21. Beth
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BETH
I ’d finished up work that day as early as possible, switching off my notifications after I jumped out of the shower. In a rush, I’d arrived at the food bank in Leith just in time for my shift. Gary, the manager, gave me a big smile and asked me to come out to the van to help him unload donations we’d received from a large company. Usually, our donations were brought in by kind individuals, but now and then, a corporation or organization donated a load of stuff. Sometimes so much stuff, we shared the bounty with food banks all over the city.
My job was to pack the bags. Each person who came in was given as much as they needed for the week, whether it was food for themselves or for their entire families. What frustrated me about volunteering here was the stories I heard. Single mothers who had good jobs but couldn’t afford the current cost of living and were forced to swallow their pride and ask for help to feed their kids. Not just single parents either. People were struggling with the high interest rates, energy bills, and taxes, whether they were employed or not.
Food banks had never been more important.
When I told my parents I was volunteering here, I didn’t think I’d ever seen them prouder. And I had to admit that it wasn’t entirely altruistic. I got something out of helping people. It made me feel good to do it.
My shift passed quickly and I was finishing up for the evening when I heard a deep, familiar male voice in the front of the building. Gary’s voice was too low to make out, but he conversed with the man for a second or two before he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the stockroom.
“Beth … do you know Callan Keen?” Gary asked, eyebrows raised.
I looked at Audrey, who volunteered with me on Friday afternoons.
“Who is Callan Keen?” she inquired, bewildered.
Gary scoffed. “Only one of Scotland’s greatest midfielders. And he’s in my food bank.”
“Here?” I squeaked. Callan Keen was here?
“Aye, he’s asking for you.”
“What’s a midfielder?” Audrey asked.
How the hell did Callan know I volunteered here? Hurrying past my gaping companion, I marched out of the stockroom and halted.
Sure enough, Callan stood in the room that was thankfully empty of patrons. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared expressionlessly at me.
“What are you doing here?” I smoothed a self-conscious hand down the front of my T-shirt.
Callan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Was eating dinner across the road and saw you unloading boxes.”
“Oh.”
That still didn’t answer my question.
“We need to talk, princess.”
I ignored the endearment that wasn’t really an endearment but an insult masquerading as one. “About?”
“When do you finish up here?”
“Now, actually.”
“Meet me back at our building?”
“Tonight?”
“Aye, now.”
“Why?”
“We need to talk about that favor you owe.” He turned and marched toward the exit. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”
“Callan!” But he was already out the door.
What on earth was that all about?
“You owe Callan Keen a favor?”
I whirled around to find Gary staring in awe. It only clocked me then that he was wearing a Caledonia United shirt. Huffing, I threw my arms up. “Apparently so.”
CALLAN
Half an hour later, Beth was letting me into her flat. It was small compared to my place, but had a fairly generous open-plan living room and kitchen. A peek down a short narrow hall told me there was only a bedroom and a bathroom.
I’d expected to feel some kind of smug satisfaction again at the reminder I could afford a bigger place than Beth Carmichael, but I felt nothing other than curiosity. My attention lingered on a collection of photos she had on the wall. There were a ton of people in those photos, and I wondered if it was the big family she used to talk about so much. She had all these “aunts” and “uncles” and “cousins” who were good friends of her parents.
“So …” Beth walked past me, dumping her bag on a side table. “What do you want to talk about?”
She wore a T-shirt with illustrations of the Marvel comic characters arranged like an album cover with the words Marvel Eras Tour written under it. It was knotted at her waist, revealing a slither of smooth, olive skin. Her jeans were loose on her hips and around her legs but turned up at the ankles. On her feet, a pair of Converse. Even like this, in a T-shirt and jeans, Beth looked like a million dollars. She was a total princess no matter what she wore.
Her furniture did, too, and was surprisingly similar to what Ainsley had selected for my flat. She’d called it midcentury modern, whatever the fuck that meant.
I gestured to the couch that was almost identical to the one in my flat that Ainsley picked out.
Beth eyed me warily but nodded, waving a hand toward the piece of furniture. “Do you want a drink? Coffee, tea?”
“You got decaf coffee?”
“I do.”
“Thanks. Milk, no sugar.”
Beth nodded and strode over to the kitchen. My eyes might have lingered a few seconds on her arse before I dragged my gaze off her and crossed the room to sit. Her flat was on the same side as mine, so the floor-to-ceiling corner window overlooked New Town. It was still fairly light outside, despite it being close to eight o’clock.
Awkward silence filled the room, broken up only by the sound of Beth’s coffee maker. I hadn’t expected to feel nervous about asking her to arrange a meeting with her dad but suddenly, I felt all of seventeen again.
She brought the coffee over, her long ponytail swinging across her shoulder as she bent to place my cup on the table.
Beth settled opposite me, those piercing, pale blue eyes taking me back all those years ago when we’d sneak off to find somewhere to have a snog. I used to be in awe that she actually wanted me to kiss her.
Shoving the thoughts away, I clasped my hands in front of me and flattened my expression. “Here’s the thing—Baird and I own a company. We own and rent out a bunch of properties, but we’re looking to do something bigger. Blantyre Castle is up for sale, and we’ve made a good offer on it with the intention of renovating and turning it into a hotel and spa.”
“Blantyre Castle?” Beth frowned. “My dad’s company owns that castle.”
“It does. Your dad has rejected our offer. And he won’t meet with us to discuss a counteroffer.”
Beth sucked in a breath and she blanched.
Fuck.
I knew it.
There was more behind Braden’s reasoning. Had she told him about me?
She rubbed her palms down her thighs nervously and then shot to her feet. I watched her, my gut knotting as she nibbled at her lip and began to pace behind the sofa.
“What’s going on?”
Beth shot me a worried look.
“Did you tell him something about me?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Of course not.” Blowing out a long breath, she hurried back around the sofa and sat down. She held my gaze, hers full of concern that baffled me. “My dad doesn’t even know we were … friends.”
Friends.
Bitterness threatened, but I shoved it back down. “Okay …?”
Scrubbing a hand over her face, Beth groaned. “I’m really sorry, Callan, but I think my dad is holding who your dad is against you.”
I grimaced. I hadn’t spoken to my birth father in years. “What does that mean?”
“Do you remember the parents’ evening at Drimwhinnie? The one your dad came to.”
How could I forget? The next day Beth stopped talking to me. I shrugged, pretending like I vaguely remembered.
“My dad saw your dad there, and he got really weird and angry. We went home and he wouldn’t tell me why. So I eavesdropped on my parents.” For some reason, Beth would no longer meet my eyes. She stared at the floor. “I found out that your dad, Gavin, was my dad’s friend. Until he slept with my dad’s first wife.”
What. The. Fuck.
Of all the many things I imagined she might say, that was not one of them.
“My dad never forgave Gavin. And then from the sounds of it, I think your dad also tried it on with my mum. And he tried to get my dad in trouble with his business and the police. Dad was furious to see him at the school. He thinks your dad is dangerous, and he didn’t want me anywhere near Gavin. It kind of created some tension between my parents. I didn’t want to cause any problems between them …” Beth raised her eyes, and I saw guilt roiling in them. “Dad asked me if I knew you, and I lied and said no to keep the peace.”
It was like a fucking gut punch. I tried to cover how much this information affected me. My expression blanked and I let this coldness creep through my body. Protecting myself from her words.
“So, you started avoiding me,” I stated flatly.
Beth nodded, shamefaced. “It wasn’t just that. You remember Amanda? She liked you … and she was hurt too. She thought I’d chosen you over her. Between that and … You have to understand, I was only a kid, Callan. Everything was life or death back then. I wasn’t thinking rationally. All I was thinking was that I didn’t want to cause drama with my family, and that Amanda was so loyal, and I hated hurting her feelings … and I’d do all that if I dated you. But I didn’t handle it well. I should have explained instead of avoiding you.”
I knew she was a kid.
I knew I shouldn’t hold this against her.
She chose her family and Amanda over me. I shouldn’t hold that against her.
But it had seemed so easy for her … when I felt like my guts were being ripped out after she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me.
On the outside, I remained cool, unaffected. “I have nothing to do with Gavin. He’s out of my life. And I want that meeting with Braden.”
Beth winced. “I just … I don’t see it happening. My dad is usually the most understanding, perceptive guy ever … but when it comes to your dad, he has this huge wall up.”
I leaned forward. “I helped you out with Samuel. You’re going to help me out with this.”
Beth scowled. “I won’t make my dad do something he doesn’t want to do.”
I stood, towering over her. “I want that meeting, Beth. I don’t care if it fucks with your precious daddy-daughter relationship. You owe me for dropping me in high school without a fucking word and for helping you out with Samuel.”
“Captain—”
“You owe me, Beth.”
“Fine.” She tore her gaze from mine. “I’ll think about it.”
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I said, “I’ll give you my number so you can contact me when you’ve made the right decision.”
Beth huffed. “What part of ‘I’ll think about it’ do you not get?”
“I’ll need an answer either way, won’t I?” I shook my phone at her.
With a huff of exasperation, she pushed off the couch and then cut me a dark look when I refused to budge to let her past. She was forced to slide by, her breasts brushing my chest. I gritted my teeth. Should have gotten out of her way.
Willing my body not to respond, I waited as she rifled through her handbag and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen. “Right, give it to me.”
Word choice, princess, word choice , I groaned inwardly. Instead of replying, “Oh, I’ll give it to you, all right,” like I wanted to, I rattled off my phone number.
“Phone me so I have yours.”
“No.” Beth slipped her phone into her back pocket. “You’ll get my number if I decide to text you.”
I smirked, shaking my head slightly. Bloody woman always needed to have the upper hand. “You’ll text.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” She cocked her head in consideration. “Were you always this arrogant?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged nonchalantly and strode toward the door. “I guess neither of us really knows each other. Even back then, we didn’t know each other. I mean, who would have thought Beth Carmichael was such a parent-pleasing wee coward?” I didn’t look at her for a reaction, just walked calmly out the door, letting it close quietly behind me.
As soon as there was a wall between us, my expression fell.
All these years, I thought Beth stopped wanting me because I wasn’t good enough.
Turned out, it wasn’t much better. Gavin was scum. He’d proven that by neglecting me my entire childhood and then preened around the city when I became a professional football player. Telling everyone I was his son, like he’d had anything to do with my success.
Then he’d come looking for a handout.
Gavin Urquhart was my biological father, but he wasn’t my dad.
And it pissed me off beyond measure that not only did Beth break things off when we were kids because of him, but that Braden Carmichael was holding that bastard’s DNA against me.
I’d never been more determined to buy that fucking castle. No matter what it took.