Page 3 of Scottish Seducer
In another life, this trip would be the adventure where I met a great guy and laughed at my ridiculous year, but my dreams were usually just that. Silly dreams I’d written in my diary that never came true.
Once I finished packing, I glanced around my small abode and deflated a bit. I once imagined traveling across the globe and finding adventure while I dancedLa Boulangère, a dance Jane mentioned inPride and Prejudice. However, most of the people at the events were already coupled, and men my age just weren’t into the novels like I was.
So I called one of my friends who might understand, since the four of us, minus Ann, roomed together every year for the ten days as the American regulars of the Austen world in Bath. My friend answered on the first ring.
“Amelia,” I said. “Can we go get a beer before my train ride?”
Her very upper-class, New England, nasal voice that somehow blended with the London accent more easily than the rest of us relaxed me with the first syllable. “You’re going on a train ride? To where?”
I might have been born in Pittsburgh, but my soul belonged here. I double-checked to make sure I had my ticket and all the contents of my manila envelope in my bag as I said, “Scotland. I’m to drive the new boss’s car to London.”
Right, and she had zero idea what happened to me today.
I glanced out the window and saw the light rain fall in the evening sky as she said, “Seriously? That’s horrible.”
No one was on the street tonight pushing baby carriages or carrying groceries. It was unusually quiet because of the rain as I said, “Not all of us are journalists. And I need that beer, desperately.”
“Why? What happened?”
I tugged my ear and rushed back into my room to put on a small necklace as I said, “Richard and Ann were in my flat.”
“You’re joking.”
I adjusted my mother’s favorite small gold daisy pendant that she gave me shortly before she died and said, “They were both naked.”
“I’ll be right there and meet you at the bar.”
Perfect. I grabbed my toothbrush and now my backpack was stuffed. The tension in my shoulders and gut dissipated as I headed out.
While I hadn’t expected to see either one of those cheaters ever again, I was glad to have my key back. Now when I interviewed people to replace Ann, I’d have the original key to offer, and wouldn’t have to worry about her showing up and causing more trouble.
Hopefully, the next round of potentials would work out better.
I was almost in good spirits by the time I swung into the pub, where we reenacted Regency era dining protocols just as often as we simply sat and talked. I headed to our table but threw my arms open when I saw my besties all together. I squeezed each of them as I said, “Charlotte, Amelia, Sophia. I wasn’t expecting everyone.”
Sophia, my friend closest to my sister’s stand-up-for-herself personality, said, “We’re your squad, Stephanie.”
I plopped into my chair while Charlotte ordered me a beer. I put my bag down and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I took the beer as Amelia, the slightly neurotic planner of our group, asked, “What kind of car does your boss drive?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t bothered to notice whether there was a symbol on a key in my bag. Charlotte bumped me playfully and asked, “So when you go to Scotland, will you see Charlie Grannd in person?”
I sipped my beer. Friends made everything better. And the Guinness was good here. “Probably not,” I said. “He’s either surrounded by barely-legal females or spending an obscene amount of money to do something outrageous that no one in their right mind would do.”
Sophia clinked glasses with me. “Still, he’d be an amazing revenge fuck.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I don’t need that.”
Amelia spoke for all of them. “Yeah, you do. Since you flew home from your sister’s wedding you’ve been…sad. Time to stop being pathetic and get out there.”
I gulped a little of my beer. Friends were good, but I missed how my sisters always watched out for me, though they were all married and had their own families now. As I took another sip, I gazed into the brew and said, “I suppose. But I don’t want just any man between my thighs. I want…Mr. Fucking Darcy.”
Charlotte asked, “What is your fantasy guy in real life like, exactly?”
Good question. I swallowed and imagined all the movie actors who played my favorite heroes. Then they all sort of melded and dissipated as I spoke, “He’s intelligent. Blows-my-mind intelligent.”
Sophia sat back and snapped her fingers. “So you want a nerd?”
