Golden Luckenbooth

Sixty-Eight

I stare at the message on my phone, wondering how he knows where I am.

Since you're here, you might as well come in.

Had Conor messaged him? Was Harry outside in the rain watching me? When I glance at the gates to the drive, I spot the cameras, and the pieces of the puzzle click into place. He saw me – or his security detail saw me – on the cameras. Now the electronic gate is opening, and I bite my lip.

Despite the entrance inviting me to join another rainy afternoon at a place where I had been blissfully happy, I falter. Should I go home? Does he think I'm spying on him? Am I spying on him? Is this what I had hoped for without consciously realising it?

What's with the hesitation?

You're here. Come in.

My fingers fly across the keyboard. I don't want to interrupt you. It's an accident that I've managed to end up here.

I start typing out a longer explanation, and I'm confident he's watching the three dots on his phone, likely impatiently tapping his foot.

Explain it to me inside.

UGH! I didn't want this to happen.

Or did I?

Turning the truck's steering wheel, I pull through the gates, watching to see if Conor follows behind, but he seems content to pull in at the gate as it is closing and plant himself as a barrier to my exit – or someone else's entrance.

I park in the drive, not planning to stay long. I'll just pop in, explain what happened, and leave again. It will be a blip, and Harry won't be disturbed by my presence. Getting out of the truck, I open the back door to let Shortbread out, and she races around the grass, sniffing scents of rain and whoever else has been outside recently. Or she smells Harry.

The front door opens, and although I wasn't intimidated last time we were in the space, this time, I find myself with sweaty palms. It's Emma, Harry's assistant, who opens the door.

"Dr. Anna! Hi! What a pleasant surprise!" She sweeps the door open wider. "Hurry. Come inside before you get soaked through."

Her words imply that somehow the typical Scottish drizzle will drench me as much as a plunge in the pond. I know better. It's more like a fine mist at the moment. Shortbread has no such hesitation. She squats and pees on a particular spot before bounding into the manor and disappearing. Presuming that she's found Harry, I refrain from barrelling after her. It would be impolite.

Not to mention I haven't decided what I'm going to say to him.

The truth, of course.

But how will he take it?

Stalling is a much better option.

"Let me take your jacket," Emma offers, holding out her hands. Turning my back to her, I allow her to remove the light jacket that says Playdium Skate Club from my shoulders, knowing that she likely bought it for Harry at some point. Or perhaps it was a gift to him? Either way, she will recognise it as his.

Don't ask me why I wore it today. Maybe I just wanted to feel closer to him, okay?

"Do you want a cup of tea?" she asks gently. "I've got chamomile or a nice lemon and ginger."

"No thank you," I respectfully decline. "I won't be here long."

"Oh?"

She seems surprised as though showing up with no luggage is some sort of indicator that I'm planning to stay for a week. Then I remember the well-stocked changing room upstairs filled with sweaters and pants that will fit me precisely because this exceptionally skilled woman will have made sure of it. Even though she had no idea I would be here again.