The website loaded, and Cal entered his email address. Less than thirty seconds later a message arrived with a short story attached, entitledHunting for Mr Scotland. Cal pursed his lips, skimming through the story and getting the general gist. An American writer comes to Scotland seeking inspiration for her writing in the form of a sexy Scotsman. She orchestrates a meet cute with Hal Hunter, a local entrepreneur, and sparks fly. Cal didn’t want to carry on beyond the illicit scene where the couple make love in HalHunter’s restaurant office, but he read enough to feel like this story was a re-enactment of his experiences with Bea. It wasn’t an exact copy of events, but certain similarities were enough for a swooping rush of betrayal to fly in. Cal glanced up from his phone. He could see from Bea’s face that she understood immediately what was wrong.
‘Bea, what is this?’
‘It’s just a short story, Cal. Please don’t think I would ever?—’
‘It kind of looks like you have.’
‘I might leave you to it.’ Amanda shuffled towards the door. ‘Go easy, Cal,’ she said, touching her son on the shoulder before she left the room. ‘She’s a very talented writer.’
‘Aye, she might be, but?—’
‘Oh, Cal,’ said Bea. ‘It’s not what you think it is.’
Cal frowned. ‘Oh, come on. I don’t have a big head, Bea, but this guy here’ – he waved his phone in the air – ‘I’m not imagining it, am I? Hal Hunter? I mean, you may as well have called him Bal Bunter or Mal Munter, for all the lengths you’ve taken to disguise that he’s modelled on me.’
Bea stifled a laugh and refrained from countering that Mal Munter was not a sexy hero name. ‘He’s not modelled on you. Just inspired by. You’ve inspired me, Cal. That should be a good thing. I mean, I didn’t think many people would read the story, and even for the few who did, well, I didn’t think it would be a problem. None of them would know who you are and … I thought you would take it as a compliment.’
‘You were going to tell me about this?’
Bea shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps. Once I’d finished the novel. I mean, this story is a kind of promo for thelonger work.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘Cal, I’m sorry, I am. But I also don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It’s not like I’ve said awful things about you and, like I said, no one will know it’s you because once I go back to the States then, well, we won’t be together so nobody will work it out.’
Cal considered this. She was right. It was unlikely anyone would ever know it was him. But still, his strong desire for complete privacy jarred with the story. His mother had read it, for goodness’s sake. And probably now, knowing he was its inspiration, his siblings would too. His brothers would take the piss right out of him, which he could just about stand, but having Cara and Eilidh read it made him uneasy. And as for his father; he didn’t even want to think. If Elisabetta parading her possible Butler baby all over the internet was enough for him to feel his son was bringing shame on the family, then what would this do? All it would take would be for one person to identify Hal Hunter as Cal Butler from the Butler distilling family, then post it on social media and he’d be self-conscious every time he met a business contact.
Bea was watching him, nervously. ‘You know, you’re right,’ she said. ‘I should have given Hal a different name. I can easily change that.’
Cal shrugged. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘That’d be good, thanks.’
‘It’s not that big of a deal, I don’t think,’ she said. ‘Honestly, it’s not like I’m a big star and anyone will care to find out who you are. And besides, the longer novel doesn’t bear that much resemblance to our experiences together.’
‘Okay,’ said Cal, still feeling far strange, although he wasn’t sure why this provoked such a sense of betrayal. Bea was right, it wasn’t that big a deal.
‘I’m not sure if you are okay,’ said Bea, sensing his unease. ‘Believe me, nobody cares about my writing.’
‘Of course they do,’ said Cal. ‘Of course people care. Maybe not millions of people yet, but you’ll grow in traction, Bea. This is just the beginning. You’re a talented writer. People will care. They should. I care.’
And with a jolt at his own words, Cal realised why he was so upset about Bea’s having written about him. It wasn’t to do with his privacy or even his father’s approval. It was because he cared. It was because he cared more than he ever expected he would. It was because when they’d gone into this thing together they’d both been on the same page, both wanting a no-strings fling. Bea had taken those experiences and used them as material for her writing, helping to advance her career. And what had he done? He’d gone and fallen in love with her. That’s what. He’d let himself get attached to someone who was only interested in a short-term arrangement without ties, fallen head over heels while she had remained detached. God, he was a fool.
‘Thank you,’ said Bea. ‘I appreciate that you care about my writing. Honestly, Cal, I used a little of our experiences to pepper things up a bit. I’d never spill everything onto the page. That would mean I’d be exposing myself as well, remember.’
Cal nodded. ‘I guess you’re right.’ Bea hadn’t noticed the subtext behind his words: that saying he cared meant he was in love with her. Well, he wasn’t going to drive home the matter. Not if she was able to remain detached. And what she said next cemented that fact.
‘If anything, it’s a great advertisement for what a swell lover you are.’
‘Um, whilst I’m flattered by the sentiment,Bea, that’s not something I’ve ever felt the need to advertise, even if it were true.’
‘I was kind of joking.’ Bea smiled. ‘About advertising it. Because it is true. But, you know, when I’m gone, you’ll have a memory of our time together, immortalised. Not many guys can say that.’
Gee, how many times was she going to drive the point home? That she was leaving, and that it didn’t bother her at all?
‘Okay, okay.’ Cal sunk his hands into his pockets. ‘It’s fine. I’ll try to see it as flattery. But if you could maybe change the guy’s name to something that doesn’t echo my own. I’d appreciate that.’
‘I’ll do that as soon as I am back at my laptop.’ The tenderness with which Bea looked at him then melted his heart and frustrated him to the core. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to hold these feelings in much longer.
Chapter 49
