Page 51 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander

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“And what made you leave Edinburgh, Doctor McLeod? You worked at a major hospital, your career was promising… why give all that up for a small rural practice?”

The words lodge in my throat.

I can’t tell the truth.

Not here.

Not now.

Not in front of strangers already judging me.

“I needed a change of pace.”

“Hm,” Maggie hums.

That single sound contains a remarkable amount of polite disbelief.

“And you, Mary,” suddenly interjects Isobel, Callum and Keira’s mother, whom I hadn’t noticed sitting near the bookshelves. “When are you finally going to introduce someone to us? You haven’t decided to become an old maid, I hope?”

Mary nearly chokes on her wine.

“Mom!” Keira protests.

“What? It’s a legitimate question. At your age, I was already married with two children.”

“Times have changed, Aunt Isobel,” Lachlan says with amusement.

“Not that much,” she shoots back. “Jane and Callum. Keira and Alistair. Emma and you. Everyone found someone. Except Mary.”

“I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you,” Mary replies tightly.

“Of course, of course,” Maggie says soothingly, though the tone sounds entirely fake. “But you must admit it would be nice to have someone to share your life with. Someone who understands you.”

I feel like I should intervene.

Say something.

Anything to redirect attention.

But what exactly can I say?

I don’t know Mary.

I don’t know anyone here.

“And Jamie?” Maggie suddenly asks, like a cat toying with a mouse. “There wasn’t something between the two of you?”

Mary turns very pale.

Then very red.

“No.”

“Really?” Maggie presses. “Because Moira MacTavish told me she saw you together at the pub several times.”

“Moira MacTavish should mind her own business,” Mary mutters.

Amen to that.

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