Ronnie glanced at me, releasing Roka reluctantly. “It’s just, I don’t think I’ll ever get over today.”
I really needed to extract Roka before she called security.
However, she’d clearly met her fair share of Ronnies.
“Before you go, let’s snap a selfie,” Roka told him. “Do you have your phone?”
She was a pro, and Ronnie almost levitated with joy. Then Eliza and I took Roka on a tour of the factory, where she shook every hand, posed for countless photos, and said all the rightthings. Once she’d spoken to the media about her upcoming single, ‘It’s About Time’, we brought her back to our reception lounge, where Sasha was waiting. Roka kissed her as soon as she saw her.
“You two are official now, I assume?” Roka asked, snaking her arm around Sasha’s waist.
I nodded, recalling that first kiss in that Brooklyn bar. Roka had been there from the start.
“Eliza bought a cottage, got a new job up here, and I moved in. We’re now Highland lesbians, and very much together.” I threaded my fingers through Eliza’s to prove the point. Nothing had ever felt so right.
Showing she was thinking the same thing, Eliza kissed my cheek.
Roka beamed our way. “It’s about time.”
It’d only taken us two decades.
“Talking of which: what time is the party tonight? I met Fiona when I arrived. How cool is that woman?”
“The party will get going after work. And yes, Fiona is the absolute best. Way cooler than her son, Ronnie, who is not normally such a fanboy,” I said.
Roka grinned. “He was fine. And if I didn’t already have a mom, I’d want Fiona to adopt me.”
I laughed. “My sister and I are already in the queue.”
Hours later, the party room at the factory complex was a mass of people all drinking, chatting and eating the delicious food prepared for us by the local deli. Eliza had got a good deal because she was on first-name terms with the entire village. Living with her was like living with a local celebrity. In Goldloch, Roka’s star was totally eclipsed.
I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing tray, and walked up behind Eliza, who was chatting to Margot and Max.They were staying at the pub, but were due for dinner at Loch Cottage tomorrow night. Our first dinner guests as a couple.
“Great turnout. You must treat your staff very well. Everyone seems happy.” Max gave the room an appreciative glance.
“You should take a leaf out of our books, Dad,” Eliza told him, with a wink.
He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “That’s up to Alicia now. I told you I promoted her and she’s in interim charge? She’s doing a good job, too. Soon, my life won’t be appeasing staff. It’ll be whisking my future wife on exciting adventures and working on my golf handicap.”
Eliza shot me a look, and my gaze went to Margot’s ring finger. Sure enough, there was a large rock on it.
“When did this happen?” I pulled Margot into a bruising hug, and she looked the most bashful I’d ever seen her.
“Last week. We didn’t want to make a fuss to upstage your big party and Roka being here. But Max has brought some vintage champagne up with us, so perhaps we could pop it tomorrow night?”
This softer, more vulnerable version of Margot was going to take some getting used to, but I was here for it.
I reached over and shook Max’s hand. “Congratulations. Do we need the traditional ‘treat my aunt well or else’ conversation?”
Max laughed, his smile accompanied by a certain sparkle. He was a catch, and no mistake. Just like his daughter. “She’s already given me her minimum expectations of a husband. I’ve promised to study them well.”
Eliza hugged them both. “So long as you don’t want me to be a bridesmaid, I’m delighted for you.”
Katy and Sage walked over with champagne in their hands, and we told them the news. I’d never seen Katy look so stunned.
“The woman who told me marriage was a patriarchal trap is getting married?” Katy shook her head. “I have to hand it to you, Max. You must have some sweet-talk to turn Margot’s head.”
Sage clinked my glass with her own. “Are you settled in okay? What a gorgeous place to live. Katy pointed out your cottage on the lake when we drove in, too. Quite a change from Hackney.”
