“For heaven’s sake, Gran.I’m not adjusting my kilt.”I immediately stop fidgeting with the wool pleats."I'm making sure everything is properly situated."
"The kilt is fine.”She straightens the sporran with the authority of a woman who's been dressing Highland men for eight decades."It's your face that needs adjusting.You look like you're facing a firing squad rather than hosting a party."
"I'm perfectly calm," I insist, despite the small velvet box burning a hole in my sporran.
"Of course you are.That's why you've rearranged the champagne glasses four times and checked your watch fourteen times in the past hour."
Before I can defend myself, Connor arrives with Ariana, both dressed as Greek gods.
Zeus and Hera, judging by the lightning bolt and peacock feathers.
"The kilt lives!"Connor announces, clasping my shoulder."I thought we'd never see this legendary garment in person."
"You've seen me in a kilt at least a dozen times," I remind him."Including at your own engagement party."
"Yes, but not since you became an international thirst trap," Ariana points out with the clinical accuracy that makes her an excellent PR strategist."This is like seeing a celebrity outfit in person."
"Could we please," I sigh, "just for tonight, pretend that my traditional cultural attire hasn't been fetishized by the entire internet?"
"Where's the fun in that?"Luke appears with a glass of whisky, which he presses into my hand."Besides, the memorial plaque demands historical accuracy."
The plaque in question—that ridiculous bronze monstrosity Connor and Luke presented at our family dinner—has indeed been installed in my office.
Not in the Abernathy Corp lobby as they'd suggested, but prominently enough that visitors inevitably comment on it.
"Has Karina arrived yet?"Connor asks, scanning the gathering crowd of guests.
"She's coming with her sisters," I explain, checking my watch again."They had some last-minute costume adjustments."
Luke and Connor pass significant look that immediately puts me on alert.
"What?"I demand.
"Nothing," Luke says, unconvincingly innocent."Just wondering when you're going to make honest woman of her."
"Excuse me?"
"It's been three months," Connor points out."You've already moved your permanent residence to Seattle.You're selling your place in Edinburgh."
"And you bought that ridiculous pomegranate pendant," Grayson adds, joining our growing circle of interfering friends."Which was clearly a pre-engagement gift."
"I'm beginning to question the wisdom of inviting any of you," I mutter.
"You love us," Alex assures me, completing the ambush."And we love seeing you actually happy for once, instead of obsessing over acquisition strategies and security protocols."
"I still obsess over those things.”My jaw clenches.“I’m just more efficient now."
"Because you're not fighting your personal life anymore," Grayson says with the serene wisdom of a newly married man."Admit it—being with Karina has made you better at everything else."
He's right, though I'm reluctant to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
Since embracing this relationship, I've found myself more focused professionally, more present personally, and more at peace with the parts of my life I can't control.
"The question remains," Luke says, returning to their original interrogation, "why haven't you proposed properly yet?You clearly intend to."
I glance around to ensure we're not overheard."I'm waiting for the right moment."
"Like what?"Connor presses."A business merger?Quarterly earnings?Retirement?"
