Page 23 of Highlands Summer Wedding

I zipped my fleece and switched to video as the mist crawled in like a cat slowly approaching its prey. The boundary between earth and sky dissolved. We’d crossed into somewhere else entirely.

“So do the fairies live in the mountains? I’ve heard stories about strange goings-on in similar areas, like Mount Shasta in California or Mount Bugarach in France.”

“If it’s not the Good Folk, then it’s stories of UFOs. When it’s not UFOs, it’s angelic beings. I dunno. But it’s all great fodder for films.”

“You’ve got me there.” I looked out at the green rolling hills and the trail ahead of us. The hills ahead definitely looked like a setting for a Spielberg film.

“You used to write that kind of thing.” Max’s eyes met mine.

I looked away. “Yeah.”

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Want to take a crack at a selkie film?”

I blinked, struck speechless.Are you freaking kidding me?

“I’m serious. I’ll set you up on a WGA contract. My agent can recommend an agent to represent you. We’ll make a deal. You can take all the time you need. I’d love to see your version of this…” He swept his arm across the landscape, encompassing the mist-covered mountains and sparkling river.

I’d love to create my version of this. The idea arrived whole: characters, tone, the first image. Then my stomach dropped. Wedding planning paid the bills. It gave me structure. Stability.Shit.

But Max had caught the spark in my eyes. “You’d start with a pitch,” he said, his voice quickening. “Then a one-pager, synopsis, beatsheet. Once they greenlight it, you’d have six weeks to deliver the first draft.”

I bit my lip. “Caitlin’s wedding comes first.” It wasn’t a no.

“I’ll let you borrow some of the fairy tales I’ve been reading. Mythologies. Histories. All that. It’s fascinating.”

Before we could continue the conversation, the clouds split open, unleashing sheets of rain that transformed the path into a muddy mess within seconds. I yanked my hood up and hunched my shoulders against the downpour. All around us, the spell broke as tourists abandoned their fairytale moment. By the time we reached the car park, my socks were soaked through and the mist-shrouded mountains had vanished behind a gray curtain of water.

As we settled into the nice dry car with the heat blasting, Max turned to me. “I have some things to do today, but meet me for dinner at the pub in town tonight?”

“There’s only one pub in town?”

CHAPTER 9

Max had a meeting with a producer, so I had the house to myself. I tugged on some worn jeans and pulled on my fleece jacket. Cup of tea in hand, I wandered onto the deck and watched the birds skimming over the loch.

My phone rang. Caitlin’s name flashed across the screen. “We’re going to get lunch and explore Portree. Should we pick you up?”

“Sure. But you really need to come in and see the view from this place.”

Caitlin and Angus stepped out onto the deck. Angus took one look at the view and declared it “dead brilliant.” We headed to their rental car, where I filled the drive with stories of the Fairy Pools.

“That does sound like it could be a great place for a wedding,” said Caitlin.

“Oh, Max was actually talking about the Fairy Glen for a wedding. These were the Fairy Pools. I thought we were going to the glen, and maybe Max did too, but we ended up at the wrong place.”

Caitlin sent a soft smile toward Angus. “Wrong places around here sound like happy accidents.”

Angus put his arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“We could go now?” I offered, my gaze drifting between them.

“Tomorrow might be better,” Caitlin suggested. “When we haven’t been trudging all over the Highlands.”

“I’m having dinner at the pub in town—the one by the water. With Max. Would you like to join us?”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you’re back together?”

“God, no!”Says the woman sharing a cottage in Scotland with her ex. What are you doing, Abby?