Donna Grant: Fire Rising

“Jane. It’s me,” Sammi said with a big smile. It quickly faded as she groaned. “I don’t know how to be casual. She’s going to see right through me.”

Nothing had been easy since she ran away from the docks. She didn’t want to chance using her credit cards out of fear the Mob might find her. She couldn’t even access her bank account for the same reason. At least Daniel’s money had been where he had said it was. That alone was what kept her alive.

She resorted to stealing cars that would be better off becoming a pile of metal than a mode of transportation. But she shouldn’t complain. The piece of shite she was driving now had managed to go fifty miles without breaking down.

“Just get me to Dreagan, P.O.S., and I won’t be tempted to torch you.”

As if to let Sammi know she wasn’t in control, the 1982 Morris Marina sputtered before the engine revved again.

Sammi forgot about the car and went back to finding a way to greet Jane without causing suspicion. She had gone through two more scenarios when she slowed the car as she came upon the turn Jane had told her about over a year ago, when she’d invited Sammi to a party after her and Banan’s wedding.

Another invitation she had made up an excuse not to attend. What kind of person was she to lie and not go to her sister’s wedding party?

She didn’t know how she remembered it since Sammi had been taking orders at the pub while on the phone, but somehow she had. And she was most thankful.

Slowing the car, Sammi drove down the long, winding road with two mountains flanking either side of her. On one occasion she thought she glimpsed someone in the dense trees, but it must have been her imagination, which was on overdrive since the incident, as she now called what had happened in Oban.

Sammi felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as Dreagan Industries came into view. Jane had invited her several times, but she had never been able to leave the pub. Now, as she took in the spectacular views, Sammi wished she would have.

She parked the car and wondered where the house was. Jane lived on the property, but all Sammi saw were buildings used for the production of Dreagan’s famous whisky.

For several minutes, she simply took in the white buildings with their red roofs, the sounds of the stills, and the tranquility that seemed to be a part of Dreagan itself as she got out of the car.

Jane had said Dreagan consisted of sixty thousand acres. From what Sammi could see, there wasn’t a part of it that didn’t take her breath away.

For the first time in over a month, Sammi didn’t feel that tickle on the back of her neck that said she was being watched. A look around confirmed that there were no suspicious cars, no dubious men who might be following her.

Maybe here she could finally relax. If for only a few days. She wouldn’t stay longer and bring the Mob to Jane’s doorstep. Not to mention Sammi was certain Jane’s husband, Banan, wouldn’t appreciate bad men coming and destroying the beauty of Dreagan.

“Are you here for the job too?”

Sammi jerked, startled by the voice behind her. The movement pulled at her slow-healing wound, causing her to hold her left arm against her side for protection. She turned to find a young woman with glossy black hair falling over one shoulder.

The woman’s black eyes glanced down to Sammi’s arm, concern clouding her face. “Are you hurt? Can I help?”

Sammi swallowed and gradually loosened her arm. “I’ll be all right, thanks.”

“You didn’t see how pale you were.”

“American, right?” Sammi asked to change the subject.

The woman briefly looked away as she nodded. “My mother was from South Africa while my father had dual citizenship with the US and Spain.”

“How interesting.” As a bartender, Sammi had a knack for spotting people who had a story to tell, and she could see that this woman was one of them.

She took a step closer and shoved her mane of midnight hair off her shoulder. “At least let me help you inside so you can collect yourself before the interview.”

Sammi instantly liked the woman, American accent and all. There was just something about her that told Sammi the woman was as kindhearted as the day was long.

“I’m not here for the interview,” Sammi told her.

The woman paused before she gave a little laugh. “Well, I’m glad. I really need this job.”

“Forget any competition. You have a natural ability with people. If the job involves that, they’d be fools not to give it to you.”

The woman beamed, her large black eyes crinkling in the corners. “Thank you. I’m Lily, by the way. Lily Ross.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lily. I’m Sammi.”

Lily moved her purse to her other shoulder, causing the sleeve of her sweater that was at least three sizes too big to fall and reveal a huge bruise on her arm.

“That’s one hell of a bruise,” Sammi remarked.

Lily laughed as she moved her sweater over it. “I’m as clumsy as they come. A laundry basket filled high and shoes in the middle of the floor, and I’m a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

“You should get along with Jane famously.” Sammi made a mental note not to have anything breakable around when Lily and Jane were together.

Lily looked Sammi up and down, a frown marring her forehead. “You need to sit. Shall I help you inside?”

“I think I’ll be okay, but I will walk with you.”

They had only gone a few steps when Lily asked, “How do you know I would be a good fit to interact with people?”

“It’s a gift I’ve always had. I can look at a person and just know. I used to run a pub, and I learned quickly that only certain kinds of people could work there and be successful. People like you.”

Lily smiled as she looked at the ground.

When she didn’t say anything, Sammi decided to push her a little. “What kind of job is it you’ll be interviewing for?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too important. It’s for the gift shop.”

“So you would be selling the Dreagan whisky to tourists?”

“I would.”

“It’s perfect for you. Be confident when you go in. And remember, it is an important job, because it’ll be yours.”

Lily’s smile widened, making the charming girl into a real beauty. She wore very little makeup and her clothes were too big and very drab.

Sammi, who had never had a close girlfriend, suddenly wanted to go shopping with Lily and outfit her with proper attire. Something bright and bold to complement her coloring. It must have been all the weeks hiding from the Mob that was messing with her mind.

It was a good thing they came to the door of the shop before Sammi did something really stupid and offer to bring Lily shopping, which might truly offend the woman. Lily might enjoy dressing as a sixty-year-old. Some women were just like that.

Despite her attire, Lily was a striking beauty with her black hair, black eyes, and mocha skin. The same couldn’t be said for her, but Sammi had learned to work with her stubborn hair and pale complexion early in life, thanks to her mother.

As soon as they entered the shop, Sammi looked around at the shelves that covered the walls and were filled with bottles of Dreagan whisky.

Some of the glass bottles where in small, colored casks denoting an added flavor in the whisky, while others were in the tall, rounded tins. There were other bottles that where about half the size, and still others that looked like some kind of cream liquor.

At the far back wall was shelving enclosed in glass with the bottles proudly displayed.

“Those would be the fifty-year-old scotches, and ones that are even older. They’re highly prized by collectors, and highly priced as well,” Lily said.