“Do you have any questions?” Sofia asked, looking up at him, her lips pressed in a trained smile.
“Nae. Thank ye, for the tour.” Overwhelmed by the luxury, he ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I’ve ever stayed in a finer hotel.”
His words caused a broad grin to grace Sofia’s face. “Well, it’s our hope our guests from all over the world feel among family during their stay. Luxury lives in the details here at The Lowell. Please, let our concierge know if you need anything.”
“Aye. I will. Thank ye very much.”
When the door to the suite finally clicked shut, Mac leaned his back against the polished wood and scanned the indulgent space spread out before him like a feast taunting a starving man. Mainstream Records owner, Donald Lamont, had indeed shown his appreciation with the generous accommodations, an indication they were well on their way to making a considerable profit for the label. It was really happening – Mac was on the cusp of the biggest tour of his career, and his life. It was a dream-come-true for this braw Scot. From his humble beginnings growing up in Aberdeen, to hitting legitimate rock star status preparing for his first world tour in New York City. He was a man without a pedigree living the high life in one of the most sought after places on the planet. To remember this moment was pivotal, and something he’d never forget. If only he had someone to share it with.
Chapter Fifteen
Nicky leaned on the top rail of the traditional white ranch fencing that bordered the expansive meadow where her mother’s goats nibbled on faded grasses and napped under the big maple trees. She reflected on her blessings. The farm was her home, her respite, and a place where she felt safe and loved. It was also her livelihood, where her career had taken off and was something to be proud of. There was much to do with the upcoming weekend wedding already on the schedule. By mid-week, she’d be swamped with vendors delivering flowers and food items, decorations, and gifts from out-of-town relatives. Anxious brides and mothers would start calling countless times ticking off their to-do lists, and Nicky’s calm demeanor would fend off full-blown meltdowns.
Thank goodness the season slowed by the end of the summer, with only a few more weddings on the calendar before she shut things down for the holidays. She’d learned the hard way the year before, accidentally double-booking herself through the holiday months and missing her favorite season altogether. With hindsight being twenty-twenty, she vowed to never make the same mistake again. She looked forward to some downtime – when kids went back to school, and northerners braced for the colder weather. The busy season was almost over, and she couldn’t be happier. Well, there was someone that could make her even happier, but he was off being a rock star in the big city.
The warm air blew her long hair back from her face, and she sighed, wondering what Mac was doing at the moment. Was he checking into his hotel room? Or maybe he was reuniting with his cousin and bandmates? Was he thinking about her? Amber’s comments about love at first sight swirled through her mind.
Impossible.
“Hey.”
Nicky’s thoughts were interrupted, and she angled her head to watch her mother approach with two sturdy tumblers in her hands. “Whatcha got there?” she teased, knowing her mother was on a mission to cheer her up since Mac’s departure.
“Sangria,” she touted, rolling the ‘r’ and accentuating the ‘a’ at the end, handing her a tall, frosty cup.
“Sangria? On a weekday?” Nicky scolded, her dimples warmed by her mother’s attempts.
“Mmhmm,” she replied with nonchalance, mirroring her daughter’s stance. Her arms rested on the fence, and errant, graying tendrils of hair from her long braid blew back in the breeze. Dressed in faded jeans, cowboy boots, and a vintage rock and roll tee, the average Joe off the streets would swear the woman was in her late twenties.
Nicky sipped the lush cocktail full of bite-sized bits of ripe berries, apple slices, and citrus, the Spanish red wine tangy with lemon zest and something else decadently sweet.
“Did you put fresh peaches in this?” she asked, peering into her cup.
“Yup. Picked them up at the farmer’s market over the weekend.”
“Nice touch.”
“Thanks.”
The two continued to sip and stare at the goats in the meadow, enjoying one another’s company. A tractor engine rolled over in the distance, and Nicky half expected to see her father trek across the property with a smile on his handsome face from beneath his tattered straw hat. But she knew he was in the barn working on a broken gate latch, imperative to keep their chickens in one of the coops.
“Was this Sangria meant for Dad?” Nicky asked while slowly chewing on a blueberry.
“Nope. I made it for you.”
“Why?”
Marjorie turned briefly to eye her daughter, flashing a smile reminiscent of her own. “Because I felt like it.”
Nicky rolled her eyes. “And?”
Tilting her chin into the air, her mom fixed her gaze back on the field. “And I wanted you to know – it’s okay to be melancholy, especially after a whirlwind couple of days with a man like Reid Macpherson.”
The mention of his name caused Nicky’s chest to tighten and her cheeks to heat with embarrassment. Was it obvious she’d been walking around the property sulking like a heartsick teen? Swallowing hard, she exhaled a quick breath through her nose. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
Marjorie shifted to eye her with a concerned brow. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Tilting her cup back, Nicky caught a mouthful of the alcohol-infused fruit and slowly chewed, mulling over her mother’s remarks.
“Come on.” Marjorie turned in the direction of the house. “There’s more Sangria on the porch. I made an entire pitcher.” Linking her arm through her daughter’s, the two ambled up the slight hill toward the farmhouse.
Their boots crunched on the gravel driveway a few yards before Nicky stopped and peered at her mother’s face, cupping her free hand over her eyes to yield the sun's glare. “Mom? What would you do?”
An affectionate smile lit up her mother’s face matching the golden orb of light surrounding her. “Well, you do like him, right?”
Nicky nodded quickly. “Very much so.”
“Mmhmm. And you both talked about seeing each other again?”
“Yes.” Searching her mother’s features, desperate for some kind of divine, motherly advice, she held her breath.
With her hand on one hip, Marjorie nodded. “Well, Manhattan is less than two hours away by train, and if he’s going to be there for the next month, I really don’t see what the problem is.”
Nicky groaned. “The problem is my schedule. I can’t just take off on a whim and leave couples high and dry, especially after months of coordination. I run a successful wedding business, and it’s up to me to keep it going – to make sure brides and grooms come away with memories to last a lifetime.”
Her mom shook her head. “But what about your memories?”
“I know…”
Marjorie tucked a long strand of windblown hair over Nicky’s ear before holding her chin. “Sweetie, I believe you’ve forgotten one very important part of this equation.”
Nicky’s eyes searched her mother’s. “What?”
“I’m a business owner too, and I’m more than happy to step in on your behalf.” Bopping her on the tip of her nose, she walked toward the house. “You also have a very reliable staff that could handle things if you were out of town on an extended stay.”
Following closely behind, Nicky chewed on her bottom lip, knowing her mother was on to something. But there was one more glaringly obvious detail she forgot to mention.
“But Mom, he… he hasn’t called or texted yet. What if…,” She grimaced. “God, what if I was just another one-night-stand? Another groupie statistic?”
Marjorie stopped in her tracks and bristled. “Is that how he made you feel?”
“No…I mean…I don’t know.” Nicky kicked at a rock, be
mused by her behavior. “I just wish he’d call.”
Marjorie tossed the remaining contents of her tumbler onto the grass, put an arm around Nicky’s shoulders, and squeezed. “Oh, baby girl. He will. Trust me. He will.”
***
“Ye’ve hit the jackpot, man. A terrace? In New York City?” James was loudly vocal as he toured Mac’s hotel suite, pointing out things he obviously didn’t have back at his room. “And a fireplace? This is insanity!”
Mac stood by a vintage rolling cart loaded with an assortment of heavy crystal decanters full of liquor. “Whiskey?” he offered, eyeing his cousin who peered at the curated Assouline books on the periwinkle colored shelves flanking the gas logs' flames.
“Aye. Thank ye.”
Mac handed him a rocks glass, whiskey neat. The two clinked and uttered in unison, “Slàinte.”
“We’re gonna need it,” James kidded, slapping Mac on the back. When he sat on the overstuffed couch in front of the fire, he hummed a sigh. “Now that we’re settled, tell me about the American back in Cold Creek. Did ye enjoy yer stay with her?”
Gripping the back of his neck, Mac meandered to a leather club chair closer to the fire and eased his weary body into the seat. “Aye.”
James moved forward and rested his elbows on his knees, cupping the glass with both hands. “That’s all ye’re gonna give me? An ‘aye’?”
Mac could feel heat explode across his cheeks. Good thing his auburn beard covered his skin. “It was pure barry. I didn’t want it to end, James.”
His cousin seemed taken aback by Mac’s admission, a smile twitching his handsome cheek as he took a deep gulp of his whiskey. “Canny, man. Ye sound like a lad on the verge of fallin’.”
Mac licked his lips, not daring to meet his cousin’s prying eyes. “What if I already have?” His voice was low and full of uncertainty, the very thought of not seeing Nicky again clutching his heart in a vice.
“What?” As if energized, James scooted to the far end of the sofa to be nearer his cousin. “Ye’ve fallen for her?”
Mac lifted his gaze, wary of the admission on the tip of his tongue. “Aye. I think I have. I don’t know how, or exactly when – but I can’t stop thinkin’ about her. She’s clouded my thoughts, and all I want to do is see her and talk to her. To make love to her again.” Pressing his lips together to prevent any more of his gash confession from spilling forth, Mac waited for James’ response, sure it would be petty, startled when his cousin’s voice boomed throughout the room.
“It’s about feckin’ time, Reid!”
Stunned, by the use of his given name, Mac furrowed his brow. “What?”
“It’s about time ye found a lass ye could see yerself with for more than a fortnight. Have ye called her since ye left?”
“Nae,” he responded, shaking his head. He was suddenly second-guessing his every move.
James stood and drained the last bit of dark liquid in his glass. “Well, then, I’ll leave ye to it. Call the woman. Get her to come to the Big Apple and enjoy this experience with ye. Hold some flesh and bone during the nights, not yer damn guitar. Of all people, ye deserve it, Mac. Ye deserve all of this!” Opening his hands wide, he gestured throughout the room, the broad smile on his face exuding excitement, directly aimed at him.
Mac remained seated, dumbfounded by his cousin’s blessing. When he heard the suite's door close with a click, he stood and strode to the glass doors, opening them up to the terrace. Wrought iron seating with colorful cushions were expertly arranged among boxwoods and colorful perennials in large planters. A small fountain bubbled from a black fixture in the corner, and several lanterns in various shapes and sizes were strewn about with pillar candles waiting to be lit. The faraway, eclectic sounds of the city drifted through the air from far below, muffled by the location of the hotel among the tree-lined streets. Looking up into the fading sky, a smile tugged at his bearded cheek, and he nodded. Tipping his glass back, he finished his drink and set it on the iron coffee table before pulling his phone out of his pocket. After a few clicks, he raised the phone to his ear and placed his free hand on his hip while staring at the Manhattan skyline with a new purpose.
“Hello, Nicky? It’s me, Mac.” Listening to her joy-filled response on the other end, his heart grew two sizes, his blood pumping through his veins with a sureness he’d never felt before.
“Aye, I miss ye too, terribly. But I believe I have a solution for that.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nicky stood next to her unloaded luggage in the parking lot of the train station as her mother slammed the tailgate of the pickup truck with a jolt. Nervous, she gripped the strap of her computer bag over her shoulder and nodded when her mom offered a warm, knowing smile.
“Come here,” Marjorie requested, holding her arms open wide for one last hug.
Nicky could feel tears prick the corners of her eyes, a flood of love for her mother surging through her heart. Leaving her parents in charge of her staff made her breathe a little easier, knowing they had the same work ethic and attention to detail she did. Earlier that morning, her dad had sat her down for a heart-to-heart. Her concern it would be too much for them was quickly snuffed out when he insisted his only daughter take a chance for once in her life – to experience rock and roll and the perks of being on the arm of a famous Scottish singer in the city that never sleeps.
“An opportunity like this comes along once in a lifetime, Nick. You need to go. In fact, your mother and I insist.” Her father’s voice echoed in her mind as she clung to her mother under an awning of green leaves rustling in the gentle wind. Adam Sinclair was a man of few words, but when he spoke, you listened.
“Tell Dad I love him,” Nicky implored, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.
“He knows, sweetie. It’s not like you’re leaving forever.” She cupped her cheek and smiled before shoving her hands into her jean pockets. “We’ll see you again in a month. Now you better get going. The train leaves in a few minutes.”
“Bye, Mom.”
The pickup truck kicked up dust as her mother pulled out of the lot onto Main Street. Nicky took a deep breath and suppressed a considerable grin, taking in one last look at the small-town charm of Cold Creek, ready to start her adventure and throw caution to the wind.
Once settled in the worn, cushioned seat of the passenger car with her luggage safely tagged and stored in a compartment nearby, Nicky’s stomach lurched as the locomotive jerked forward, ramping up for the ride through the familiar countryside. Propping her elbow on the window ledge and resting her chin in her hand, she smiled as she watched the world go by. Tour boats and canoes left small wakes in the dark water as they zigzagged across the Hudson River, and fluffy white clouds dotted the tips of the mountains in the distance. As they passed the beautiful, broken down façade of Bannerman Castle, she couldn’t help but grin, recalling the magical day when Mac held her undivided attention. Craning her neck to see the ruins as the train edged the banks of the river, she realized she was holding her breath in anticipation, the thrum of the steam engine pulsing to the innate rhythm of her beating heart.
Nicky’s mother was right. Mac called, and boy, what a call it was. His invitation to come to the city and stay with him during his month of rehearsals thrilled her, and with her mother and father’s insistence, everything was arranged in a matter of days. Mac warned her that the label execs put the band on a strict rehearsal schedule during the week, but his nights and weekends were wide open unless he had an appearance to make somewhere – and if that were the case, she was welcome to accompany him. Nicky assured him she had work of her own to tend to during the weekdays, making sure her business back home stayed on track with her parents at the helm. His rumbling brogue made her swoon, and she didn’t care if she only saw him for a few minutes each day, as long as she could be near him.
The entire band arrived the day before, and today was the official start of their world tour rehearsals. Because Mac would be working for m
ost of the afternoon, Nicky made arrangements to hang out with her friends, Fiona and Chris Ballard, until he was free. Fiona squealed like a little girl when Nicky called to tell her she was coming, the billionaire heiress insisting they pick her up at the station.
The country landscape soon gave way to the hard lines of the cityscape, the Metro-North train ride on the Hudson line uneventful. As the huge locomotive ran out of steam in the underground tunnels of Grand Central Station, Nicky could feel an exhilaration buzzing beneath her skin like bees in a hive. A kind employee helped get her bulky rolling luggage onto the train platform, where she gripped the handle and navigated through the crowd toward the iconic lobby.
Voices echoed in the cavernous space as travelers greeted friends and family with affection. Nicky searched the throng for familiar faces. Looking up at the lofty dome ceiling depicting the zodiac's constellations, she raked her teeth across her bottom lip, contemplating her celestial fate that brought her this far. She’d made it, to New York, to hang out for a month with none other than Scottish rocker, Reid Macpherson. In her wildest dreams, she could have never imagined such a scenario.
As she scanned the space near the four-sided brass clock tower, she spotted Chris and squealed. Standing on her tiptoes in her favorite cowboy boots, she brought two fingers up to her mouth and blew a shrill whistle, cuing Chris Ballard to scan the crowd, his face breaking into a huge grin when he spotted her.
“Nick-stick!” he hollered, throwing a hand up in the air to wave. Jogging across the expanse to the marble wall where she stood next to her parked luggage, he held his arms open wide and greeted her in a bear hug.
I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4) Page 11
