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Duncan seemed to be waiting for me. Questioning all my decisions, I cast an apologetic look at him before I turned to Bea. “I need to go up and do a bit of work.”
“They’ve got you working from Scotland?” Carlos said. “That’s dedication. Me, I said no calls until I’m back in the office.”
None of his work tales had included anything like a nine-to-five environment. Shooting footage from the back of a speedboat didn’t sound like anyone’s office routine. “Do you even have an office?”
He smirked. “Not this week.”
Envy for Carlos. That was a new experience.
“Are you in for the night, then?” Duncan didn’t show a trace of judgment.
“I said I’d do a couple of hours.”
“And after?”
I probably smirked as wide as Carlos. “Pub?”
He nodded. “Pub it is.”
* * *
I silently raged against the poor WiFi connection in the lodge. If I had any idea where they kept the router, I would have moved closer to it, but I wasn’t in the mood to wander around with my computer open searching for full signal strength.
The work itself wasn’t the problem. I could create a good-looking, functional website even if I did it under duress.
No, the problem was I shouldn’t have to do it at all. As gratifying as it was Lincoln had chosen me for Head of Design, it didn’t mean as much when I saw how easily I could lose it. What a crummy position to put me in. Would he have rescinded the offer if I’d refused to help out tonight? Neither answer brought any kind of comfort.
Lincoln enjoyed playing up his company’s reputation as a fun office with a game room for blowing off steam, weeklyTake Your Dog to Workdays, and a casual dress policy. The part he never detailed in his many online profiles or to prospective employees was how much overtime was a given, and that vacation days meant nothing.
This wasn’t the first vacation he’d ruined over the years, just the first international one. Between cranking out lines of code, past vacations danced through my thoughts—a handful of glorified long weekends which I had also worked through. A few hours on the beach, followed by several on my laptop, rinse and repeat.
The intrusions hadn’t been so noticeable closer to home, as though proximity to the office had blurred the lines between what was or was not an acceptable request. Typing away in a cramped lodge in Scotland with spotty WiFi was a siren blaringYou should not be working!
I didn’t finish the coding until past nine. It was inelegant, but I’d at least laid the foundation for the development team. I sent it off, renewing my vow to enjoy the rest of my vacation. No more work. No more after tonight.
Ready to make a beeline to the pub Arnav had mentioned, I stopped in my tracks at the bottom of the stairs. Duncan sat reading in the glow of a tartan-shaded lamp.
I grinned like a fool. “I thought you would have gone ahead with Carlos and Harlow.”
“I thought I’d better wait for you,” he said, closing his book. “Can’t have you going off and getting lost on the way to the pub.”
“Is it possible to get lost in a town this small?”
“If one set their mind to it.”
He sounded like he was up for the challenge. What I wouldn’t give to get lost somewhere with Duncan.
He stood to join me. “Ready?”
Just as we opened the front door, Spencer came downstairs. His gaze was fixed on the door, as though he might pass us by without so much as a hello.
“Spencer, are you going to join us at the pub?” I knew the answer, but I couldn’t stop asking anyway. I still held out hope that somehow, something would get him to enjoy the trip.
“No, not tonight.” He sounded as though he wished he were somewhere else.
“So, some other night?” I asked brightly.
“Probably not.” He ran a hand down his face, looking more disheveled than ever. Hair askew, beard unkempt—and I thought I recognized the shirt he wore from yesterday. “It’s nice of you to keep trying when I’m…” He threw a hand toward his face. “This.”
