Theo chuckled. “I never offer to do something I don’t want to do. And I rarely offer twice. This is an excellent premise. It has a compelling hook, an interesting cast of characters. I’d be a fool not to jump on it.”
Laughing, I wiped away my tears. “I would love to work with you on this. Thank you.”
“Good.” He slapped his hands on his thighs. “Why don’t we have a coffee and talk about that beginning. I have a suggestion.”
“Of course. Great. Yes.”
Theo shot me a droll look as he stood up. “I suggest you curb your enthusiasm to agree with me. It has a tendency to inflate my ego. Just ask my wife.”
So ecstatic I could burst, I bit my lip against more laughter. Despite Jasper, despite everything negative that had come from the industry I’d grown up in … I was excited to return to it in this capacity. To do something that I’d conjured from my own mind and experiences.
Something I could be truly proud of.
To tell stories… but to do it without leaving behind the people who mademystory worthwhile.
Thirty-Eight
EILIDH
When Theo Cavendish decided he wanted to do something, he was like a snowball with GPS, rolling downhill but only picking up the people he needed before rolling on to pick up the next person.
Within two weeks, he had his usual team signed off and on board, and we were already pitching the show to several streaming platforms. Between that and dealing with the legal stuff regarding Jasper and Peter Pryor, it had been a full-on couple of weeks.
Fyfe had suggested we take a day off and give Millie her first road trip. As a child, there was nothing I loved more than day trips with my parents. I loved the drive, the scenery, the family time, and we usually stopped off somewhere great to eat. Millie was too young to appreciate that, but I was excited to spend the day with two of my favorite people.
We took Fyfe’s Volvo SUV because even though I’d fitted a car seat into my G-Wagon, Millie preferred the one in Fyfe’s. I had it on order for my vehicle because she fussed a lot whenever we tried to buckle her into the one I had now. The boot was full of supplies for Millie and a large picnic basket with sandwichesand snacks from Morag’s Deli and a treat or two from Callie’s Wee Cakery.
I eagerly strapped myself into the passenger seat and felt like a wee girl again going on a family trip.
Fyfe sensed my excitement as he got comfortable in the driver’s seat. He wore his black framed glasses today, along with a Kings of Leon T-shirt and jeans. He looked so sexy I could lick him. All over. “We ready?”
I resisted the urge to jump him and nodded. “Let’s hit the road, Jack.”
We’d decided to take a road trip through the county and just go with the flow, see where the day took us.
It was the perfect summer’s day. A few puffy white clouds in a startlingly blue sky above. Not too hot. Not too cold. I rolled down the window a fraction to let the breeze move through the car, and I talked to Millie, explaining the scenery as we passed. It was mostly so she heard my voice. Her car seat legally had to be rear-facing until she was fifteen months old, so we attached a mirror to the rear seat so we could see her expression.
I chatted to her about the vibrant, varying shades of greens in the grass and the trees, and how they contrasted beautifully against the water on our left. First, we drove past the Dornoch Firth, and then we followed the denim-blue water of the Kyle of Sutherland. Fyfe interjected to share that he and Lewis once jumped into the Kyle butt-naked on a dare from friends when they were sixteen.
I laughed, shaking my head at their nonsense. “Never tell my mother that story.” The Kyle of Sutherland was deep, the bottom was treacherous, and the current could be extremely strong. “What else did you two get up to that I don’t know about?”
Fyfe chuckled boyishly. “A few things.”
“Dada,” Millie grumbled from the back seat. “Dada!”
“Just a while longer, wee yin,” Fyfe assured her. “Then we’ll stop for some food.”
Once we’d crossed the River Shin, the roads changed to a single carriageway. It wasn’t a particularly busy road during the rest of the year, but there were more tourists around this part of the country in the summer. We got stuck behind a motorhome with a foreign number plate. They were clearly very nervous on the single carriageway, and Millie grew fussier by the second. I attempted to quiet her with more descriptions of our surroundings, but the words alone were not soothing her.
Between Fyfe having to drive at a ridiculously slow pace, the traffic building up behind us, and Millie’s ever-increasing volume of protest, I started singing.
I’d only ever sung to Millie when I was on my own. It was the one thing guaranteed to soothe her.
Her favorite was Taylor Swift, which pleased me to no end but did not bode well for my alternative rock–loving boyfriend.
Millie’s absolute favorite track was “Bigger Than the Whole Sky.” Of course she loved the melody and didn’t understand the melancholy lyrics. At least I hoped not.
Just as the motorhome pulled into a stopping place to allow us all to pass, Millie’s loud complaints slowly faded to silence. I sang a wee bit longer, just in case, and then let the lyrics trail off.
