they had left,” he said as he compressed their bags into the microscopic backseat.
“Oh, right,” Loren said smiling. She had seen the poster advertising the promotion with Mini Cooper and knew it was a done deal. Once outside the city they traveled north from Edinburgh into the Scottish Highlands. Loren settled into her seat and enjoyed watching Pitt and the car work as one as he shifted through the curves and around the hilly terrain. She laughed to herself. She did know her husband.
Occasionally they pulled off so they could admire the rugged landscape’s sweeping vistas. Slowly the deep blue lakes that dotted the low, rolling mountains grew darker and more foreboding the farther north they traveled.
The road ultimately descended through a patchwork of lush farm fields before entering the town of Inverness. At the confluence of the River Ness and Moray Firth, the bustling harborfront city was known as the capital of the Highlands. Pitt drove through the city, crossed the River Ness, then followed its westerly course until it was swallowed by the famous loch.
Loren gazed down the length of Loch Ness, which extended to the horizon. “It’s much bigger than I thought.”
“Offering plenty of places for Nessie to hide,” Pitt said.
“It’s beautiful, monster or no.”
They followed the north shoreline for several miles, passing the village of Drumnadrochit and the ruins of Urquhart Castle. The thirteenth-century fortress, on a promontory overlooking the lake, became famous in the 1930s when an object photographed in the nearby waters was alleged to be the Loch Ness Monster.
Pitt passed a busload of tourists and continued down the road, cruising through a handful of tiny villages. Near the lake’s midpoint, Pitt tapped on the brakes at a heavy iron gate flanked by stone columns and a massive header. Inscribed on the keystone were McKEE and the image of a hawk in flight.
“I believe this is the place,” Pitt said.
“Modest residence.” Loren gazed down the drive at an imposing stone manor.
A uniformed female guard checked their names on an iPad, then directed them through the gate to a side parking lot. Pitt pulled to a stop alongside a Mercedes-Maybach sedan that was dropping off several smartly dressed women.
Loren looked at Pitt and cringed. “We couldn’t have arrived in something more dignified?”
Pitt leaned over and kissed her. “It wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
He unloaded their bags, and accompanied Loren to the manor’s portico. The front façade included a mix of old and new stone, as though someone had taken the ruins of an old castle like Urquhart and rebuilt it into a modern mansion.
The layout was of a classic medieval castle, but on a much smaller scale. High battlement walls stretched to the water’s edge, with round turrets at each corner. An open courtyard was at the center, with rooms built along each of the surrounding corridors.
Loren and Pitt handed their bags to a porter and climbed the steps. They passed a second layer of security and stepped through a pair of towering carved wooden doors into a warmly lit open rotunda filled with high-powered women sampling champagne and hors d’oeuvres. A loud murmur of conversation echoed off the marble floor. They’d taken only a few steps before they were greeted by Audrey McKee.
She introduced herself to Loren and shook her hand, then turned to Pitt. “So nice to see you again. I was pleasantly surprised to see your name on the guest list.”
At first, Pitt didn’t recognize Audrey as the woman he’d met in Detroit. Instead of a work jumpsuit, she now wore a magenta business suit with a silk blouse. Her dark red hair flowed loose, and she had a trace of makeup on that highlighted her searching eyes.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Pitt said. “I also wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“This is a highlight event for both the company and my family. It’s a great honor to have you both with us.” She glanced about the rotunda. “We have some important dignitaries from the world of business and politics I’d love you to meet.”
Loren had already eyed a European prime minister, a fashion company magnate, and the CEO of a media conglomerate. “It would appear,” she said, “to be quite an international gathering.”
“Very much so. We invite leading women from around the globe and always have an impressive attendance.” She looked at Pitt with a mock frown. “I’m afraid this afternoon’s events are reserved for the ladies. I’d be happy to arrange a tee time for you, if you