Duke Charming | Craig

Two

At exactly noon, a sleek limousine parked in front of Nellie's to pick up the new caterers for the wedding of the year.

I stood waiting with Bonnie, Hamish, Sandra, and Maisie, our suitcases neatly aligned for the driver to load. Rheon kindly allowed me to bring some of my staff along to help with the catering before running off to his next errand. Of course, I chose Hamish and Sandra, the former known for his famous for his smoked salmon, and the latter a literal genius when it comes to soups and gravies.

Maisie's what we like to call a floater. She's good with anything and everything and could serve, cook, and bake – sometimes all three at once. And, of course, Bonnie, who's not only pretty and charismatic, but can also balance two trays stacked with champagne on her hands, something I considered a true gift.

Together we're the A-Team of Nellie's. And I can rest assured that when we leave on a job, the bistro is in good hands with my backup staff – Sorcha manning the tables, and Alfie behind the stove. Luckily, it's never that busy that we fall behind on orders.

"Oh, this is nice," Hamish commented after we piled into the limo. "Very nice, indeed. Do you think they pick all their guests up in limousines, or just the VIPs?"

Maisie snorted at that. "More like the last-minute-emergency-catering-service if you ask me." Right, in no universe would the five of us be seen as VIPs. "They have good taste, though, I'll give them that," she adds when spotting the champagne on ice, making a grab for it.

"Hey!" I quickly swatted her hand away before she could grab the bottle. "No getting drunk on the job, alright? I have a reputation to upkeep."

Maisie sighed dramatically but slouched back in her seat.

The limo rolled forward and we're officially on our way to Craven Pride.

Despite the knot of anxiety in my stomach, I couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to call a castle your home. Considering the average size of a building as such, it'd take me a year to navigate my way through the halls without getting lost. I wondered how many rooms it had. How big was the kitchen? And did it have any secret passageways like the castles in the movies?

Once out of Direfair, we drove along the Loch Lomond on our left. The sight of it still captivated me, and I was once again grateful that I found this place to settle down in.

Taking out my notebook to start planning a few meals ahead, I listened to my team chit-chatting excitedly.

"You do realize everyone at the wedding are linked to royalty, right?" Bonnie pointed out, combing her fingers through her cascading red locks. "Just imagine locking eyes with a handsome duke across the hall and then..." She wiggled her body and clapped her hands together for emphasis. "...sparks! I can already see it. Dutchess Bonnie Abernathy of the Glen, or whatever."

Sandra scoffed, but seemed amused, nonetheless. "My husband would kill me and then the duke. Take my advice, never marry an alpha male. Too assertive. Find yourself a man who enjoys the sound of your voice." And then she muttered underneath her breath, "...or one who can handle a joke."

I smiled by myself. Sandra complains about her husband every day, so it's normal behaviour for her. And still, at the end of a busy day or catering gig, all she talks about is going home and jump her husband's bones – or just cuddling the hell out of him. That's what twenty years of marriage does to you.

If only she knew how right she was. Alpha males tend to be over-assertive, borderline arrogant and domineering sometimes.

Depending on the alpha, though. Not all of them rule their packs with an iron fist.