Ramsay gestured out to the water. “Isle of Scaris. Word has it the Montrose brothers are in dispute with their contractors.They might be on the lookout for a new company to finish the project.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s left to do?”
“By the sounds of it, fix their shoddy workmanship and finish the hotel.”
“How do you know about this?”
“One of the brothers was in the Lantern at the weekend, bemoaning the mess they’ve made.”
“Okay. Keep your ear out.” It would be a hassle to travel back and forth to Scaris, but if the money was good, it could keep us all going until the development project in spring. If we won the bid.
“Where you off to now?”
“Aodhan wanted to talk to me about something, so the Lantern. You?”
Ramsay looked upward toward Leth Sholas Guest House. “Think I’ll see if my woman needs help with anything. We still on for band practice tomorrow?”
“Aye. We need a few more practices in.” At the end of the weeklong event, the council hosted a ceilidh—a social event of traditional Scottish dancing and folk music, like our pipe band—to celebrate the end of the games.
“Tierney’s trying to convince me she should participate in the hammer throw.” Ramsay snorted. “Last time she threw a hammer she nearly took down a wall.”
Confused, I raised an eyebrow. “When?”
His eyes danced with laughter and he shook his head. “Never mind. On that note, I’m going to see what mischief my woman is currently up to.”
A prickle of envy flickered over me before it disappeared entirely. If anyone deserved to find their person, it was Ramsay McRae. “I’ll text you later.”
“Or not,” he called back over his shoulder as he and Akiva crossed the street.
I chuckled under my breath because Ramsay hated phones. He basically hated any way for someone to communicate with him without his permission. Unfortunately for him, we ran a company together, so I needed to be able to contact him.
A few minutes later, I found Aodhan behind the bar in the Lantern. “You wanted to talk?”
“Say goodbye to the bairns, then?” he asked instead as he came out from behind the bar, accompanied by the clickety-clack of Shakespeare’s claws on the hardwood.
I wasn’t surprised Aodhan knew my children had left for Oban. The man’s knowledge of the comings and goings on the island was practically occult. “Aye.”
“Aye, well, I’ve got a distraction for you.” He gestured for me to follow him out of the pub and onto Main Street. “Do you see that empty piece of land?” Aodhan pointed down the street to the gap between the last row of terraced buildings opposite Glenvulin Whisky Distillery. The distillery sat by the water, owned by a family who had grown so wealthy off the operation they’d inherited they no longer even lived on the island.
“What about it?”
“How quick do you think you could order and assemble a kit-built structure for a shop?”
“It depends how big and when you want it.”
“I think my question makes that fairly obvious.”
I raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm. “Being sweet to me like that isn’t going to make me answer any faster.”
The older man snorted. “Fair enough. But maybe this will. The building is for a charity shop to fund the Leth Sholas Lifeboat Service.” Aodhan looked me in the eyes and dealt his trump card. “And Taran Macbeth is the director of the charity.”
My gaze flew to Pages & Perks and then to the lot of land. “If it’s a fairly straightforward design, I have a contact with a kit company who could prioritize me.”
Aodhan held out his hand, wearing a smug smirk. “Then I believe you just won the bid to build the store.”
I shook my head, fighting back a smile.
Because the old bastard knew he’d given me more than a paycheck.
