My mother.
I hesitate, then answer."Hi, Mom.I'm kind of in the middle of a work crisis right now."
"Gretchen Marie Carver, don't you 'work crisis' me."My mother's voice carries that distinct tone that means she's been waiting to deliver news.
"Oh no, what did I forget this time?"I try to keep my voice light, but I'm biting my lip.The last time Mom used my middle name, it was because I forgot Dad's birthday.In my defense, I'd been in the middle of a website launch for a client who kept changing the font size every thirty minutes."Sorry, no time for a chat."
"You sound exhausted, sweetie."Mom pauses for dramatic effect."Are you taking on too many clients again?You'll never find a husband if you keep working eighteen hours a day.The last time we saw you, Dad and I both noticed the dark circles under your eyes."
Thanks a lot, Mom.I needed to hear that.
"Honey, you need some time off."She clucks her tongue."Gatlinburg is a wonderful place to live, but you really should take a vacation.My only daughter will work herself into an early grave if she doesn't stop taking on too much."
"I am not working myself into an early grave."I wince because she's kind of right.Not about the grave, but about my desperate need for a vacation.But there's a problem."I can't afford a holiday anywhere except in Knoxville."
Mom laughs."Oh sweetie, we've already arranged everything."
I swear a chill is shimmying down my spine."What do you mean?"
"Your flight leaves tomorrow morning at 10:30 a.m.from McGhee Tyson Airport," Mom announces with too much cheerfulness in her voice."Your dad and I used our airline miles.It's nonrefundable, so you have to go."
My jaw drops as I stare at the half-finished presentation on my screen."Mom, I can't just leave tomorrow.I have deadlines, clients---"
"You need to relax, Gretchen.All that stress isn't good for your complexion.Or your chances of meeting someone nice."
I pinch the bridge of my nose."This isn't about meeting a man, Mom.It's about my business.My livelihood.I can't drop everything on a day's notice."
"It's Scotland, Gretchen."She announces that as if it's the ultimate trump card."You deserve a getaway to another land where men wear kilts and throw trees at each other."
My brain needs a moment to understand that last statement."Throwing trees?Yeah, that sounds terrific."
But I realize I have no choice.My parents worry about my hectic work schedule, and I can't deny they have a point.But Scotland?Well, maybe I could find out for myself whether Scotsmen wear anything under those kilts.
"Okay, Mom.I'll do it."
Two days later, I leave Gatlinburg and Tennessee behind me as my plane races toward the land of kilts and haggis.And just maybe...
A man worth waiting for.
Chapter Two
Kirk
I'm not the sort of man who believes in fate, but when you're dangling upside down from a medieval castle turret with nothing but a frayed rope between you and certain death, you start to wonder if the universe has a twisted sense of humor.Well, I did volunteer for this stunt.And Rory MacTaggart did warn me about jumping off Dùndubhan.But I haven't hit the ground yet, so I'd call this a semi-successful stunt.
"Kirk!For pity's sake, are ye trying to get yerself killed?"Tam's voice echoes from below, his concern wrapped in that uniquely Scottish blend of exasperation and brotherly terror.
"Just adding flare of drama for the cameras," I shout back, feeling the rope slip another inch.The cold Highland wind whips around me, making the ancient stones of Dùndubhan Castle blur in my vision.What was supposed to be a straightforward stunt for the whisky commercial has turned into something considerably more life-threatening.
Ahmno worried, though.
The cameras are still rolling, of course.Nothing sells whisky like a man risking his life for it, or so Rory's marketing team believes.I can practically hear the director salivating at this unexpected drama.Authentic danger sells better than staged peril.
"Hang on!"Tam bellows."The safety team is coming up!"
"Tell them not to bother."I doubt he can hear me over the wind.My fingers are going numb, and not just from the cold.The blood rushing to my head makes my temples throb painfully.But this is the sort of risk I love to take.
When I glance down, I see Tam's broad figure as he gestures wildly to the crew.His bakery apron is still tied around his waist.He must have dropped everything when he got the call that his barmy brother was attempting to become a permanent fixture on the north face of Dùndubhan.
