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On Monday, it's back to work. Now that we're in the final stretch leading up to the big dual event on Saturday, I expect to feel the pressure. But I don't. Instead, my excitement grows day by day as I add the final touches---with help from Fiona, Domhnall, and a bevy of MacTaggarts and Buchanans. That includes Thane, who seems almost as excited about the big event as I am.
Based on the amount of buzz lately about this extravaganza, I know our advertisements outpaced even my wildest dreams. We've gotten write-ups in newspapers throughout Scotland as well as the rest of the UK. Social media influencers have climbed onto the Thane train too. It helped that our friends and our friends' friends took word of mouth to unbelievable heights.
Saturday has arrived.
After a quick breakfast, we get dressed and head to the distillery. The guided tours will begin at ten o'clock this morning, and though we have the whole staff on hand to help out, Thane and I both need to be on the premises. He will be out there talking to visitors during the entire four hours of the open house. We've both dressed business casual for this portion of the two-part event since we'll be standing and walking for most of the time. But tonight, we'll bring out the formal ceilidh wear.
Thane looks damn hot in slacks, a long-sleeve button-down shirt, and leather boots made by his father. He left the top button of his shirt undone, but I reach out to undo the second one too.
"Show a little skin, sweetie. You are the brand, remember?"
"What has that got to do with my shirt?"
I grasp his shirt and drag him toward me. "Sex appeal, Thane. Your whisky is erotic, so let that inner sensuality peek out for everyone to see."
He palms my ass with both hands. "Anything for you, mo chridhe."
"You're my heart too." I step back. "Now, let's get out there and dazzle the public."
We walk out of my office and march down the corridor to the main doors. T-minus four minutes until liftoff. The other staff members have taken their positions at their assigned stations. We're as ready as we'll ever be.
Thane peers through the glass doors. "Rebecca, have you seen this?"
I move up beside him and follow his gaze toward the parking lot. "Holy shit. Five tour buses? I thought we were only renting two, but I left Fiona in charge of that."
"She saw all your data from the adverts. I reckon she realized we would need more buses."
While we wait, two more buses arrive. I check my watch one more time. T-minus eight seconds. Then I press the button on my walkie-talkie--- we all have them---and I give the order. "Open the doors, everyone. We're a go."
I move to the side as Thane swings the doors open. "Come inside, lasses and gents! Welcome to the Thane Buchanan Distillery."
His voice echoes off the trees and the mountainside.
People begin to pour out of the buses as well as the cars that overflow the parking lot. They're lined up along the roadside too. Fortunately, I had been highly optimistic about the turnout, so I got permission from the county and the village of Loch Fairbairn to let visitors park along the road.
Thane and I stand at either side of the doors, holding them open. Dougal and several of his cohorts from the malting floor rush out of the building. They make a beeline for the ropes we'd set up, just like what a nightclub might have, and they take control of the crowd. No one is freaking out. This isn't a nightclub, after all, and no one came here to see their favorite rock star. Of course, I think Thane is a rock star of the whisky world.
Soon, Thane and I are greeting people as the first round of visitors enter the building.
We lock the doors open, and the festivities begin.
During the full four hours of the event, Thane and I both rush here, there, and everywhere to ensure our visitors have the best experience possible. Several times, I take a moment to just listen to Thane talking to people. I follow along when he takes a group down to the river so he can explain the myths of the Daoine Sith and the mysteriously unnamed river as well as the connection with the castle of Dùndubhan.
I could listen to Thane's voice nonstop for the rest of my life and still not get enough. He does a fantastic job of infusing the myths with excitement and mystery, but he's at his best when he leads groups into the dunnage warehouse and introduces everyone to his three styles of whisky. His innate sensuality shows in every word he speaks and in the way he moves.
"We have three varieties of single-malt Scotch whisky," he purrs to the crowd. "Each has its own flavor and will tease your senses in a uniquely sensual manner. Thane Black Label was our first single malt, and it remains the benchmark for all our Scotch varieties. This one is a rich, smoky whisky. Would ye like to try it?"
A dozen heads nod vigorously.
Thane scans the crowd, then points to one person. "Come here, lass, please. I want you to taste Thane Black Label single-malt Scotch whisky."
She hustles up to him, her eyes alight with excitement as he picks up a bottle of Thane Black Label and opens it up. Then he grabs a shot glass and pours a measure of whisky into it. Thane holds the glass up to the woman's face. "Inhale deeply, lass."
The woman closes her eyes and sucks in a breath through her nostrils. Her lips curl upward a touch. She exhales gradually and opens her eyes. "The scent is incredible. May I taste the whisky now?"
Her British accent proves what my data had suggested. People from all over have come to experience what Thane has to offer. I've heard even more accents too, everything from American to French and Welsh, even Japanese. The couple from Japan had been on vacation here in Scotland when they saw advertisements for this event.
"What is your name, lass?" Thane asks as he holds the glass between himself and the woman.
