Page 88 of The First Taste

“It’s Lord Grayrose,” he snarls.

She inclines her head. “Apologies, Lord Grayrose. I’m Dr. Summers, the head of this summer program. Would you mind if we all took a seat?”

She beckons to me, pointing at the seats in front of her desk. I can see Keir opening his mouth to protest. To forestall him, I shut the door behind me and speak up.

“Keir, let’s do as she suggested,” I say softly. “We are all civilized here. Right?”

He shoots me a glare. But he does lurch over to one of the chairs and sit down, silently seething. Dr. Summers sits down behind her desk and folds her hands.

Moving quickly, I pull my seat close to Keir’s and perch on the corner.

“Well?” he spits. “What is it that Isla has supposedly done?”

“Thank you for coming down. I realize that Isla has only been with us for a few hours. And I also can tell that she is bright and that she has a ton of potential.” She pauses, her lips pursing. “However, Isla has already exhibited some bullying behavior. As head of this program, I feel it is in everyone’s best interest to deal with it now. Nip it in the bud, as they say.”

Keir makes a sound that’s akin to a soft growl. I put my hand on his arm, seeking to keep him from going on the attack.

“How do you suggest that Lord Grayrose ought to deal with it?” I ask.

“I’m prepared to pull her out and sue the whole camp,” Keir sputters.

I give him a look, tightening my grip on his arm. He glowers at me.

“I don’t think that will help matters. If anything, it will reinforce the behavior,” Dr. Summers says, not unkindly. “I think that instead, I should have her brought in here. And then you two, as her parents, can explain to her that the taunting comments and bullying behavior will not be tolerated here.”

Parent? No way.

My heart practically jumps out of my chest. My eyes go wide and I stumble as I try to explain to Dr. Summers that I’m definitely not Isla’s parent.

“Oh, we’re not—” I start.

“She’s not Isla’s mother,” Keir asserts, jabbing his finger onto Dr. Summers’ desk. “This is her au pair.”

I slice a look at Keir, but he’s too wrapped up in the moment to notice.

Dr. Summers looks surprised. “Oh! Sorry, I assumed. My point still stands, though… Every child here wants to learn about the sky and the stars. Nothing more, nothing less. It might help Isla if you were to promise a reward for good behavior?”

Keir looks a little surprised. “I… I could try that, yes.”

Standing up, I clear my throat. “It sounds like you all have it covered. Why don’t I wait in the car?”

I don’t need to be any more involved than I already am. If Dr. Summers mistook me for Isla’s mom, that clearly is a sign that I’ve definitely stayed in Scotland for a little too long.

Keir’s brows lower and he gives me a gruff nod. “Fine.”

I can’t get out of the cottage fast enough. Climbing in the SUV, I stare out the window. This morning, I got up and had breakfast with Isla. The thought that I need to return to Atlanta never even crossed my mind once as I chatted with the excited, nervous child about her upcoming day.

Now I’m stewing about the fact that it’s been nearly a month without any concrete movement on the whole Wendy issue. This whole thing started because some journalist supposedly taped Keir and I fucking. It’s definitely time to get to the bottom of things and for me to be done with all things Scottish.

Thirty-One

“Just as a reminder, you don’t have to speak loudly or do anything special to be heard. Just talk in your regular voice,” the pretty PA tells me, smiling shyly at me. She adjusts the mic pack that I’m wearing and then steps back, a flush in her cheeks. “Can I get you guys to both do a mic check for me, please?”

James is looking at his phone, his legs crossed and the top button of his dark shirt unbuttoned. We are in our parents’ living room preparing for a televised interview. But he’s hardly paying attention, his eyes fastened on his screen.

I lean over to the floral chair he’s slumped in, giving his shoulder a hard flick. He looks up, scowls at me sitting across from him, and stands up. “What? The fucking interviewer isn’t even here yet.”

The PA glances at him with a gulp. I give her a reassuring smile. “We’re fine. Give us a minute, will you? My brother, while uncouth, does have a good point. Can you please make sure we are not recorded until the interview begins? Nothing that we say is on the record until the interviewer arrives.”