Page 4 of Scottish Seducer
She’d have set me up in a day with someone horrible, probably with glasses, who spent 24/7 slouched in front of his laptop.
I fiddled with my necklace, wishing I still had my mom as I said, “No. He has to be brainy, but also resourceful and chasing his dream. He’s absolutely not Richard or the rich and entitled Charlie Grannd.”
Finally, the conversation turned away from my recent horrible choices. I finished my beer but then the clock tolled on the wall.
“Ooops!” My job awaited. I jumped up, slung on my backpack, and waved goodbye. Amelia got up to walk me out and said, “You’ve had a long day. Don’t sleep through your stop.”
While the nice buzz in my head silenced all the doubts that usually circled, I took out my phone and showed her my steady hand. “I’m fine, and alert enough to set my phone on alarm.”
“See you tomorrow.” She kissed my cheek.
I saluted her like this was the Army and said, “Absolutely. We’ll do respectable wine tomorrow night.”
The rain that pattered on my face and arms didn’t matter. I was on my way to Scotland. A few hundred years ago, this sort of trip was made by couples wanting to escape and elope, but no one was in love with me.
Probably no one ever would be. I’d have to settle for moving on, and hopefully save enough funds to adopt my own children. It wasn’t a bad plan, especially since it was all I had left, other than writing in my diary until I passed out for a few hours.
