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“I hate to say it, but this is a bad time for you to be on vacation, Molly.” Lincoln managed to sound casual and threatening at the same time. “Everyone else is working overtime as it is. Maybe you should cut your trip short so you can finalize this site.”
The idea made me queasy. “That’s impossible.”
“Look. I want you for this Head of Design position because your work is flawless, you’re dedicated to the team, and I can rely on you no matter what. Was I wrong in thinking that?”
Anxiety unspooled in my stomach.Teamwas one of Lincoln’s favorite keywords. Team effort. The team needs you. Don’t let your team down. Amazing how much guilt teamwork could create. I broke into a light sweat, glancing around the room. What was more important, a few hours of vacation time, or everything I’d worked for in the last ten years of my career?
“You weren’t wrong,” I said. “I can do a few hours’ worth to get the group started.”
Every word came out a groan of defeat, but Lincoln would never hear it.
“That’s our Head of Design.”
His praise twisted the knife, as though I were sacrificing my vacation time out of the goodness of my heart rather than giving in to his vague threats. For the first time, I wondered how many more hours I would have to put into the business once I got back and fully settled into the promotion. I didn’t have a lot of spare time left as it was.
I hung up, mentally scrubbing the rest of my evening. Nothing ever went to plan, but doing code on vacation was the worst of all possible plans. My one consolation was that the day’s activities were already done—although, truth be told, I’d started looking forward to my evening activities with Duncan more than the actual tour.
I would just have to put off those hopes for tonight.
twenty-two
I needed comfort food.
My vow at the Fairy Pools not to do any more work in Scotland vanished in the face of Lincoln’s threats, my high over the exquisite sights demolished. I hated that I’d given in—but I couldn’t completely regret it, either. I couldn’t risk my job, not when I had so much on the line.
So—food.
I ate two whisky chocolates before I went down to dinner, hoping the sugar kick would perk me up. Dinner was hearty—potatoes and red meat—but at least nothing was fried. After my lunch of fish and chips with a deep-fried Mars bar chaser, my stomach had turned into a lump of congealed grease. I didn’t want to see anything coated in batter for the rest of the trip.
Any ill-effects from chocolate would be completely forgiven.
Bea and Rupert announced their intention to set out on another hill walk after dinner. It was already past six, but this far north in the summer, the sun didn’t go down until closing in on eleven. It might be perpetually shrouded in clouds, but Scotland didn’t lack for daylight hours.
I had to admire just how active they’d been every day of the trip. They could have easily chosen a senior tour built around visiting museums and castle gardens, but they’d opted for activity and adventure. I appreciated their spirit, even if I had no intention of tagging along on this particular walk.
“You’re all welcome to join us,” Bea said. “It’s quite invigorating.”
“I’d be happy to join you,” Lewis said, possibly due to contractual obligations.
“I’m off to the pub,” Arnav said. Lewis shot him a warning look, but he raised his water glass. “For the ambience, of course.”
I guessed there must be a stipulation that the guides couldn’t drink on-tour. They’d encouraged everyone else to drink whatever we liked, but I hadn’t seen them drink anything stronger than cola.
“Where’s the good pub, Arnav?” Carlos asked. “Harlow says she can drink me under the table, and I aim to prove her right.”
Harlow rolled her eyes. “I said I’d have one drink.”
“As if anyone goes to a pub in Scotland and has just one drink, especially an Aussie. Live up to your stereotypes, woman.”
“Live up to yours. Aren’t you supposed to be a charming Lothario?”
His eyes widened. “That’s offensive. I’ve been charming the hell out of you.”
She rolled her eyes, but the wash of color on her cheeks said he wasn’t wrong.
“The pub’s easy enough to find,” Arnav said. “Head out the door and turn left. It’s three buildings down, big black sign says Olde Man and Skye. Can’t miss it.”
“Molly? Duncan?” Bea hadn’t given up her quest for companions. “Care to join us?”
