Page 44 of Lochlan

The house manager gives Ian a slight nod, then strides toward the door. Ian walks to the drinks cart and splashes whiskey into two tumblers. Lochlan takes the glasses and hands one to me.

These samplings of MacTavish whiskey are the only time I've tasted quality spirits. I'm enjoying the taste until I notice everyone's gaze is on me, waiting for my opinion. I give a genuine smile to my audience. “I've never had anything so wonderful to drink.”

Ian's head snaps back as he gives a hearty guffaw. “I think we may have a new customer. Shlàinte,” he says, tipping his glass to me, and brings the tumbler to his lips.

“Slàinte agad-sa,” I say.

He stops before taking a drink. “Do you know the Gaelic, lass?”

“Some; my mother is a linguistics professor in Edinburgh.”

His eyes narrow. “Is your mother's name Dina?”

I'm surprised that he knows my mother's name. Could he have done an Internet search? “Yes, Dina Mackenzie-MacGregor.”

“I thought so. I tried to place you before, but now I see the resemblance. You look like your mother. I've met her, and your father as well. Edinburgh is a wee town; well, it is to me. I know anyone of some importance, and that's what makes it a tight community. I met them when we were younger. They came to the residence a few times over the years for parties, but I'd not seen them in ages. I lost contact when Dina moved to America with your father. Are they both well?”

“They are very well. Both will be here for the Christmas holiday.”

Ian turns to look out at the garden, drinking deeply from his glass, maybe reliving nostalgia with his old friends. “Remember me to your parents when you see them next.”

I nod and take another sip, not sure if I should ask about their relationship. The times that I was in Scotland, I don't remember being taken to a grand house.

“Granda,” Geordie says, breaking the melancholy, “do you have an agenda for this weekend, or are we to find our own entertainment?”

The mischief returns to his eyes. “Now, that wouldn't be me if I didn't plan something for your amusement. It has been almost three years since we enjoyed Christmas together. I know we're still days away from the holiday and I plan to be back at home on Christmas Day. While I'm here, I want to enjoy part of the season with my two grandsons and revive some of our traditions.”

“Which traditions did you have in mind?” Lochlan asks.

“Nothing too extreme. I would like to take a walk, eat together, and remember people who are not with us. What I miss most is our hunting trips. I've asked friends to come with me, but it isn't the same as when the four of us were together. Aubrey tells me there's a walking trail beyond the garden. I'd like to talk business before we make that trek. After our discussion, a walk might be a pleasant reflection. This house has a small conference room. Let's go there now and talk.”

The room is a dark, wood-paneled boardroom. Ian takes his seat at the head of the table while Fiona and I are seated the closest to him, me on his right, Fiona on his left. Lochlan is next to me, and Geordie sits next to Fiona.

“I'd like to discuss the Catriona project. We all had time to reflect on the presentation and the additional information Lochlan provided. Does anyone have any thoughts?”

I had no idea I would be allowed to attend a family board meeting. This is a huge privilege to be allowed to see inside the workings of an old, successful family business. I temper my enthusiasm to match the strained faces around me.

“I'll start,” Fiona says. “The concept of the project is sound, but the presentation was lacking depth. There were elements of the project that should have been stressed even in this early stage.” She directs her comment to Ian, while Lochlan's face goes dark.

“Why would you say the presentation lacked depth?” Lochlan asks.

“No offense to Kenzie, but the presentation should have been created by a professional.”

Something told me I'd have to watch this witch. Too many alarm bells went off when I met her. So, Ms. Fiona Fucking Protégé has decided to draw blood early and publicly. I direct my response to Fiona. “I'm an outsider, but I will defend my work. I ran the presentation by marketing execs in two top-tier companies; they would have pointed out any weaknesses.”

“Have any of these companies sold wine or spirits?”

Lochlan places a hand over mine to stop my response. “You think you could have done better?” Lochlan asks, giving a quick challenge.

“I could have arranged for better,” she quips back. The two are engaged in a death stare, something that appears to be an old battle between them.

“As I understand it,” Geordie says, cutting through the tension, “the presentation to the Wine Association was a dry run. The next meeting will be with serious investors. If there were problems with the presentation, this gives us time to correct what's not working. But I was there. I saw the reaction of the audience, and I thought Kenzie did a great job.”

We glance at Ian for an opinion. He shifts in his seat, considering. “I will admit that Kenzie did an excellent presentation, but this is Lochlan's project and he should guide it from beginning to end and not rely on others to present his ideas. Any problems lie squarely on his shoulders.”

Lochlan stiffens as if someone had thrown a gauntlet down in front of him. “Is this really the true topic of conversation, or am I being given reasons why Fiona will take my place?”

Ian is clearly not accustomed to his motives being questioned; he rests his exacting gaze on his grandson. “We are here to discuss an important project.” This is delivered as a cold truth. “This is how the family has always done business. If there is any change of personnel, that will be my decision, and I don't need to give a reason.” He turns his steely attention to Fiona. “Geordie is right; we can fix issues at this stage. Don't give me vague generalities; your concerns must be specific.”

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