Page 49 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said automatically, picking up on some sort of tension that bounced between the two. Was it grief? Or something else?

“Yes, well, we must carry on, mustn’t we?”

“Mum, this is Orla Clarke. Orla, my mother, Sharon Thompson.”

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Thompson.” I nodded my head, even though a part of me wondered if I should curtsy. But she wasn’t the queen, was she? There was no need to curtsy.

“And you as well, Ms. Clarke. And how did you two meet?” The way she asked it seemed to suggest the answer would determine if she liked me or not.

“Orla is a business colleague of mine, Mum.”

“Is that right? You’re a businesswoman, are you?” Sharon’s eyes sharpened in a way that I didn’t like, and I opened my mouth to lie, but I caught a glimpse of green over Sharon’s shoulder.

The Green Lady. She was here, gliding through the ballroom, leaving a trail of people glancing around as a draft of cold air drifted past them. Most never saw her, but many could feel her presence. She stopped behind Sharon, lifting her chin and crossing her arms across her chest, meeting my eyes. A proud stance.

Don’t hide yourself from anyone, Orla. You’ve worked hard for what you’ve accomplished.

“I am.” I tore my eyes away from the Green Lady and smiled widely at Sharon. “I’m also a builder. I run my own construction firm, Clarke Construction, and we’re working on the buildout for Common Gin’s new distillery in Loren Brae.”

Sharon recoiled, ever so slightly, but enough that I caught it. Something flickered behind her eyes, and I knew I’d been instantly judgedand dismissed.

The Sharonsof this world and I did not mix. It was the first thought I’d had of Finlay, aside from noting how gorgeous he was, and now I understood why I’d had it. Even if he wasn’t anything like his mother, he still came from her, didn’t he?

That wasn’t fair, I reminded myself. We couldn’t judge others on the sins of their parents. Otherwise I wouldn’t have much to say for myself, would I?

“A builder. How…charming.” Sharon sniffed, lifting her chin and looking over my shoulder, a smile blooming. “I’m going to have to excuse myself here shortly. Duty calls and the Stuarts just came in.”

“Of course, Mum. We know how busy you are.” Finlay took a step back, turning and nodding at a well-dressed couple approaching.

“Orla…I can’t put my finger on it. You looksofamiliar. Did you replace our toilet in the downstairs bathroom?” Sharon said this a touch louder than one normally would as the couple came to a stop next to us. Interest bloomed on the woman’s face as she looked me up and down.

“No, Mum. She wouldn’t have replaced your toilet. She’s not a plumber. Orla does complicated high-level remodels for top businesses in the industry,” Finlay inserted, his arm coming lightly to my back. I allowed the touch, mainly because he was putting his mother in her place, and I smiled up at him, knowing it would annoy Sharon.

“Of course, I’m not sure where I’ve seen you before then.” Sharon turned, dismissing me, and held her hands out to the couple. “Darlings! So delighted you could make it.”

“Let’s refresh your drink.” Finlay tugged me away before we got swept into another conversation, even though my drink was still full.

“She’slovely.” I took a sip of my champagne, scanning the opulent ballroom, while forcing myself to keep my composure. It didn’t matter what anyone in this world thought of me. These weren’t my people.

I was just the help.

It was true, too, even if they paid highly for my services. At the end of the day, I was still just a builder completing a project for them and they’d never think twice about me again. I wouldn’t be rubbing shoulders with them at the club over the weekend or laughing with the wives while our husbands took a round of golf.

I barely had time to do my crochet projects and listen to my podcasts, both of which I dearly wished I could be doing at the moment.

“She’s a difficult woman who has become even more so after my father died in the arms of his mistress.”

“Oh.” I pressed my lips together again, lip liner be damned, and touched Finlay’s arm. His expression was stony. “That’s a tough blow.”

“It was. I … I lost more than my dad that day. I hated that he hadn’t been transparent with who he was as a person. It matters, you ken? And this image I’d had of him all along, well, it wasn’t real. And it shattered my mum. She’s much better at keeping up images. I guess transparency isn’t as important to her as it is to me. And now with no money to speak of, well, I’m stuck keeping her in the life she was accustomed to.”

“She doesn’t work?”

“She won’t work. I don’t think she’s ever tried.”

“Must be nice.” I blinked down at my glass, realizing I said that part out loud, and hastily put the glass on the bar. I would need to slow down on the alcohol if I was to get through this. I was a lightweight at best and I would need my wits about me to not shove my foot in my mouth repeatedly.

“For her, yes, I quite imagine it is.” Finlay shot me a wicked grin, and I warmed. “For me it’s annoying.”

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