She snorts. "Which means 'hell will freeze over before I take your advice, you daft bairn.' Aye?"
"I'll talk to you later, Jamie. And please don't tell Lachlan or Rory about this call."
"Maybe I should go to America. Lachlan met Erica there, and now you've found a girl there too. Does America have magic air or water or something?"
"Bugger off, ye cheeky bairn. And no, do not come anywhere near the United States of America."
She makes a snarky huffing sound. "If it's good enough for you and Lachlan—"
"No, Jamie."
Have I convinced my sister to stay away from America? Probably not, but Rory and Lachlan will straighten her out if she mentions her daft idea to them. At least Jamie agrees not to tell our brothers that I rang her, and we say goodbye. Honestly, I thought Jamie would be more understanding. I'm on my own.
All right. What should I do now?
While I mull over my plan, which consists of nothing so far, I make myself breakfast in Erica's kitchen. Or her parents' kitchen. Does it really matter who claims ownership? I'm using it now. After eating, I take a shower. Then I decide I really should go to a gift shop and buy presents for my family. Lachlan always does that when he's away, and I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm too skint to afford to treat my brothers and sisters. I am skint, but I have a credit card. Lachlan would probably buy gifts at a shop so expensive I couldn't afford to buy a toothbrush without overtaxing my credit card.
I take a taxi to the area the driver tells me is a popular district for shopping, especially for tourists. Am I a tourist? I guess I must be. I wander down the street for three blocks, but don't see any shops I like. So much for that plan. By the time I get back to the house, it's lunchtime, so I make myself a sandwich and eat it before considering my next move. I wash the dishes too. And take the rubbish out to the bin behind the house. Then I get online and hire a car without leaving the sofa. Aye, I might be procrastinating. Maybe I'm afraid Calli will tell me to sod off, or however Americans tell someone to go away.
Afraid? Me? Bloody hell. That won't do at all.
I grab my mobile, find Calli's number, and dial it.
After two rings, she answers. "Hello?"
"You sound sleepy. Did I wake you?"
Silence.
"Are you there?" I ask.
"Yes."
I clear my throat. "Is it too soon to ring you?"
"No, I guess not. You don't waste any time, do you?"
I sigh and chuckle. "Impulsive, remember?"
More silence.
"What are you doing?" I ask, hoping to sound casually interested and not desperate to hear the answer. Aye, that means I'm lying with my tone of voice.
"Not sleeping," she says, sounding a touch snippy. "Sorry. I get grumpy when I'm tired. Exhausted from the trip."
"Tell me one thing before we say goodbye."
"What do you want to know?"
"Are you with anyone? A husband, a boyfriend, a lover?"
She hesitates. "I'm not interested in starting anything."
"Hmm." I hesitate now, because I'm not sure how to proceed. "You seemed interested at the club and again after the wedding."
"I'm not having sex with you."
"Sex? Didnae mention that. I meant seeing each other as in dating." Since I have my opening, I can't resist lowering my voice to a husky murmur. "But if you'd rather skip straight to the good part…"