"Don't be ridiculous.”My mother scoffs."He's my doctor.That's all."
"Right," I agree, exchanging another look with Viktoria as she mutters, “Just like Callum Abernathy is just Katrina’s boss.”
"Speaking of your handsome boss," my mother redirects, "Dr.Finnegan mentioned treating the 'Highland Lad' last week.Said he was 'a proper gentleman, despite the American newspapers making him out to be some kind of kilt-wearing casanova.'"
My heart slams in my chest.“You discussed my boss with your doctor?"
"He brought it up!”She exclaims.“Said it was a small world, Seattle.Then showed me that beer can with the silhouette."
"Oh god."
"I told him my daughter works very closely with Mr.Abernathy."The emphasis on 'very closely' is subtle but unmistakable.
"Professionally.”I refocus on rolling grape leaves around the rice mixture."We work together professionally."
"Of course, dear."My mother pats my cheek in a way that suggests she believes exactly none of that."Now, let me help with dinner.Your dolma is good, but mine is better."
She gently nudges me aside, taking over the grape leaf rolling with elegant ease—arthritis be damned.
I pour the broth for the dish, settling into the comfortable rhythm of cooking alongside her.
Until my phone explodes with notifications.
"Popular today?"Viktoria comments as I check the screen.
"What the—" I stare at a cascade of alerts from an app I don't recognize."What is 'FindYourKiltedMatch'?"
Viktoria grabs her own phone, typing rapidly."Looks like a new dating app...oh my god."
"What?"
"It's a dating platform for women seeking men with, and I quote, 'Abernathy-esque qualities.'"She starts laughing."There's a whole matching algorithm based on the qualities fans think make Callum attractive."
“You guys, this isn't funny…”
"It's a little funny," my mother says, peering at Viktoria's screen."Look at those categories!'Scottish Ancestry: Not Required But Preferred.''Must Look Good In Formal Wear.''Ability To Throw Telephone Poles A Plus.'"
"Why am I getting notifications?"I demand.
Viktoria scrolls further."Because you've been invited to judge their 'Men in Kilts' charity calendar competition as, wait for it, 'the woman who discovered Seattle's hidden Scottish treasure.'"
"I did not discover him!"I sputter."I work for him!"
"The internet has spoken," Viktoria says, voice lowering."You're the Kilted Whisperer now."
My mother cackles, a sound so unexpected I temporarily forget my mortification."My daughter, the discoverer of handsome Scottish men.This is why you went to college."
"Mom!"
"What?I'm just saying, at forty-one, it's nice to see you with options."She continues rolling dolma, casual as can be."The last one didn't work out, but this one seems better built."
"We are not discussing Callum Abernathy's...construction," I mutter."Also, there is no 'this one.'There is no 'one' at all."
My phone buzzes again, this time with a text from Callum himself:Need to show you something.New development.Car downstairs in 20.
"Speak of the devil," I murmur, showing Viktoria.
"On a Saturday?Ohhh-kay.Must be important."
