Page 40 of Lochlan

“Liz, you can give them their tickets now they've officially checked in.”

The woman hands Geordie both tickets. He takes them from her and mumbles a thanks, then slips his hand under my elbow. “Come on, Kenzie, let's get some good seats for the show.” He guides me into the spacious tasting room. We're seen by the other guests, but no one comes up to greet us. I'm sure based on Geordie's attire they've guessed that we're from MacTavish. We settle on a table a few rows back from the podium. It's a good place to see the speaker as well as the room.

“Why didn't Lochlan come with you?” I ask.

He places our tickets on the table in front of us. “I had errands to run this morning. I told him I would meet him at the luncheon. He was that nervous when I met him. I think he wants to use the commute time to calm himself.”

The room begins to fill up with people talking in small groups. A tall man with gray hair approaches our table. “My name is Jeff. I'm the president of the association and the owner of Cherrywood Vineyards. Am I safe in assuming that you are from MacTavish Cellars?” he asks, directing his question to Geordie.

Geordie extends his hand. “I'm Geordie MacTavish, the winemaker at MacTavish Cellars, and this is Kenzie MacGregor, one of our associates.”

“Good to meet you both. We're just about to start and, after making the announcements, it will be Lochlan's turn to address the assembly. I haven't seen him; did he come with you?”

“We've all come separately. He's anxious to give his presentation. He will be here shortly.”

Jeff glances at his watch. “No need to panic right now. He has time and we've already set up his equipment. If you would be so kind as to let me know when he arrives, I would appreciate it.”

When Jeff is engaged with another group, I lean over to Geordie. “Why would Lochlan let some random person set up his equipment?” I whisper. “Do you think I should check it myself?”

“This is where you've chosen to seat our party?”

Geordie scrambles to his feet. Before I can register who has joined us at the table, Geordie throws his arms around a tall, wiry man with thick white hair and the mischief in his eyes of a much younger man. “Granda, glad to see you could make it.”

The man is also dressed in full Highland dress with the addition of an ebony walking stick. When Geordie releases him, I see the other guest, who must be Fiona.

“Fiona is with me.” She steps between the two men. Geordie offers no hug to the young woman. They clasp both hands, but the greeting Geordie gives her is reserved. She is beautiful with long, dark hair and brown, intelligent eyes. When the greeting is over, their attention turns to me.

“And who is this bonnie lass?” his grandfather asks, turning a wan smile to me.

“Granda, I want you to meet Mackenzie Athdara MacGregor. She's an associate in our wine tasting room.”

Once I get over the shock of Geordie using my full name, I extend my hand to Ian MacTavish. He grasps it and gives me a firm handshake. “With a name like that, you must surely be of Scottish descent.”

“My mother is a Mackenzie and my father is a MacGregor; both families are from Edinburgh. My middle name is from my great aunt on my father's side.”

He exudes a charming warmth as he releases my hand. “We will need to discuss your lineage when we have more time. I would like you to meet Fiona, my protégé. She's been working on special projects for MacTavish Distillery since she was an intern while still at university.”

I'm not certain, but it appears that Ms. Fiona is looking down her nose at me when I extend my hand. “It's nice to meet you.” Her tone is a bit condescending. “Are you enjoying working in the tasting room?”

“She has become an asset to us in a very short amount of time,” Geordie answers for me.

It's sweet that he's protective, but I can speak for myself. “I'm enjoying the tasting room and hope to be more proficient under Geordie and Lochlan's tutoring.”

A smile she tosses at me is a promise that we'll speak again.

“We are about to start the meeting,” Jeff announces from the podium. “If you'll take your seats, we'll begin.”

In an Old World gesture, Geordie and Ian pull out the chairs for Fiona and me. The courtesy catches the attention of the other women in the room, who watch with envy while the men dismiss it as a custom that's not American. For me, I love the gallantry of these Scottish men toward their women.

Geordie, Ian, and Fiona talk casually while I make furtive glances at the door, wondering when Lochlan will arrive. I excuse myself, saying I want to change my meal ticket to beef. Geordie offers to make the exchange for me, but I slip out of my chair, heading for the exit before he can insist.

The table where the women were checking guests has been abandoned; they are inside the meeting listening to the speaker. From where I'm standing, I can see the parking lot through a window at the far side. There's no sign of Lochlan. I check my cell, scrolling through texts, but there's nothing. I glance back at the opening to see Jeff. I can hear his voice from where I'm waiting.

“That concludes our new business and all announcements. Does anyone have any additions to the agenda or questions?” Jeff asks. The assembly responds with murmurs; no one speaks up.

My phone zips with a text from Lochlan.

I'm on the highway, caught behind a truck that's overturned. Cannot exit at this time. Please cancel the presentation.

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