Starlight Highlanders Mail Order Brides

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

JennyThe investigator shook my hand on the way out. “Thanks for your statement. I wish every victim of domestic violence would be as willing to come forward and give evidence as you.”

“Not a victim,” I said automatically. “And you don’t have to thank me. I want him punished. Do you know how hard it is to put on a blouse while one of your arms is in a cast?”

She smiled. “Funnily enough, I do. How long do you need to wear yours?”

“Six weeks.”

“Lucky. I had mine for ten. My arm looked like it didn’t belong to me after they removed the cast, all pale and squashed. Prepare for lots of ingrown hairs.”

She led me back to the reception area. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve talked to the CPS. This should be a relatively straightforward case, so I’m confident they’ll decide to charge him. Your obvious injuries, as well as the statements from the neighbours, paint a clear picture that should lead to a conviction. We might have to do something called a victim personal statement at some point in the future, which is basically what we did today, plus giving you the chance to talk about how you’ve been affected by the abuse in the long term.”

“Is he still in custody?” I asked.

“No, he’s out on bail, but one of his bail conditions is that he’s not allowed to make contact with you in any way. If he does attempt to get in touch, call me. If he turns up at your work or home, call 999.”

“And he’ll end up in prison?”

“I hope so. In the end, it depends on a lot of things. Best case, he’ll get up to five years. Sadly, I’ve learned that we rarely get best-case scenarios. But as I said, I’ll keep you informed. And please take advantage of the services mentioned on those leaflets.”

She’d given me a whole stack of flyers about charities and services for victims of abuse. I was planning to throw them in the bin. Not a victim. I was fine. My arm would heal, my bruises would fade, and it would all be just a bad dream. I was rid of Jason and I wouldn’t let him haunt me.

I left the police station with a smile. Maybe not the most natural reaction, but I was strangely happy and relieved. Now that this was dealt with, I could focus on more important things again. Like my job. I checked my smartwatch. I was running late to my first meeting with the dating agency. I’d planned to walk to their office, but it was time to splash out on a cab.

Pam’s office was cosier than my living room had ever been. Fluffy cushions, a thick carpet, colourful wallpaper and beautiful curtains all worked together in creating a warm, welcoming space. A large kilt-wearing cupid hung on one of the walls, the agency's mascot.

She’d made a large pot of coffee, but I was more interested in the jaffa cakes she’d put in a bright pink bowl in the centre of the table. The office was big enough to accommodate both a desk at one end and a round table with two funky chairs on the other.

“Is this where you talk to your clients?” I asked while she was pouring me a cup.

“Yes, whenever possible. Some people prefer to chat on the phone, but I always like having a conversation in person. It helps a lot to get an accurate impression of them. Sometimes, people turn out to be very different from how they looked on paper.”

“Makes sense. Will you be able to continue doing that, though? If this campaign is as successful as I’m planning it to be, you’ll get a lot of clients very quickly.”

Pam nodded. “I’ve hired two new girls to help me. And when I say girls, I mean that one of them is older than me.” I estimated her to be in her late forties, with a few streaks of grey in her curly auburn hair. “I just signed a contract to rent out the flat above me and we’re going to convert it to additional office space for them. In two weeks, all three of us will be able to welcome clients. Steff is moving from part-time to full-time, giving her the chance to deal with all the extra admin.”

Steff was Pam’s assistant. I’d not talked to her besides a friendly hello on the way in, but she seemed lovely. One of those cheerful people who made you smile as soon as you saw them. She was about my age, although she didn’t have my frown lines and heavy bags beneath the eyes.

“I need you to make a change to the campaign,” Pam said. “I only want to target females.”

“Wait, no men? Why? Are you wanting to turn this into a lesbian agency?”

Pam grinned. “No, although of course we welcome all clients, no matter the preferences. I’ve been contacted by a different agency that only has guys on their books. They gave me a glimpse at their database and, oh my sweet little Cupid, our ladies are in for a treat. For some reason, they’re only interested in Scottish females, so Hot Tatties is perfectly placed to work with them.”

“That’s amazing,” I said while already mentally adjusting my plans for the advertising campaign. Targeting just one gender was going to be easier, but it might also mean a lower budget. “Why do they only want Scottish women? Are they some kind of nationalist group?”

For some reason, Pam cackled with amusement. “Not quite. They’re…foreign, but with Scottish roots, and want to go back to their origins. Rekindle their culture or something like that. They were very clear in only wanting Scottish lasses, born and bred here. But they’re in for a surprise. I won’t discriminate against women with other backgrounds, so as long as they live in Scotland, they’re welcome to sign up. Those guys will just have to learn to deal with it.”

“The Scottish angle might be fun for the campaign,” I mused. “Men in kilts will be great for social media. So drool-worthy.”

“They’re drool-worthy for sure. These guys wear kilts all day, every day, not just for special occasions like the men do here. And while I’ve not asked if they wear anything underneath…” She gave me a very suggestive wink. “I’m sure my ladies will be very pleased. I kind of wish I was single.”

“Careful what you wish for,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

“You’re single?”

“Aye. Newly. And happily.”

Pam gave me an understanding smile. “Well, if you want that to change, I can add you to the database. Free of charge. Actually, that might be a great way to give you a better idea of how we work. Yes, let’s do it. If you know the process our ladies go through, you’ll be able to convey the message better in your campaign.”

“No, that’s really not necessary,” I said, but Pam was already grabbing her laptop, almost pushing her coffee cup off the table in the process.

“It’s not serious if you don’t want it to be,” she reassured me. “You won’t have to go on any dates, but I’ll let you go through all the steps leading up to that. Agreed?”

She looked so enthusiastic that I couldn’t say no. I’d always struggled with that, saying no. I knew some people took advantage of that, but in Pam’s case, it wasn’t malicious. She just enjoyed her job and wanted to share that joy with me. Oh well. As she said, I didn’t have to meet any guys. But would it be so bad if I did? I shifted a little and the pain from my thigh gave me a very clear answer. No more men. Not for a while, anyway. Being single was a lot healthier.

“I’ve got a meeting with the head of the other agency tomorrow,” Pam continued. “I’d like you to join us. I mentioned the campaign you’re planning for us and they were very interested. Maybe it’ll give you some more ideas now that the parameters have changed.”

I didn’t really need more ideas, my head was already swimming with them. Men in kilts. I could have them do all sorts of things. Exercise, yoga, weightlifting. Basketball or something where they had to jump, then do some shots from below, hinting at what might wait beneath the kilt…

I licked my lips. Tourists weren’t the only ones who found kilts appealing. I wasn’t talking about old guys at weddings. No, I was thinking of the kind of men you’d watch at the Highland Games, broad and burly and with thighs resembling the cabers they were throwing. Heat travelled down to parts that hadn’t felt anything like that in way too long. Maybe going on a date with a hot Highlander wasn’t a bad idea after all.

"How tall are you?" Pam asked, her eyes fixed on her laptop screen. "Five six?"

"Five foot five. Is height important to them?"

"Not that I'm aware. I just like to have all the details in case there are questions or special preferences. Usually, I'd take some pictures, but since this is just a test run, we can leave that unless you really want to."

"Nah, I'm fine." I much preferred being behind the camera.

"Alright, then you just have to fill in your hobbies, interests, what you're looking for in a man. You do that while I discuss something with Steff."

She handed me her laptop, leaving me to stare at the questions. I felt like this was an exam, worse than any I'd done at university. What were my interests? I'd had many before I'd met Jason. He'd become my one and only hobby.

The first few questions were what I had expected. What I did in my free time, my job, that sort of stuff. Typing was slow with just one hand, so I kept my answers as short as possible.

Would you be willing to relocate?

That was a hard one. Was I? A new start might do me good, away from everything that could remind me of Jason. I could do my work from home but-

Why was I even thinking about it? This wasn’t real. I shouldn’t put all this thought and energy into it. I randomly clicked the ‘yes’ box and continued on to the section about what I was looking for. I grinned. Let’s have some fun.

Tall. Muscular. Kind. Sexy. Protective. Intelligent. Able to hold a conversation. Kilt wearer. Six pack. Large d**k.

I deleted that last bit. It wasn’t very professional and even though Pam was super nice, this was still a business relationship.

Thinking of my brother, I added ‘good cook’ instead.

Happy to share the house chores. Able to do DIY and use a power drill.

It was an inside joke. I’d once drilled a hole into my palm while using my dad’s drill. I rubbed the scar. Ever since, I’d left DIY things to others. I wasn’t to be trusted with sharp, dangerous, pointy devices that could bore holes into people.

“Are you done?” Pam asked. Lost in thought and memories, I hadn’t even realised she'd returned.

“I think so. Not that it matters.”

“No, but now you know what our clients have to do to be entered into our database. Once they’ve done that, it’s time for the individual chat with me. Let’s skip that, I’m sure you have other things to do. Do you need time to adjust your campaign so that it’s only targeted to women, or shall we discuss it now?”

“Most strategies will stay the same, but I want to change our photoshoot to include men in kilts. The more Scottish, the better, right?”

“Definitely. And I want to come to that shoot. For purely professional reasons, of course.” Pam grinned.

“Do you think it would be possible to get some of the males from the other agency involved? It would make it more realistic and show your prospective clients exactly what they might get.”

“Let’s ask in the meeting tomorrow. I’ve not actually met any of them in person yet; so far, it’s all been online. They’re flying in tonight and will stay for a few days until we’ve got everything agreed on paper.”

“Where are they arriving from?” The only places with a history of Scottish emigration that I could think of were Nova Scotia in Canada and New Zealand. Probably the United States and Australia, too. A friend of mine had once sent me a postcard from New Zealand with a picture of their version of Ben Nevis. Funnily enough, our Scottish Ben Nevis was our highest mountain, but smaller than the Kiwi peak. That was the only reason I knew about a Scottish diaspora on the other side of the world.

Would moving to New Zealand be so bad? It looked amazing in pictures. It was really far away from my family, though.

You’re not actually getting a sexy Highlander, I reminded myself. I had to stop pretending that I was really going to be in Pam’s database.

“I’m not sure. They’re coming by private plane, though. So posh. The way they mentioned that in passing made me think that they have a lot of money.” She smiled happily. “Our cooperation will be a great boost for Hot Tatties. I might be able to give you a bonus at the end, if everything turns out well. Which I’m sure it will. What could go wrong with a campaign full of men in kilts?”