Page 5 of One Night in Glasgow
We hit the streets, soaking in the city, the blend of old and new architecture, the sound of bagpipes wafting from a nearby park, and the melodic cadence of Scottish accents surrounding us.
Danny, true to form, was more interested in the local scenery of the two-legged variety. “Check out the redhead at two o’clock,” he whispered, not-so-subtly nodding towards a woman in a coffee shop window. “Ya think she’s into American accents?”
I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure she’s into her boyfriend,” I said, nodding at the guy sitting across from her, holding her hand.
Danny’s face fell for about half a second before he bounced back. “No worries, plenty of fish in the sea. Or should I say, plenty of lassies in the loch?”
I groaned. “Please never say that again.”
Danny threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. If I can’t talk about the lassies, let’s talk about food. I'm starving. I read about this place in a blog—supposedly has the best fish and chips in all of Glasgow. Like, life-changing, award-winning fish and chips. You in?”
Food did sound good. “Yeah, sure.” I pulled out my phone to find the place. “Shit, it’s already seven o’clock. We’d better get a move on.”
The fish and chips lived up to the hype—a massive, golden-battered fillet of haddock and thick-cut chips, all served up in a paper cone with a side of mushy peas. We ate on a bench in a nearby square, the greasy, satisfying meal a perfect fuel for the evening ahead.
After dinner, as we wandered with no particular destination in mind, I felt an undeniable pull toward the older parts of the city. The weathered stone buildings and narrow alleys resonated with me. Each structure seemed to carry the weight of history, generations of stories intricately woven into every brick.
Danny, who had been busy rating the local talent, finally seemed to notice my quiet mood. “Alright, I know that look. That’s your ‘deep, motivational thoughts about the universe’ face. What gives? This city getting to you?”
I paused, looking up at the soot-stained sandstone of a historic church. “It’s not the universe. It’s just… this was my dad’s city. It feels strange walking the same streets.”
Danny’s smirk softened into a more understanding grin. “Ah, the official ‘Patrick McCrae Heritage Tour’ has begun. I get it.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “So what’s the story with this magnificent old church? First confession? First time he snuck a flask in?”
I laughed, the mood finally breaking. “Hardly. It just feels… familiar.”
As if on cue, we turned a corner, and the lively sounds of a fiddle and laughter spilled out from a pub. Danny’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of heritage,” he said, pointing at the pub's entrance. “Any proper tour of your dad's Glasgow has to include a stop at a historic pub. It's a cultural imperative. To Patrick McCrae!” Danny stopped right in front of the door, his hand practically on the door handle. “We had a deal remember? We saw a statue, we saw a dreary old church... that's two sights. According to the binding terms of our international treaty, that means we have earned two pints.” He pointed at the pub with a triumphant grin. “Time to collect.”
I sighed, knowing he had me. The man could find a loophole in a signed confession. “A deal’s a deal, I guess,” I said, glancing at my watch.Already past eight.“But then that’s it, Danny. After two beers, we go back to the hotel. I’ve got to prepare for my speech in the morning.”
Danny’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “Deal! Now let’s go see if these Scottish lassies are as fiery as they say.”
I rolled my eyes as we entered the place and were immediately swallowed by the pub’s living, breathing chaos. It was a heaving, laughing mass of humanity packed shoulder-to-shoulder under low, smoky beams. A local band in the corner was driving the energy, their fiddle player a blur of motion as the crowd swayed and stomped in time. Above the din, laughter erupted in sharp bursts, and the air, thick enough to taste, was a cocktail of malty beer and sharp whisky.
Danny’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. “Now this is what I’m talking about!” he shouted over the noise, already scanning the crowd for potential conquests.
I grinned. Danny’s enthusiasm was infectious, even if his priorities were... well, very Danny.
We squeezed our way to the bar, Danny elbowing his way through with practiced ease. As we waited for our drinks, he leaned in close.
“You realize that no one here knows who you are,” he said, waggling his brows with a playful glint in his eyes. “Perfect chance to let loose. Have some fun without worrying about the paparazzi or your reputation.”
I snorted. “Yeah, because that worked out so well last time.”
Danny winced. “Okay, fair point. But come on, that whole mess with Scarlett was different. She was a freakin’ movie star, man. Of course, the press was gonna be all over that. Here? You’re simply another twenty-nine-year old american tourist. No pressure, no expectations. Just... fun.”
I sighed, taking a long pull from my beer. “Geez, Danny. I’m not really looking for a hookup.”
“Who said anything about a hookup?” Danny said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying, maybe talk to someone. Flirt a little. Remember what that feels like without the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
I was about to argue when something caught my eye. Or rather, someone. A flash of vibrant red hair at the end of the bar. The woman it belonged to stood out like a sore thumb, her designer clothes a stark contrast to the casual vibe of the pub. She looked… impatient. Anxious, even, as she checked the time on her phone again.
Danny followed my gaze and let out a low whistle. “Well, hello. She looks a little worried. Better go rescue her, Sean.”
I hesitated. “I don’t know, man...” She looked at her phone again, and I saw her expression fall, a flash of clear annoyanceand disappointment crossing her face. She defiantly knocked down half of her drink and started gathering her purse as if to leave.
“And… looks like she’s been stood up,” Danny murmured, nudging me hard. “She’s about to bolt. It’s now or never, Romeo. Go work your magic before she disappears.”
The urgency hit me. He was right. I couldn’t just stand here staring. I took a quick breath to steady my nerves and made my way toward the redhead just as she was sliding off her barstool.
