Page 58 of One Night in Glasgow (The Scottish Billionaires #15)

“Forget California,” Danny announced, dropping into an armchair with the satisfied air of a man who’s just pulled off a miracle. “For the next few months, you’re the toast of the UK. We’re not going home anytime soon.”

The room fell silent as Beth and I exchanged a look. I could see the question in her eyes: what did this mean for our plans?

“Danny,” I said slowly, “I appreciate all of this. I really do. But Beth and I were planning to fly to California tomorrow. I want her to meet my family.”

Danny waved a dismissive hand. “Bring them here! First-class tickets on me. Well, on your new advance, technically. They can experience your triumphant British tour firsthand.”

I looked over at Beth, who was just shaking her head, a look of pure, unadulterated amusement on her face. “So, let me get this straight,” she said, her voice full of laughter. “My lifetime of causing scandals finally paid off for someone?”

I let out a loud laugh, the tension and worry of the past week finally, completely, dissolving. “It seems so.”

Danny, finally calming down, flopped into an armchair.

“Alright, alright. I’m happy for you both.

Truly.” He gestured between us. “But this whole lovey-dovey, co-conspirator thing you’ve got going on…

it’s great, but I’m now officially the third wheel on this international love tour.

” He turned to Beth, a playful, pleading look on his face.

“So, you owe me. Big time. You must have one friend in this entire country who is smart, funny, and has reasonably low standards for an American agent who talks too much.”

Beth’s eyes lit up with a mischievous spark that I recognized immediately. It was the same look she’d had right before she’d verbally eviscerated her mother. “As a matter of fact,” she said, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face, “I think I know just the person.”

Danny clapped his hands together. “Perfect! Now, we need to talk strategy. I’ve got you booked on?—”

“Danny,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but could you give us a minute? This is a lot to process.”

He blinked, then nodded, glancing between Beth and me with sudden understanding.

“Right, of course. I’ll just... go get a coffee.

From the lobby. The very distant lobby.” He backed toward the door.

“Take your time. But not too much time—we have a phone call with Graham Norton’s producer in two hours. ”

As soon as the door closed behind him, I turned to Beth. “Are you sure about this? Staying here, dealing with all of this media circus?”

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Sean, I’ve spent my entire life being defined by other people’s stories about me.

The wild child, the party girl, the charity case.

For the first time, I get to be part of writing my own story.

” She gestured to the newspaper. “And apparently, it’s a pretty good one. ”

I cupped her face in my hands, overwhelmed by the love I felt for this incredible woman. “It’s the best one I’ve ever heard,” I said softly. “And it’s just getting started.”

Her smile turned mischievous as she glanced at the door. “Speaking of getting started... how long do you think Danny will actually stay away?”

“Not nearly long enough,” I laughed, but I pulled her closer anyway, my lips finding hers in a kiss that promised much more to come. “But I’m willing to risk it if you are. ”

“Always,” she whispered against my mouth. “I’m always willing to risk it with you.”

As I deepened the kiss, lifting her back onto the bed among her scattered clothes, I knew with absolute certainty that whatever came next; fame, fortune, or something entirely unexpected, we would face it together.

Our story, unlikely as it had seemed at the start, was proving to be better than anything I could have written in my books.

And it was only the beginning.

That evening, four of us were tucked into a plush, velvet booth at a chic Glasgow cocktail bar. The air was filled with the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the smooth sounds of a jazz trio in the corner.

Across from me sat Danny and Kinna, Beth’s best friend, and the sole reason Beth and I were together. If Kinna hadn’t “let it slip” that Beth was in New York, none of this would have happened.

So, Beth had made the call, and Kinna, after hearing the whole story, had agreed to dinner for a “debriefing,” her voice full of a curiosity she couldn’t quite hide.

The chemistry between them had been surprisingly immediate and electric.

Danny, with his fast-talking, charming bravado, had met his match in Kinna’s sharp, witty, no-bullshit pragmatism.

It was like watching two world-class tennis players in a rally, their banter a rapid-fire exchange of volleys and smashes.

“So let me get this straight,” Kinna said, taking a delicate sip of her gin martini and fixing Danny with a skeptical gaze. “ Your job is to follow him around the world and make sure he doesn’t say anything too stupid in public?”

“That’s an oversimplification,” Danny retorted, grinning. “I also manage the brand, negotiate the multi-million-pound deals, and occasionally talk him off of ledges, both literal and metaphorical. It’s a multifaceted role. I’m less of a hype man and more of a… life architect.”

“A life architect who still hasn’t figured out how to tie a proper Windsor knot, I see,” Kinna shot back, a teasing glint in her eye as she nodded at his slightly askew tie.

Danny looked down, a flush creeping up his neck. “Hey, it’s a fashion statement. It’s called… sprezzatura. Look it up.”

Beth and I just watched, laughing, as they went back and forth. It was perfect.

I reached for Beth’s hand under the table, lacing my fingers through hers.

She turned to me, her face glowing in the warm, dim light of the bar, her eyes full of a happiness so pure it made my heart ache in the best possible way.

The storms were over. The dragons had been slain.

The scandals had, improbably, turned into triumphs.

I thought about the man I was a month ago, the one who had boarded a plane to New York, driven by a ghost from his past and a desperate, illogical hope. I had been looking for a way to fix a mistake, to save someone. I never could have imagined that in the process, I would end up saving myself.

I brought her hand to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. She smiled, a secret, intimate smile just for me.

The band started playing a slow, soulful tune. Danny, ever the showman, stood up and offered his hand to Kinna. “May I have this dance, you terrifyingly brilliant woman?”

Kinna rolled her eyes, but she took his hand. “Fine. But if you step on my Louboutins, you’re buying me a new pair. ”

As they made their way to the small dance floor, I turned to Beth. “So,” I said, my voice a low murmur. “Looks like we’re stuck here in the UK for a while. A victory tour, apparently.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she purred, leaning in closer. “I can think of a few ways to make it feel less like we’re stuck.”

I grinned, pulling her closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, her lips finding mine.

And as we kissed, surrounded by the laughter and the music, with our two best friends bickering and flirting on the dance floor, I knew that this was it. This was the happy ending. No, not an ending. This was the brilliant, chaotic, and absolutely perfect beginning.