‘Och, there’s this whisky blogger guy who’s taken it upon himself to write a load of rubbish about Butler’s, including the “fact” that we are puppets for the “Highland Mafia”. I’m not sure how many people believe it, but it’s sensationalist crap that means more firefighting for our PR department.’
‘Highland Mafia! Is that real?’ Alicia stopped painting and Jamie wished it was a thing so he could enthral her with tales of it.
‘It’s not real. The guy has lost the plot.’
‘He sure sounds like it. I guess you could harness his nonsense and turn it into a mythological backstory for the product. Use it in an advertising campaign. Set the scene of rogue Highlanders of the past drinking Butler’s. Smugglers. Illicit stills. That kind of thing.’ Alicia gesticulated with her brush as if painting the scene she described. ‘Make it appear all mystical and edgy, but then switch it up to the reality, that it’s simply a family-run business founded on generations of hard work. Use that contrast to reinforce how solid and grounded in family love the company is. That’s one in the face for his fantastical garbage.’
‘Woah!’ Jamie shook his head to check he wasn’t dreaming. In thirty seconds, Alicia had effortlessly devised a stupendous marketing campaign for Butler’s whisky without even being asked to.
‘Sorry, I talk nonsense sometimes,’ she apologised, returning to the canvas. ‘I’ve been watching too muchClan Bràthairs.’
‘Please, don’t apologise,’ Jamie insisted. ‘Your idea isincredible. I don’t know whatClan Bràthairsis, but I’ll check it out – once I get a TV, that is.’
‘You should. It’s about the Highland underworld of the past. Kind ofPeaky BlindersmeetsOutlander.’
‘Oh, that. Yeah, my brother Sean has mentioned it. He’s a big fan.’
‘It’s awesome. My brother is…’ Alicia stopped.
‘Your brother is what? Is he into it, too?’
‘Ha! Yes, he’s obsessed with it. And I’m glad you like the idea. There’s plenty more garbage where that came from.’
That Alicia thought her idea was garbage both amazed and bothered Jamie. ‘It’s far from rubbish, so I won’t hear that. I’ve paid marketing companies a lot of money to come up with stuff that isn’t even half as good. Is the idea copyrighted?’
‘No. You can have it. I promise I won’t sue. Although maybe watchClan Bràthairs,to check you don’t have any overlapping ideas and get chased by the production company.’
‘I will do. Also, I’m impressed by your Gaelic pronunciation of brothers.’
‘Thank you. You’re a great subject, by the way. Real natural.’
‘Ach, it’s the artist putting me at ease.’ Alicia had managed to make Jamie forget that he was being sketched half-naked. And they’d navigated several topics with no awkwardness, apart from Jamie trying to avoid the truth about Frank. Although at the same time as making him forget himself, Alicia made Jamie potently aware of every cell in his body because they all thrummed with life when he was around her. She was beautiful to look at, but her curiosity, creativity and enthusiasm turned him on, too. Merely being in the same room as her got him going and hereally wanted to adjust himself inside his jeans right now, but that would look very wrong.
‘You say the nicest things. So, tell me, Jamie.’ Alicia pinpointed Jamie with a question that made him wonder if he was more transparent than he realised. ‘What exactly is it that you want?’
Chapter 14
Alicia
Alicia was inquiring about Jamie’s life aspirations, but perhaps it came across as an accusation of something else. He was shifting a little uncomfortably on the couch, like he’d been caught with his pants down. Now that was an interesting image. She examined the sketch of him on her canvas and imagined the jeans gone. Then glancing up at his real face, she saw that he needed an explanation.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I was thinking of… Oh, never mind. So, what is it that you want from life, Mr Butler? What are your hopes, dreams and ambitions?’
‘From life? What do I want from life?’ Jamie’s shoulders loosened, although not enough to diminish their glory.
‘Yes, sorry. I should have made that clear.’ Alicia was so at ease in his company that her curiosity ran amok. Creativity surged, as did intrigue and inquiry. The best parts of who she was popped up like fresh seedlings through the soil. And that was amazing because Alicia had been wondering if her creative roots had shrivelled and died. As for her sexual roots, after all the damage inflicted by Chad,she never believed she would want another man in that way, let alone trust one enough to sleep with him. But Jamie, he changed all her settings, like a force field that interfered with her radar without even trying. And she’d known him for one day.
‘Okay, my hopes, dreams and ambitions?’ Jamie mulled the question. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to start with my favourite colour or sandwich filling or my star sign?’
Alicia giggled. ‘Whatever you are most comfortable with.’
Jamie reclined a little more on the sofa, stared at the ceiling and appeared to give the topic serious consideration. ‘In terms of what I want from life, I think – like any Piscean man whose favourite colour is blue and who loves a cheese Ploughman’s – I want safety and security for myself and for those I love. I want to make my dad proud and my mum not to have to worry about anything. And one day I’d like a woman and some children that I could love and adore. Nothing highly original, I suppose.’
‘Maybe not.’ Alicia swept her brush across the canvas. ‘But I like it.’ What was important wasn’t the originality of what Jamie had said but that his priorities were not money, fame or the respect of millions. She didn’t doubt he was already comfortable financially and commanded respect, but he also had a family who must be proud of him, and that was the thing he placed most value on. That told Alicia a great deal.
‘Bit boring, though?’ he said.
‘No, not boring at all.’
