merely folded her arms over her short, stout figure, and sighed the sigh of the long put upon. “You’re quite well aware of yer appearance, lad. Dinnae pretend to be all aghast. We’ve got a shot at it, or so Miss Vandergriff believes. I trust her opinion.”
“She’s not a fashion or a model photographer.” About as far from the pretty and the shiny as she could get, actually. Despite efforts to the contrary, Roan hadn’t been successful in eliminating Kira’s houseguest from his thoughts. At all. So he’d finally given in and done his research, telling himself it was merely the wise thing to do, given the level of responsibility they’d placed in her hands—which was a lie he hadn’t been able to sustain for the time it took to Google her name.
When the long list of responses to his search had scrolled onto the screen he’d stopped telling himself anything. He’d been too busy reading. And reading some more. To say he’d been impressed—and, aye, intimidated—by everything she’d achieved at barely a few years past the age of thirty, would be as vast an understatement as saying that he was only a wee bit stunned at what she’d witnessed by that same young age.
“I’m fairly certain her list of awards qualifies her to be a judge of just about any subject that can be caught on film,” Eliza rejoined. “So if she thinks yer pleasant-enough features are the ones we should be pinning our hopes on, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Pleasant-enough is it now? Wasn’t it just last week when you referred to my assets, as it were, as God-given?”
“Well, they all are from his hand,” she said, then glanced over Roan with studied disregard. “No matter the abundance. Or lack thereof.”
Roan had to laugh at that, and caught Eliza’s satisfied smile as well. Theirs was a well-honed routine and though neither would have admitted it, they enjoyed the challenge and the comfort to be found in their spirited exchanges.
“Well, then might I just say I’m surprised that my lack of abundance, as you put it, will be put on display for the judges’ panel. Surely there are other candidates—”
“Well, there would have been Shay, had he returned from Edinburgh in time. I’m certain he’d have taken your place. Easily.”
Roan didn’t rise to the bait. “And I’d have gladly let him. But what about—” He flipped through the discard stack, but the mere sight of his clansmen, ridiculous and goofy grins on each and every face, simply didn’t bear perusing. He definitely wasn’t ready to see the same expression on his own face.
He put the discard stack down, and didn’t touch the envelope with the finalists’ photos—all of which featured him. He glanced up to find Eliza still standing there, staring him down.
“I’ll … handle it,” he told her. “Thank you for bringing them in.” He should be thankful he only had Eliza to deal with. When he’d gotten word she’d be dropping them off earlier that day, he’d expected a showdown with Tessa—which did nothing to explain his disappointment when he’d learned she’d merely left the photos with his secretary.
“The deadline is—”
“Friday. I know.” He blew out a short huff of annoyance, then made himself smile. It was his only hope of getting his privacy back. “I willnae be missing it, rest assured.”
“I’m sure. We’re all countin’ on ye, lad.” Eliza pointed to the discard pile. “Dinnae be thinkin’ of making any substitutions, is all I’m sayin’. We’re trusting Tessa’s experience. We’re fortunate she was here and willing.”
“Aye, I know it.”
Her gaze narrowed, but when she couldn’t shake his ready smile, she finally nodded. “Good. I’ll post the package when you have it ready. Ferry schedule is changing tomorrow. Coming at half past now, instead of on the hour.”
“Got it,” Roan said, his smile tightening. “Were you able to get hold of the Malaysian distributor? Set up a call?”
Eliza bristled, as he’d known she would. “Of course I did. Set it up for tomorrow at seven.”
“In the morning?”
“I should hope so. You wouldn’t want to be trying to set up a distributorship at three in the morning Kuala Lumpur time, would ye?”
“Right. Seven. In the morning. Brilliant.” He swiveled his chair so he faced his laptop screen. “I’d better go over my notes, make sure they’re coherent enough for me to interpret at the crack of dawn.”
“If ye didnae stay up so late working, it wouldnae seem so early to ye. The rest of the world rises every day as the sun comes up.”
“Which is why I thank the world every day I have a job that leaves rising at such an ungodly hour to those who appreciate it.” When she continued to give him the chiding eye, he turned and smiled more sincerely at her. “Thank you for setting it all up, Eliza. I appreciate all that ye do, and well ye must know it.”
She harrumphed … but finally retreated from the field of battle. “Wouldn’t be able to keep this place afloat for ten minutes if I weren’t around to—” Her grumbling was mercifully cut off as she closed the door behind her, though he could have recited the rest from memory.
Lips curving as they typically did after a hearty round, he brought up the notes he’d taken for the new distributor. After a few minutes of staring at them and retaining nothing, he swore under his breath and gave up pretending he was going to get anything else done until he’d dealt with the more pressing matter at hand—looking at those damn photos.
Just as his hand was hovering over the packet, there was a tap on the door, which opened before he could respond.
Katie stuck her blond head in first, a smile on her face. “I heard a rumor that the finalists have been chosen! Or, should I say, finalist?”
“Go away.”
She just laughed. “Ha! So you are the chosen one. I knew it! Lemme see!”
She came dancing into the office and he barely had time to snatch the packet off his desk and out of her reach before she lunged for it. “What do you mean, you knew it?” He frowned. “Don’t tell me Tessa went and announced it at Angus’s or something.”
“Since when does anyone have to make an announcement around here for word to get out? Actually, Tessa didn’t say anything. If you want to blame someone, you can aim that at Blaine. And he only told me. So far,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Blaine?” He turned his chair to face her directly. “How the hell—”
“From Kira.”
“Kira?” He leaned back in his chair. “What did she say?”
Katie shook her head, a look of pity on her face. “You were all ready to throw Blaine under the bus before I even explained, but I bring up Kira and suddenly you’re all thoughtful and open to listening.”
“Because Blaine loves gossip second only to … well, nothing, as far as I can tell. And Kira wouldn’t hurt a soul, much less blurt out something like that, to someone like him.”
“Careful,”
