"I didn't have a—Gran…You've been Photoshopping again, haven't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about.”My Scottish grandmother blinks sweetly."Though your friend Grayson is very helpful with modern technology."
"Where's Karina?"I ask, scanning the room again.
"Kitchen," Nadine answers, her Armenian accent lilting the word."Getting more wine.We drink much tonight.Your grandmother, she has many stories."
"I'm sure she does," I grunt, heading for the kitchen.
I find Karina standing at the counter, uncorking another bottle, grunting as she does.
She's changed since work—a simple blue dress has replaced her office attire, and she's let her hair down from its usual professional updo.
The effect is fucking devastating.
"I'm sorry," I say immediately.
She jumps, nearly dropping the bottle."Jesus!Make some noise when you sneak up on people."
"Scottish.We're naturally stealthy.It's the years of creeping through heather."
That earns me a reluctant smile."You missed quite the evening.Your grandmother started by showing everyone your Highland Games photos, moved on to baby pictures, and somehow ended up demonstrating proper whisky appreciation techniques on my mother's boyfriend."
"Dr.Finnegan survived this?"
"He not only survived, he brought out his own flask of 25-year-old Scotch.They're best friends now."
I lean against the counter."And how did you fare?"
"Oh, I've been thoroughly interrogated.Fiona has a surprisingly detailed knowledge of marketing degrees and corporate hierarchies."The look on her face—showing a glimmer of unease."She asked a lot of questions about Drake Communications."
"Ah.And?"
"And I talked about industry trends and campaign metrics until her eyes glazed over."She shrugs, but there's tension in her shoulders."Standard deflection tactics."
"Very strategic."
"I learned from the best."She gestures toward the dining room."Your grandmother is a master."
"Speaking of masters," I say, "I should probably rescue everyone from whatever schemes she's hatching out there."
Karina follows me back to the dining room, where Fiona has apparently moved on to a new form of entertainment.
"And this," my grandmother is saying, holding up a hand-knitted tea cozy, "came from a lovely woman in Aberdeen.Note the excellent likeness."
The tea cozy, I realize with dread, features my face knitted onto the body of a Highland warrior, complete with claymore sword and historically inaccurate six-pack abs.
"The detail work around the eyes is quite impressive.”Dr.Finnegan leans forward to examine it."The jawline is perhaps a bit exaggerated."
"Not according to the internet," Susanna quips, earning a snort from Charlie without looking up from her phone.
"Callum!"Fiona beams at me."Just in time.I was showing everyone my fan mail."
"Fan mail," I repeat flatly.
"Oh yes.Ever since your viral moment, I've been receiving the most delightful correspondence."She produces an envelope with a flourish."This one's my favorite.The Scottish Heritage Society has invited me to judge their 'Grandmother of the Year' contest.Apparently, raising a 'specimen of Scottish manhood' like yourself qualifies me for special consideration."
"Fascinating."I take the empty seat next to Karina, who's biting her lip to keep from laughing."Perhaps we could discuss something else?Anything else?"
