One More for Christmas(75)
He smiled. “I think you could make a person fall in love with any place you wanted them to love. Which is good news for me. I’m grateful you’re willing to spin that magic of yours over our little patch of the Scottish Highlands.”
“I don’t think it’s going to take much work to turn this place into something magical.”
“No?” He took a mouthful of his drink and then set his glass down. “So what do you think so far?”
“I’m excited.” She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket. “I made a few notes when we were in the car, and I know we still have plenty to see, but I’m already in love with the place and I know others will feel the same.”
“What if we let people book rooms and they don’t get on well?”
“I think the way forward may be to offer exclusive hire to individual parties. It would be lucrative and less disruptive for you. We can sell it as an intimate, authentic experience living as part of a Scottish family.”
“Fights and moods included?”
She laughed. “I suggest we make those an optional extra.”
“Exclusive groups. Won’t that be expensive?”
“Yes, but there are people who will pay well for something special that they can’t experience elsewhere. And they can’t experience what you’re offering here. We’d need to refine it of course, but your basic offering is unbeatable.”
“On the strength of that, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“No, lunch is on me.” Samantha glanced at the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“It’s all good, but the burger is the best you’ll ever eat.”
“Well, that’s a challenge I can’t refuse.”
He stood up. “Soak up the atmosphere while I’m gone.”
She did as he suggested, glancing from the crackling log fire to the pictures on the stone walls. There were black-and-white photos of mountains, of the pub itself through the decades, framed newspapers and an old pair of wooden skis. She was surrounded by laughter and conversation, the atmosphere warm and welcoming.
She pulled out her phone and checked her emails while she was waiting, surprised to have a good signal.
She had a bunch of emails from Charlotte that she swiftly dealt with, and a few from clients, thanking her and sending her photos from their travels.
“What did Kyle say when you eventually talked to him?” Brodie sat back down at the table. “Did he rise to the challenge? Show up at your office, whisk you away to the nearest five-star hotel and pop open a bottle of champagne?”
She should have felt defensive, but it seemed she’d moved past that with this man. Her inner and outer self had merged, temporarily at least.
“None of that.” She put her phone on the table. “And I didn’t say everything I said to you. Saying it wasn’t easy and I guess I lost my nerve.”
“But you still broke up.”
“Yes. I mumbled something about busy lives, and different priorities—blah, blah.”
“So everything but the truth.”
She shrugged. “I ended it. The ‘why’ didn’t matter in the end.” She broke off as their food arrived.
“There you go, Prof. That should boost the brain cells.” The chef put the food on the table, winked at Samantha and headed back to the kitchen.
“Prof?”
“It was my nickname at school.” Brodie shook salt over his bowl of fries. “I could tell you that it was because I was the best and brightest in my class, but as we’re being honest here I’m going to confess that they called me Prof because I wore wire-rimmed glasses that were invariably bent out of shape. That’s why I moved on to something more substantial.”
And they suited him. Ella was right about that. Those dark frames against his light eyes—
She took a mouthful of burger to distract herself and nodded approval. “You didn’t lie. This is good.”
“Yes. People battle snow and ice to eat these burgers.” He took a bite. “Did you and Kyle date for long?”
“A year.”
He raised his eyebrows. “A year is a long time to be with someone who doesn’t excite you.”
She put the burger down. “There are other things that matter, too. Mutual interests. Reliability.” Safety. But she didn’t say that one aloud. It embarrassed her to admit that she was afraid. Afraid of feeling too much. Afraid of being hurt. In everything else she was the strong big sister, but not in this. When it came to love and emotions, Ella was fearless. She opened her arms and her heart, here I am, come and break me.
“You can get those things if you join a hiking group or a book group.”
“What do you know about book groups?”
“I know they can end a relationship.” He gave a quick smile. “The woman I was seeing insisted that I join her at her book club. She thought I needed to broaden my reading. She was constantly substituting my crime fiction and biographies for literary fiction.”
“You went to the book group?”
“Me and ten women.” He took another bite of his burger. “Sounds better than it was.”
“It didn’t go well?”
“Well, there was wine—” he shrugged “—so that part was fine. But then we had to talk about the book. Which I was alone in hating, and alone in admitting to hating. Apparently, I should have kept my views to myself. I embarrassed her.” He finished his fries.