Page 81 of Lochlan

There's an ache in my gut that I've caused her pain, and it makes me desperate. I should stop this madness and turn to her to heal, but I can't because there's only one path for me if I want to be whole again. Telling her the truth would be the noble way out, but I'm nowhere near noble, so I offer a weak compromise. “Kenzie, this luncheon will be over in a few hours. Come to my apartment after and we'll talk.”

She searches my face a bit, considering my suggestion. I keep my features neutral, letting her decide on her own. She clicks her tongue in disgust, then trails away without a word or a backward glance.

* * *

The cleaning crewLayla hired is moving the benches and tables back to storage. There are still employees in small clusters lingering in good humor. Since they have delivered the prizes and appreciation speeches, I'm free to go back to my room.

The long, busy afternoon ends in a pale twilight as the solar-powered lights blink on. The rumble of cars leaving the parking lot is loud, even from here. I push open the door, grateful that I'm finally alone, and head for the comfort of my whiskey bottle. I twist off the top and don't bother looking for a glass. The long swig is the first of many I plan to take while I make my way to the wide picture window.

I sprawl onto the chair, christening the floor with drops from the bottle. I take another drag, but the relief the liquor promises isn't coming fast enough. How can I fix this shite when any choice I make has a far-reaching effect, like dominoes ready to fall? Who do I please or hurt? No matter what happens, there will be broken hearts and dreams strewn at my feet.

Twilight turns to darkness and I'm still in the chair with half a bottle and no closer to a solution. There's tapping at my door and, God help me, my spirits lighten when I think that it might be Kenzie. When I pull the door open, Fiona is staring at me with unhappiness molding her features. She doesn't request entry, just pushes past me into the apartment. She looks me up and down, the bottle still in my hand.

“You've been drinking since you left the luncheon?”

I bring the bottle up to my lips, then realize I'm being inhospitable, so I tilt the bottle towards her. “Would you like a drink?”

She fans a hand in front of her face, as if she's batting away something unpleasant. “No, you stink of the drink, and it's nauseating. I looked for you, waited, and finally sent you a text. Don't you look at your phone?”

I turn on my heel, walking back to my chair. “I was busy.”

She drags a chair next to mine. At this point, I don't care if she stays or goes. I'm in no mood to talk until I've had a proper think.

“Is this about Ian giving me control of the California operation?”

“That's only part—”

“So he's put me in charge, but it doesn't have to be that way. We can manage this together.”

“You mean with you managing and me the subordinate?”

She cuts her eyes to the dark vineyards beyond the window. “Does it matter? We'll be together, working in your family's business.”

“You're telling me you'd settle for me and the California operation?”

“I'm not settling; it might be my steppingstone to the headquarters in Scotland. If I do well, maybe even an executive position.”

“Was reuniting just a ploy to get control?”

“Reuniting is not a ploy. I love you. I want to pick up where we left off.”

“A few nights before we were to marry, I told you I wanted to leave the family business to see the world while I supported us by taking pictures. It horrified you when I told you of my plan.”

“The announcement surprised me, and I needed time to adjust. Your grandfather says we're all expected to contribute to the family business. I was afraid you were throwing away your future. I thought after we settled into married life and a few months of traveling, you'd want to come back and take your rightful place in the company with me by your side.”

“Fiona, I've been thinking about the interview today. We're not well known here. It was only supposed to be a short segment announcing Catriona. You admitted you handled everything. Did you give Jillian Barry another angle on the story?”

“What if I did? Everything that was given to her in our bios was true.”

“Aye, until she got to the part that we've reunited.”

“Lochlan, we are back together, and we're working on the California operation.”

“No, no.” I raise a hand to stop more lies from spewing out. “You made it sound like we were going to get married and that's not true. We haven't decided anything.”

“That's how this story ends. You haven't fooled anyone with that carbon copy of me that's parading around as your girlfriend. That volleyball-playing fake Scot is a cry that you want the real thing. I'm here now, so we can stop all the pretend.”

I set the bottle that I've been clutching all this time on the floor next to me. Nothing has changed about Fiona and I can't believe that I was softening toward her.

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