Because it says, "Callum MacTaggart."
My best mate wants to talk to me. I can guess why, but I've avoided speaking to him ever since I came home from Scotland. It's childish, I know. Rather than behaving like a coward, I need to start removing the tarnish from my reputation by acting like an adult.
Still, I wait through two more rings before I answer. "Hello, Callum."
Do I say that in a tone reminiscent of a man about to be hung from the gallows? Possibly.
"What's fashing you?" Callum asks. "Do ye know how many times I've rung you but only got your voice mail?"
I can hear the concern in his voice, and it triggers an itch under my skin. "Nothing is 'fashing' me. I'm feeling wonderful today."
"Like hell you are. I know ye too well to believe that."
Bollocks. I can't even lie convincingly to Callum. How will I pull off a fake relationship with Avery? Oh, the answer isn't that hard to figure out. I'll be much more convincing with Avery because I want to shag her.
"I'm sorry, Callum," I say. "Things have been…difficult lately. Up there in the Highlands, you probably haven't seen the tabloids."
"Oh aye, we've seen the stories about you. We have the internet, ye know."
How did I not see that coming? The sodding internet goes everywhere.
"Is it true?" Callum asks. "Did ye shag a duchess?"
"Yes, unfortunately, that is true. I didn't know who she was, but I shouldn't have gotten a leg over with a stranger. It was a stupid, selfish thing to do." I rest my forehead in my palm and groan. "Now my company might be ruined as thoroughly as I am."
"Relax, Hugh, it'll pass. Tough times always do."
"You sang a different tune back when your brother sent you to physical therapy."
"But he did the right thing. I'm grateful to Jack because I would never have met Kate otherwise."
Ah, the lovely Kate. She claimed she wanted nothing to do with romance, but that only applied to me. Now Callum and Kate are planning their nuptials.
"Will ye come to the wedding?" my best mate asks. "Ye missed the engagement ceilidh, but I know you're busy. It's a lot to ask—"
"Of course I'll be there. It's not too much to ask." I've given him that impression, though, by refusing to answer his calls. He must think… Well, it hardly matters now. "I'll be there, Callum."
"It's in three weeks." He pauses. "Are you sure ye want to come?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Well, ah, in that case…" He pauses again, for longer this time. "No, I cannae ask that."
I stifle another groan because I have a feeling I know what he wants to ask me. I'd love to say absolutely no, but I was there when he fell for Kate. I know she changed his life, and I understand what that means to him. I can't say no. "The answer is yes, Callum, I will be your best man."
"Really? That's brilliant, Hugh."
"Yes, I'm excited too." But I sound like a condemned man again. "See you in three weeks."
"Donnae let your scandal get to you. Everything will work out. Bring a lass with ye to the wedding, even if she's not your soul mate. Get out there again."
Not long ago, my best mate had turned into a grumpy sod who snapped at everyone. Thanks to Kate, he's the old Callum again. And now I'm the grumpy sod who's fucked up his own life.
Callum and I say goodbye. It's time for me to bite that bullet and see if I can chew it into smaller pieces. So I ring Phillip Jenkins.
His executive assistant answers. "Jenkins Foods, Megan speaking. How may I assist you?"
"I need to speak to Mr. Jenkins, please," I say. "This is Hugh Parrish, the Viscount Sommerleigh, of Sommerleigh Sweets."