There was laughter in his eyes. “Not saying a word.”
“My assistant was confused. She put the wrong person through on the phone. I thought I was talking to someone else.”
Michael rubbed his hand across his jaw. “It happens.”
Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing? Because if you’re laughing, I’m going to h
ave to kill you.”
He pressed his hand to his chest. “Not laughing.”
Ella had never seen her sister so uncomfortable. “She’ll tell you about it over a bottle of whiskey when we’re in Scotland.”
“We’re not going to Scotland,” Samantha said. “And you could buy a distillery and I would still never repeat a word of that conversation to Michael.”
“But think about it. This could be perfect.” Ella’s mind was working. “You said the place was exactly right for your clients. You wanted to check it out. You were going to check it out until you totally humiliated yourself with the owner—”
“Thanks for the reminder—”
“But are you really going to let this perfect place, a place that could be the jewel in your Christmas crown, slip from your fingers just because you are embarrassed?”
Samantha tilted her head to one side. “Yes,” she said. “That’s a pretty accurate summary of my current strategy.”
Ella couldn’t believe this was her sister talking. Her sister, who had such great instincts when it came to her business. Her sister who, unlike her, was never afraid to stand up for what she wanted. “But don’t you see? If we all come, then it won’t be embarrassing.”
“Not following your logic there. The phone call still happened. And all of you being there just provides witnesses to further embarrassment.”
“You can brazen it out. Don’t tell me a guy in his sixties has never weathered an embarrassing moment before.” Ella warmed to her theme. “Imagine how perfect it could be. They want to sell a perfect Christmas. No one is a better judge of their skills than us.” Ella had a mental image of a cozy living room with plaid and soaring sofas. She imagined sitting with Michael snuggled on a window seat overlooking the loch, sipping champagne while Tab slept safely tucked up in their room upstairs. “Think about it! Whiskey in front of a roaring log fire, Scottish gin tasting—”
“Forget tasting. I’m going to need all the gin and all the whiskey if we do this.” Samantha sighed. “Everything inside me is shrieking that this is a mistake.”
“The worst that happens is that you don’t like the place and decide not to use it for clients.”
Samantha looked at her in disbelief. “Ella, that is not the worst thing that can happen.” She turned to Michael. “Talk sense into her. Tell her this isn’t a good idea.”
He shook his head. “I have always wanted to visit Scotland. I have two weeks’ vacation booked. It sounds perfect to me.”
Ella took his hand, suddenly excited. “Maybe this will work. Mom might be on her best behavior if Michael is there.”
“Why? What difference will he make? He is a physical representation of your terrible decisions.”
“Thanks.” Michael’s tone was dry. “I handle difficult people every day in my work. I’m sure I can handle your mother.”
“Overconfidence is never a good thing,” Samantha said darkly.
“She invited us to her place for tea once she’s out of the hospital,” Michael said, “so let’s start with that and see how it goes from there.”
“Ironic, really, that our mother is pushing us to make what will probably turn out to be the worst decision we’ve ever made.” Samantha watched as Tab picked up a wand and waved it in their direction.
“Macadamia,” she announced in a forceful tone. “I’m making a wish.”
“I think you mean abracadabra,” Ella said. “What are you wishing for?”
“I want to spend Christmas with Nanna.”
“You don’t know your nanna.” It felt so strange using that name. It conjured up thoughts of a kindly woman who handed out cookies. Ella couldn’t square that image with her mother.
“If I spend Christmas with her, I’ll know her.” Ever logical, Tab waved the wand.