Page 4 of One Night in Glasgow
The door clicked shut with the finality of a coffin lid. I lay back, staring at the ceiling. The MacLeod name had always been my ticket to whatever I wanted. Now it was like a noose.
“Fuck,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice cracking. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
CHAPTER TWO
SEAN
I stepped off the plane,the brisk Scottish air feeling like a wake-up call. Before I’d even taken a second breath, Danny practically shoved me aside, his carry-on banging against the railing as he took the last two steps in a single leap. He landed on the tarmac and threw his arms wide, taking a deep, theatrical drag of the damp air as if it were the finest perfume.
“Glasgow!” he bellowed, spinning around and clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble. “I can already taste the single malt and questionable life choices. You ready to commune with the ancestral homeland, McCrae?”
I rolled my eyes, but a grin slipped out, anyway. “My dad’s from here, Danny, that’s not ancient. My ‘roots’ are probably enjoying a quiet pint somewhere.”
We made our way through the terminal, Danny offering a running commentary on what he called the “local talent.” I mostly tuned him out, my mind already racing with thoughtsof the upcoming children’s charity event I would be speaking at. This gig was the cornerstone of the trip, the one that felt like it mattered most.
As we entered the arrivals area, I spotted a driver holding a “McCrae” sign. “There’s our ride,” I said, cutting off Danny’s musings on whether a Scottish accent made a woman inherently more trustworthy.
The chauffeur, a man whose stony expression looked like it had been carved from the side of a Highland mountain, grunted a greeting and led us to a sleek black car. As we slid into the backseat, Danny leaned in close.
“This man is a fortress of stoicism,” he whispered. “I’m going to attempt to breach his defenses with pure, unadulterated charm. Watch and learn.” He then leaned forward and cleared his throat dramatically. “Excuse me, sir. I’ve just come up with a new name for a Scottish rock band. It’s called ‘The Kiltie Pleasures’. What do you think? Has potential, right?”
The driver’s eyes met Danny’s in the rearview mirror for a brief, inscrutable moment. He gave a single, noncommittal grunt.
Danny slumped back against the seat. “Okay,” he muttered to me. “Tough crowd. A professional.”
The drive into Glasgow was a blur of gray skies and stunning old buildings. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, trying to soak it all in. This was the city my father had always spoken of with such complicated affection.
“Earth to Sean,” Danny’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You’re doing that pensive, keynote-speaker-staring-out-a-window thing again. What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
I shrugged, not really sure how to explain the mix ofemotions churning in my gut. “Just thinking about the charity event,” I said finally.
Danny’s eyes widened. “The one at the end of the week? Dude, we’ve got another speaking gig before that. Don’t put the cart before the horse.”
I sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just... this one feels different somehow.”
The car slowed, finally reaching our hotel. It was a massive, ornate building that screamed old-world luxury. As we stepped out, Danny let out a low whistle.
“Damn, they really rolled out the red carpet for us, huh?” Danny grinned, his eyes already doing a subtle sweep of the busy entrance.
I grabbed our bags from the trunk, tossing Danny his suitcase. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s check in before you launch your international goodwill tour.”
The doorman snagged our bags and ushered us inside the hotel.
The lobby was a bustling hive of activity. As Danny flirted with the receptionist—because, of course, he did—my eyes were drawn to a massive poster hanging near the elevators. It advertised the charity event I would be speaking at: “Hope for the Homeless: Changing Lives, One Child at a Time.”
“Hey…” Danny’s voice snapped me back to reality. He was holding out key cards, a victorious expression on his face. “You ready to check out the suite?”
As we rode the elevator up, my mind kept drifting back to that poster. I hoped the things I did in my life somehow would help those kids and others too, though I wondered sometimes if speeches really had any long-term effect on people’s lives.
The suite was as swanky as expected, with a view of the city that would’ve made a postcard jealous. Danny made a beelinefor the minibar while I collapsed on the plush couch. There was a central living room area with a bedroom branching off each side, plus a compact kitchenette tucked into one corner.
“So,” Danny said, cracking open a tiny bottle of whisky, “what’s the game plan? We’ve got the entire day for ourselves. Wanna check out the pubs… I mean the local sights?”
I straightened up, suddenly restless. “Now that you mention it, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s go explore. But no pubs until after we see some sights.”
Danny’s eyes widened in disbelief for a fraction of a second before a huge grin took over. “I won’t even argue! One sight, then one pint? Sight, pint. We can make a rhythm out of it. It’ll be great!”
I shrugged, already reaching for my jacket. “When in Rome, right? Or... Glasgow, I guess.”
