shoulders hunched. She reminded me a touch of a wounded animal.

“Why would I feel bad for you? Other than your taste in Caley Thistle.”

“What?” Orla’s eyes rounded and she whirled to see her jersey hanging on a hook by the door. “They’re a great football team.”

“If you like losing.”

“We’re Scottish, it’s a rite of passage,” Orla grumbled, and I threw back my head and laughed.

“True enough.”

“Seriously though…why are you trying to help? Is it because of what happened? I’m fine, you know. It isn’t a big deal.”

Exposing someone’s past in a room with two hundred people was certainly not nothing, but I kept my tone light.

“Do you not like when people offer to help?”

“I can’t say it’s my favorite, no.”

“But we’re friends. And I love this stuff. Indulge me.” I held my hand out to the table and waited until Orla sighed and leaned forward, plopping a book into my hand.

“I can’t believe this is exciting for you.”

“Never have I been more turned on. A beautiful woman and business ledgers? I’m in paradise here, Orla.”

Orla’s cheeks flushed, the curse of a redhead, I supposed, but I loved seeing it because I knew she was affected by my words. She smiled into her tea, not meeting my eyes, and I bit back a grin. I knew I had to take this slow with her, so I’d savor what moments I could that brought a smile to her face.

An hour later, I had a tidy list of to-dos for Orla to lookover. She’d largely kept quiet, working on her own tasks, but did answer any questions I had as I reviewed some of her larger pain points. It was cozy, working in this space, and I was deeply relaxed by the time I handed her my list.

“This is just a start. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” I leaned close to the notepad as she looked it over, her shoulder brushing mine. “See here? I’ve separated things by top recommendations as well as by potential budget as well as heavy lifting needed to execute the task. That way you can evaluate which one you want to tackle first based on budget or time restraints.”

“This is smart.” Orla nibbled her lower lip as she read the list, nodding in agreement. “And really useful. Thanks, Fin.”

“Of course. Once you’ve gotten through this, I’ll have a look and offer you the next level of recommendations.”

“I’ll pay you a consulting fee, of course.” Orla looked up at me as I brushed a finger across her cheek, tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear.

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Orla demanded.

“Because I don’t want to introduce that type of element into our relationship.”

“We don’t have a relationship, Fin.” Orla glared at me, leaning back and away from me. Luckily it wasn’t far, being a love seat and all.

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