Across the table, Dougal puffed up in his seat, pleased. “You know, they use MacRae whiskey for that sauce,” he said, pointing his fork at me the moment the waiter walked away.
I feigned ignorance. “You’re kidding?”
“Aye,” he said. “I’ve been back in the kitchen myself to see them at work. Only MacRae’s.”
Isla nudged me gently under the table, hiding her smile behind her napkin. I took a hearty bite of chicken slathered in sauce. “Well, that explains it. You can really taste the quality.”
“I’ve been told it retains its smoothness when it cooks down,” Dougal said. “Keeping that bold, smoky flavor without overpowering the dish.”
Isla nudged me again, giving me a discreet head nod; this was the moment. We’d softened Dougal up a bit, so it was time to enact the next phase of our plan.
“Speaking of bold, sir,” I began. “I wanted to ask you about the distillery property again.” Dougal stiffened, but I plowed on. “I know our last meeting didn’t end well, but I want you to know I’m still serious about my offer.”
“Not sure there’s anything to talk about,” Dougal said, sipping his pint.
“Dad,” Isla said softly. “Come on. By the sounds of things, you hardly let Locke finish his pitch last time.”
“That’s because I can tell someone’s worth by how they treat a man’s footy team.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “You can’t base this decision on a conversation about the Rovers. Dad,please. This land is important.”
He exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing in my direction again. But then he nodded slowly and leaned back in his chair, ready to hear me out.
“What I’d like to do,” I explained, “is transform the old distillery into a luxury hotel and spa.”
Dougal’s finger tapped the side of his glass. “And why does sleepy little Braeburn need a hotel? If you put in a factory, the workers will come. If you put in a hotel, who’s visiting?”
“The inn stays pretty busy,” Isla argued.
“And the inn has…what, ten rooms?” Dougal said. “You’re talking about a luxury hotel.”
“The right sort of hotel doesn’t justrespondto traffic. Itcreatesit. The resort itself will be the draw that Braeburn needs to get more people coming to the area. And once they’re there, I know they’ll fall in love with the place, which will only lead to more traffic and more need for the hotel. Braeburn has the potential to grow, Mr. MacRae, and I’d like this property to grow with it. Not only will it provide jobs to local community members, it will facilitate Braeburn’s ability to support more tourism, bringing more revenue to independent businesses in town.”
Dougal tipped his head back and forth. It wasn’t a no, but he clearly wasn’t fully on board, either. “There are pros and cons to both offers. I have a duty to the town to see the property go to the project that will bring the clearest benefits.”
Isla pursed her lips. “If you’re really serious about wanting to do what’s best for Braeburn, why don’t you let the town council be the deciding vote?” she said. “Why don’t you let the people who actually live in the community decide what would serve them best?”
9
ISLA
The question hung in the air for a moment, and I thought that Dad was going to turn us down flat. Instead, he arched one busy eyebrow. “Even if I do that, I still think they’ll vote for the factory. The hotelmightbe good for the area, but it’s less of a sure thing.”
My hand squeezed around the fork in my grasp. “I think you’re underestimating how much preserving the beauty of the property means to the town,” I said. “There’s more to a fulfilling community than whatever brings in the most revenue right away.” I glanced at Locke, trying to impress upon him the same message. Locke had promised to preserve the property and open it to the public, but what if I was backing the wrong horse? What if I should be pushing for Dad to sell to me instead?
But Dad waved his hand, as if he could bat away what I’d just said like an irritating fly. “I think you’re underestimating the bottom line,” he said. He didn’t bother giving my words any real consideration. My jaw went tight, even as I tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “Pretty trails are all well and good, but if people can’t put food on their table, what good aretrees and a waterfall? You’re attaching emotion to the decision rather than being rational. And the first rule of business?—”
“Is to back something you believe in,” Locke cut in, startling both of us. Dad bristled, clearly aggravated, but Locke didn’t back down. “I think as someone who runs her own independent business, there’s no one who understands the bottom lime better than Isla.”
Oh. I couldn’t have been more surprised by that, and my dad looked taken aback. Locke had spent the meal doing his best to win him over. Backing me certainly wasn’t going to win him any points.
But, to both of our surprises, it seemed to be the right decision. Dad nodded his head, thoughtful. “All right then, Mr. Fraser. You’ll get a chance to make your case. Polish up your pitch and get it ready for the next town council meeting. Whatever the council votes for,that’swho I’m selling to.”
It was a victory, of sorts, but it felt hollow. It was my suggestion to let the council vote. It was my words that Locke backed up. But it felt like I was pushed out of the conversation entirely. I was glad that Dad was, at least, letting the people of Braeburn decide what they wanted, but it didn’t change how my father saw me.
Maybe he never really would.
“Okay!” Locke said, clapping his hands together as we wandered down the street after saying goodbye to my father. “We’re officially in the running. All we have to do is convince the towncouncil.” He bumped my shoulder in a we’re-in-this-together kind of way. “Was that better or worse than you imagined?”
