Ian and I flew back to Edinburgh in his private jet. Now that we were together, there was no question in either of our minds, we never wanted to be apart again. I moved right into his apartment.
We'd already made the decision, but when he saw the flat I was living in with so many other roommates, he nearly hit the roof. “This is where you've been living?” he asked in a hissed whisper once we got into my bedroom. “This place is a pigsty!”
“This coming from the man who used to live in the crumbling mausoleum?” I had to remind him. “When I first saw that place, I thought it looked like the set of a vampire movie.”
“Point taken,” he had to agree, helping me pack my belongings. Grumbling, he added, “I did not like the way that guy looked at you out there. He seemed shady.”
Again, I had to remind him who it was talking. “You were the shadiest character when I first met you.”
“And look what I did to you. I corrupted you right to the bone, didn’t I?” He took me into his arms, kissing me as we embraced. He gave me a satisfied smile.
I had to agree. “I'm happy that you did.”
His apartment was very fancy, in a luxury building, but it lacked the touch of home. We hung up some of my artwork, bought a few more pieces that we both liked. He filled the rooms with music I hadn't heard before, introduced me to books I'd never heard about, but my favorites would always be romances.
We didn't try to hide our status, and the higher-ups at Callahan and Spence did raise eyebrows about our relationship. Deirdre called me into her office and questioned me about it.
“Is this a consensual relationship?” she asked.
“What do you think?” I shot back. Ian was hot as shit and rich to boot. Half the women I knew had tried to get with him.
“Are you doing this so you can get ahead with your career? Because if you are—”
“Deirdre,” I cut her off. “I'm doing this because I'm in love with him. I've been in love with him for a year and a half now. And I plan on being in love with him for the rest of my life. So if this firm has a problem with that, tell me now because if it does, Ian is staying and this job is going.”
She'd never heard me talk quite so bluntly or directly before. It had a positive effect. She nodded, more respect in her eyes for me than I'd ever seen before. “All right then,” she agreed. “People are going to talk. But as long as you don't let it affect your work—”
“It won't,” I assured her. And I made sure that it didn't. If anything, I cared even more about making sure our work with Douglas Distillery went well.
The launch with the new logo to a distribution five times as large as Douglas had been reaching in previous years took a lot of time and effort from everyone on the team, but it paid off. Ian was right. The scotch was fantastic. We created a social media campaign that went viral, featuring elderly people and young hipsters both talking about how much they liked Douglas Scotch. The catch was they were all wearing the same clothes, with checked jackets, polyester pants and Macintosh caps, not to mention the slim mustaches.
It was Jax’s grandfather, Ace, who had given us the idea. He'd talked to both of us at the wedding reception, sporting a plaid jacket and the kind of hat you saw old Scottish men wearing in pubs—and hipsters. “Here's what you do,” he'd told us. “You make it clear that if you're cool, it doesn't matter how old you are, you're cool. And you drink Douglas Scotch.”
We'd run with it, and it had been a huge hit. We'd kept old Aengus Douglas as the face of the brand, realizing that was part of the appeal of a Scotch that dated back over 200 years. But we gave his portrait some swagger, sketching him a Macintosh cap as he winked and gave the buyer the thumbs-up. People loved it.
At night, Ian and I enjoyed dinners and concerts, making some friends in the area. We felt like a little corporate couple, dressed in our spiffy clothes, taking meetings and doing calls. But together, lying in the dark, it was just the two of us, as we had always been.
“Do you like being a corporate titan now?” I asked him one night, tracing a finger down his bare chest.
“Is that what I am?” he asked. “Funny, that's how I always thought of my father.”
His father ran a billion-dollar hedge fund, so I knew he really wasn't quite in that league. But Douglas Distillery was thriving and he was at the helm. “I think you’re a corporate titan,” I declared.
“With you by my side, I feel like I can do anything.” He always said exactly the right thing.
* * *
§
* * *
One weekend, not too long after we got back, I took Ian back to meet my family. Standing in our tiny kitchen, it felt like a lifetime ago that I'd lived there, fighting with my siblings, trying to fill in for my mom.
“Isn't he the one who was a jerk to you?” Jess whispered by my side, staring at Ian as if he were an alien landed in our home.
“It's so good to finally meet you.” My mother handled it like the class act she was, giving him a warm hug, fixing him tea as we all crowded round our too-small kitchen table. He charmed them all, bragging about how wonderful I was, how they should see me in action at the advertising agency. Hearing him adore me so openly warmed them to him.
My mother still found a moment with me, just the two of us as everyone grabbed jackets or used the bathroom before we hopped in the car. We were all driving to Kensington School to go see Brian.
“Is he good to you?” she asked.
“So good. I’m so in love with him, mum. He was going through a lot of pain before, but he’s so strong. You wouldn’t believe how strong he is.”
“Well, he looks like a strapping young man I’ll give you that.” She still sounded a little unconvinced. “You're sure? After everything that happened? He's good to you?”
I expressed it in terms I knew she'd understand. “H
e's good to me like Dad was to you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t make me cry,” she warned.
“Don’t make me cry,” I returned, feeling my eyes well up, too.
“Give me a hug.” She gave me a big one. “I’m so happy for you.”
I'd been on the Kensington campus many times before, visiting my mother, but that afternoon felt so special. Knowing that Ian had funded the program that benefited my brother, my heart swelled so big. We all had lunch together, enjoying the menu my mother had created and her kitchen staff had prepared. Brian joined us and it had to be the happiest I'd ever seen him. He was like the mayor of campus, greeting everyone, getting high fives. It was clear he'd found his place.
“We can't tell you how much this has meant to our family,” my mother said to Ian, struggling with words over her emotion.
“Your daughter means all the world to me.” Ian stopped her from saying more. “I’d do anything for Annie.”
Back in the car, we drove slowly to Edinburg, not in a rush. We stopped at a breathtaking scenic vista overlooking the Hills and Dales of our fair country.
“You know,” I began, “starting that special needs program is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“I'd start a hundred if it would make you happy.”
What could I say to that? He took my breath away. We chatted easily all the way back, but once we returned to our apartment I could tell something else was on both of our minds. We’d been busy, spending time with family, working long hours. But we still needed to play.
“I want you in the bedroom with nothing on.” Ian looked at me, dark and wicked, and I caught my breath. I wasted no time. He’d shown me how much I enjoyed following his orders.
I hustled to the bedroom and stripped. Lying on the sheets, completely naked, anticipation wound its way up and down my limbs. He hadn’t even touched me yet and I already felt wet. Impatient, I slid a finger down. My eyes closed in a hiss of pleasure as I sank into my pussy, slick and aroused as I waited for Ian.