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Once I verify that all my employees have gone home, including Fiona, I finally leave the distillery and head back to my house. It's small but comfortable, and I live on the outskirts of Loch Fairbairn with no close neighbors. Maybe I do cherish privacy more than most people. I have my reasons for that, reasons I will never share with anyone.
In the morning, I arrive at the distillery well before anyone else does. At least, that's what I assume. But as I stride down the hall, heading for my office, I notice that the door to Rebecca's office is partway open. Did she forget to close it last night? She can lock her office, though no one else here bothers to do that. As I reach the door, I can hear her humming.
I push the door open. "Rebecca? What are you doing here so early?"
She's bobbing her head rhythmically while humming.
The lass must be listening to music. I can't see headphones, but she might have worn earbuds. So, I march up behind her and rip one of those wee things out of her ear.
She shrieks and jumps. Her chair slides backward, and she's about to hit the floor on her erse.
I catch her from behind. Now the backside of her body is molded to my front. "Take it easy, lass. You could've cracked your skull on this hard floor."
She spins round and stumbles backward. "What were you doing? I nearly had a heart attack."
"At least it was only a near catastrophe, then." I right her chair and pat the seat. "Rest your lovely erse, Rebecca. I apologize for frightening you, but you aren't meant to be here this early."
"Fiona told me I have a master key, which means I can get into the building anytime I want." She hesitantly sits down on the chair. "I wanted to get an early start. I've got a ton of work to do."
I set my erse on the corner of her desk. "What's the rush? The distillery won't vanish tomorrow."
"Maybe not. But last night, I had a vision of the perfect marketing strategy."
"Still not seeing what the rush is."
Rebecca wriggles to get fully seated on her chair, then rolls it forward so she can rest her arms on the desktop. "Valentine's Day is in five weeks."
"Aye."
"Don't you see?" She taps her finger on her desktop calendar. "Valentine's Day. It's the perfect way to promote the distillery."
"You're wanting everyone to get drunk and have inappropriate sex, and somehow that will sell more whisky."
She rolls her eyes. "Obviously not. But your whisky is sensual, delicious, and irresistible. Valentine's is the perfect tool for promoting it."
"Dinnae understand. Valentine's Day is about sappy cards and boxes of chocolate, not single-malt Scotch."
Rebecca crosses her legs and sets her hands on the arms of her chair. "Do you trust me to create a fantastic marketing campaign for your business? Or would you rather fire me?"
"I do not want to sack you. But I've never advertised my distillery before, and it feels a bit, ah..."
"Sleazy?"
"Aye. But that's my preconception, and I'm sure other people wouldn't feel the same way. So, the answer to your question is yes, I trust you to find the best ways to promote the company."
"Should I keep you in the loop about everything related to the marketing? Or would you rather be in the dark until I'm done?"
"I reckon it'll be best if you don't give me a daily update."
She clasps her hands over her lap. "I'm happy to hear you say that. Delegating authority can be stressful, but you'll be glad you handed the reins over to me, I promise."
A bizarre image appears in my mind---Rebecca on all fours with a bridle strapped to her forehead while I stand behind her gently slapping the reins on her erse. We're both naked in my fantasy. Then I hand the reins to Rebecca, and she begins to slap my erse.
Bod an Donais. I'm getting aroused, and that is not a good thing at work.
"Thane, are you okay?"
"What? Oh, aye, I'm fine." I rise and straighten my posture. "I'll leave you to your work. I'm sure Fiona will be happy to help you in any way she can."
