“Apologies, I have another announcement,” Jamison says.
We turn.
“A visitor has arrived.”
“At this hour?” Lachlan finally looks up. “Who?”
Jamison inhales like he’s about to announce a natural disaster.
“Mr. Alistair McKenzie.”
Silence crashes over the room.
“Excuse me?” Callum says faintly.
“Mr. McKenzie,” Jamison repeats.
Every head turns toward me.
My blood runs cold.
Alistair? Here? Now?
We didnotplan this.
“Tell me this is a joke,” Callum says.
“I… wasn’t expecting him,” I admit.
“Shall I let him in, Miss?” Jamison asks.
Before I can answer?—
“Oh, absolutely!” Maggie claps her hands. “My granddaughter’s fiancé is always welcome. Send him in!”
Callum steps forward slowly.
I recognize that stance.
The last time he stood like that, someone ended up in a pond.
“Callum,” I whisper. “Don’t?—”
The door opens.
Alistair McKenzie steps inside.
Perfectly dressed. Navy suit. A bouquet of wildflowers in one hand, a bottle of whisky in the other. Calm. Confident. Controlled.
Only the tension in his shoulders betrays him.
Our eyes meet.
What are you doing here?
Run while you still can.
He winks.
