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“Ma called me last week. Business ain’t looking good in Scotland, and, well, if you wanted, I could maybe make some magic happen.”
“Are you serious?” The first year I met Ollie, he had a box of whisky shipped from the Andersons’ distillery in the Highlands. He rarely talks of home or his family business.
“Need I remind you of the favor you’d owe me.” Ollie cocks a brow at me. “But yes, they could probably ship a few crates, and I can help you host an artisanal tasting for these stuffy folks. Can’t let you go making a mockery of real whisky.”
“Make it happen.” My heart thuds in my chest.
Two tasks completed, one to go.
“When was the last time you hosted a tasting?” Robert asks in a hushed tone. “Hasn’t it been almost two decades since you’ve been back home?”
“Pipe down, Robbie.” Ollie’s friendly demeanor slips.
“I’m sensing some discomfort from you,” Robert notes.
“It’ll be fine, like riding a bike. I was giving tours when I was a boy,” Ollie grumbles. My friend hates any mention of his time away from Scotland. “Anyway, Mattie, how are things going with Mols? You’ve been living together for some time now. She sick of you yet?”
I inhale and peek outside the glass walls of our office, making sure the door is firmly closed.
I’ve been trying to ignore this unsettling feeling. No matter how much I try, it keeps coming back to torment me.
No time like the present.
“I actually need some advice.”
“Should I be charging by the hour?” Ollie laughs and leans back in his chair. It bucks beneath his weight.
“Well, I really like Molly and—”
“Like? Like?” Ollie wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “I knew ya wouldn’t be pretending for much longer. Robbie, you owe me lunch.”
“I thought your relationship was meant to help with the initial funding for EcoDrones.” Robert doesn’t look away from his screen.
“It was, but…” I suck air through my teeth. “There’s something else now.”
“You’ve always liked her,” Ollie says.
“That’s beside the point. I’m feeling uneasy because I haven’t told her about my infertility.”
“Oh.” Robert’s keyboard stops clattering, and a silence falls over the room.
Nerves pinch my chest. “Kids haven’t come up in our conversations. We’ve only truly been getting to know each other, on an intimate level, for a little over a month.”
Ollie frowns, tapping his knuckles on his desk. “Aye. She’s not going to judge you. Molly’s not like that.”
“I know. That’s not what I’m concerned about.” My voice trembles as I run my fingers through my hair. “We have a lot going on with the party planning and both of our businesses. I’m worried that if I bring this up and she wants kids…what would that mean for us? Can I make her my real girlfriend or even go through with this marriage if I don’t tell her?” I pause, trying to steady my breathing.
“Are you afraid of discussing the personal topic with your betrothed because you haven’t fully healed the wounds from your history with…” Robert pauses. “Lau—Miss Eye of Sauron, and you’re using that as an excuse to avoid sharing the details of your biological insufficiency with the woman you’re living with and denying your feelings of true love for?”
Christ. I’m slack-jawed. Never put it past Robert to read you better than you could ever read yourself.
“Well, Bobbie’s got you pinned.” Ollie chortles. “Has Molly given you any reason to believe that your happily ever after is gonna be filled with tots?”
“No, but her parents have.” Isn’t that why we’re doing all these tasks—to prove to the Greenes that I’m suitable enough to produce heirs with Molly? “I don’t really know how she feels about that. She’s only twenty-six, and she loves her family.”
“Understandable,” Ollie says, his voice soft and reassuring. “But you gotta trust that she’ll tell ya what she wants. That’s all you can hope for out of people, that they’re telling you the truth.”
“Or you can assume they’re all lying,” Robert suggests before returning to his typing. “Obi-Wan has yet to move past Anakin’s betrayal. Lack of trust has been proven to be an effective method of self-preservation.”
