Page 16 of Wild Scottish Fortune

Wow, I was just full of mistruths today, wasn’t I? It wasn’t like me to fumble out so many excuses and now I needed to retreat. Or do something to make up for it.

“Uh-huh,” Orla said, clearly not believing me.

“Listen, since it is for charity and I happen to like dogs, irrespective of their messy fur, I’ll donate one thousand pounds to your shelter. In turn, I’d love for you to be my date to the gala, and I’ll see about Munroe arranging a dress shopping date for you and Lia. Does that suit? You’ve met Lia, right?”

“Aye, she’s great. A thousand pounds, eh? That would be just enough to get the shelter what they need. I can’t possibly say no to that. Sure, Mr. Thompson. I’ll be your date.”

I pinched my nose and sighed.

“Can you please call me Finlay?”

“Is it a requirement of my fake date?” Orla arched a brow at me.

“Yes,” I said, not caring if it was or not.

“Fine,Finlay. The dogs will thank you.”

With that, Orla turned and pulled out her tape measure and carpenter’s pencil, dismissing me.

“I’ll send you the details regarding the dress and all that.” Munroe had given the both of us each other’s numbers in case of any issues that would arise on-site, but I’d yet to message Orla with any questions. Apparently, nowI had to arrange a personal shopper. Retreat was my only option at this point.

“Great, thanks.” Orla was already marking the wood and making notes in a wee notebook, and I stepped out, feeling as awkward as a teenager who’d spoken to his crush for the first time.

How the hell was I going to find a personal shopper?

Annoyed, I went back outside and took out my phone.

“Hi, Willow? Yes, I need your help.”

CHAPTER SIX

Orla

Agala.

By the time I’d finished my work, early, because apparently I needed to partake in a magickal ritual, I’d managed to work my head around the idea of going to an actual gala. Well, sort of. I needed to find Lia and ask a million questions about protocol. I didn’t know about proper manners when it came to fancy table settings or if I needed to do certain dance steps. Would I have to curtsy to someone? I didn’t even know if I could curtsy. It was those details that were worrisome to me, not the idea of spending time with Finlay.

It was fun to ruffle his feathers.

I couldn’t help but poke at him, just to see his smooth exterior crumble. He was the type of man that exuded confidence, his charisma filling a room, and it made me feelbetter to see a few cracks in the carefully erected façade he wore.

Barking pulled me from my thoughts, and I crouched as Lady Lola rounded the corner with Sir Buster at her side. Repeating the routine where Sir Buster pretended he didn’t want my affection, I rubbed Lady Lola down until she was writhing in ecstasy before scooping up an annoyed Sir Buster and continuing to the entrance of the castle. There, I found Archie pulling a weed by the doorstep. The older man was wearing dark jeans, a gray jumper, and had a knit cap pulled over his white hair. Bushy eyebrows lifted when he saw me.

“That’s a good lad then,” Archie said, nodding toward Sir Buster in my arms.

“He puts on a good act, but I know he wants cuddles.”

“He’s all bark.”

“I can understand that.” There were definitely similarities between Sir Buster’s diminutive size and his bluster, an act that I’d put on more than once in my life. Archie’s bushy eyebrows drew low over his forehead, and he gave me an assessing look.

He wasn’t a talkative man, but I suspected he didn’t miss much. The quiet ones usually didn’t.

“Are you ready for the ritual this afternoon?”

I shrugged, lifting my hands lightly in the air. I’d worn my newest overalls to work today, a black pair that I’d added some flair to with bright pink stitching at the leg cuffs, and my goldfish badge at my collar. How did one get ready for a ritual? The word alone made me think I was about to start spitting blood before my head rotated in a circle on my shoulders.

“I have no idea how to answer that.”

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