But wait, if he wasn’t an employee, why was he pretending to be one? Ice sluiced through Alicia’s blood. Who was that guy? What just happened?
Confrontation was not in Alicia’s playbook, but two things gave her confidence in thisscenario. One was the simmering sense of injustice that Chad had planted inside her, and the other was her wig and sunglasses. She swiped them from the table and threw them on, securing the wig with her beanie. It was a poorly maintained piece she’d been allowed to take home from a set, but it suited her purpose of arriving here unrecognised.
Alicia strode across to the lodge the porter had entered and rapped on the door. It crossed her mind that if he were press or a blogger she would be playing right into his hands. But until two days ago even she hadn’t known she was coming here and she’d checked in under a false name. So, what the hell was an ordinary guest doing pretending to be a hotel porter? He could be watching her through a pair of binoculars. Suddenly the so-called porter wasn’t so hot after all.
Except when he came to the door, he definitely was still hot. And when he smiled at her and his blue eyes sparkled like the winter sun, the ice caps inside Alicia melted a little.
‘Hey,’ he said, still wearing his ‘porter’ outfit, but now obviously just a smartly dressed man. One capable of selecting sharply-cut clothes that perfectly accentuated his broad frame. What an idiot she’d been. But choice tailoring aside, he was still in the wrong and Alicia was done with men doing what they liked with no consideration for how it made women feel. She would tell him exactly this.
‘Listen,’ the man spoke before she had a chance, ‘I think there’s been a wee bit of confusion. I was going to come over and clear a few things up.’
‘Oh, you were, were you?’
‘Aye, I was.’
‘Go ahead.’ She crossed her arms. Who was this confrontational, version of herself? She had no idea but she’d stand her ground.
‘I wanted to apologise.’ The man’s eyes flickered with uncertainty at Alicia’s slight aggressiveness. ‘I may have misled you into thinking that I was a hotel porter when I’m not.’
‘You sure did mislead me. Where do you get off doing that?’
‘Yep. I’m sorry. I don’t get off on it at all. In the lobby you assumed and I should have said something to disabuse you of the fact, but there wasn’t a moment where I could correct you without alarming you.’
‘I see.’ Alicia pursed her lips, tightly. He had at least apologised and she should do the same for assuming he was a hotel employee. But she didn’t feel like letting him off the hook that easily and found herself saying combatively, ‘I could report you to the hotel, you know.’
‘I guess you could. Feel free. I’m not sure what good it’ll do you. I was only trying to help. And I’ve been coming to this hotel since I was a kid, so the staff can vouch that I’m not a total weirdo.’
‘Oh, of course not!’ Alicia blurted. ‘Because it’s perfectly ordinary to go on vacation and masquerade as a hotel employee.’
The man visibly tensed. It appeared he was not about to take Alicia’s mouthiness lying down.
‘And is it perfectly ordinary to wear sunglasses when it’s zero degrees and overcast?’
Alicia’s mouth dropped open. The game was up already. He knew who she was and that she was trying to disguise her identity. Soon there would be photos of her at this hotel online. Why had she assumed that coming to Scotland would mean she could walk around unknown, like it was a giant cosy village where everyone knew everyone but nothing about the rest of the planet?
But the man didn’t say anything more about her identity which gave Alicia confidence to respond.
‘That’s kind of rude,’ she retorted. ‘You have no idea why I’m wearing sunglasses. I could have a black eye or be recovering from surgery.’
‘Okay, fair enough, you could be. I’m sorry.’
‘I mean, I’m not, but…’
His mouth lifted into amusement. Alicia frowned. She didn’t need this.
‘So, we’re both weirdos then?’ he said, clearly trying to soften the atmosphere.
Alicia was not for softening. ‘Speak for yourself,’ she said.
‘Look.’ The man pulled the conversation into a lower gear. ‘Let’s start again. In the interests of full transparency, my name is Jamie Butler and I’m not a porter. I work for a whisky company. I used to come to this hotel when I was young, which is why I could easily show you to your room. The staff are always busy so I was trying to do them a favour. I was about to bring you a bottle by way of an apology. In fact, wait there.’ Jamie disappeared into the lodge for a moment, then reappeared holding out a bottle of Scotch, his face entreating. Kind eyes. He truly was a beautiful-looking man, this Jamie Butler.
Without taking it, Alicia examined the bottle Jamie proffered. It was a familiar brand she was sure she’d seen Connor drinking – Butler’s – and he was claiming to work for the company. She glanced up at him again. Those eyes. They talked to her. But Chad had eyes like that too – a face that spoke a thousand words – and he was a nasty piece of work.
‘I’m sorry for any embarrassment. But this is full disclosure, okay?’ Jamie’s Scottish brogue was rich with some sortof elixir that made it difficult to do anything but forgive. How many women had forgiven him based on that accent?
‘Okay, thanks.’ Alicia took the whisky. ‘I appreciate your clearing things up. I guessIoweyouan apology for making a giant assumption that you were a porter. It was very noble of you to bring my bags, but I’m sure a real porter would have been along any moment.’
Jamie raised his palms. ‘Really, you have nothing to apologise for. I shouldn’t have misled you. Possibly it was easier than embarrassing you. Which it looks like I did, anyway.’
