Page 150 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
“Really?”
“Really. When do we start?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Before or after the Highland Games?”
I look around the clinic.
The yellowed walls. The cracked linoleum. McKinnon’s framed photographs staring down at me.
“Before. I want it done as fast as possible.”
“That’s gonna be tight. Unless you help.”
“Fine by me. So you can do it?”
Nate picks up the list again, this time studying it professionally.
“Paint’s easy. Hardwood flooring’s gonna be rough, but manageable if we work nonstop. Furniture—I know suppliers. The sign, I can order today.”
He glances up.
“But you’ll need permission from the town council. It’s their building.”
My stomach tightens.
“Duncan Fraser.”
“Exactly. You’ll have to present your project officially.”
Of course.
Naturally.
I can’t just decide to renovate the clinic without warning. I have to announce it publicly. Risk rejection. Show all of Glenfield that I fully intend to stay.
“You scared?” Nate asks.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe a little,” I admit, remembering the disaster at the bed-and-breakfast.
He sets the list down and looks me straight in the eye.
“Listen to me. The council’s been waiting months for this request. They want the clinic modernized. They’re even willing to help fund part of it. They want you to stay. The village already accepted you, Finn. You’re the one refusing to accept that you finally found a place to belong.”
“That was incredibly inspirational. Did you rehearse that speech?”
“Lily made me practice it in the car.”
Despite myself, I smile.
Nate folds the list and pulls out his phone.
“I’m gonna take measurements and get estimates together. You sure about the blue-gray paint?”
