5. Maisie
maisie
I groan as I turn over on my side, my stomach churning and my head pounding.
“There’s some coffee, and I brought up the breakfast Effie made,” Birdie says softly.
“Thanks,” I croak, grabbing my glasses and going straight for the coffee.
When I glance over at her, she has a mischievous smirk on her face.
“What?”
She shrugs, sipping her own cup of tea. “Nothing…I’ve never known you to drink like that. I’ve also never seen you so shy around an Alpha before, either.”
“I wasn’t shy.”
“Your cheeks were so red.”
“That was the alcohol,” I say back and she hums.
“What made you want to drink like that anyway?” she questions.
I swallow a big gulp of coffee. I could tell her I lost my job, but admitting it to Birdie feels like an absolute failure.
How many times have I been on her case about switching jobs too much?
Enough times that I’m feeling guilty over it now.
I’ll come clean to her eventually. I just need some time to process.
“Was just thinking about Mom,” I say, which is partially true at least.
Her face falls and she nods. “We need to pick a day to scatter her ashes.”
“Not yet.”
“I agree. We have plenty of time. Well, you nurse this hangover and get some work done. We’ll get dinner later?”
“I’d love that. Where are you headed off to?”
“Not sure. We’ll see where the day takes me,” she says happily, and I give her a smile.
What I wouldn’t give to be more like her right now. Instead, I toss the covers over my head and fall right back to sleep.
I eventually crawl out from under the sheets in the early afternoon, with a mission in mind. I need to pay my tab at Greer’s, get my credit card back, and apologize profusely for my behavior.
When I head toward the dining room, Effie is standing there, putting away clean china into the cabinet.
“Maisie, dear. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. Don’t think the food at Greer’s sat well. I’m feeling much better now though,” I say.
Her cheeks are rosy as a man steps around the corner. He looks vaguely familiar.
“You had an issue with the food at Greer’s?” he asks.
“Oh. Um, yes. Maybe a little too heavy,” I say, not wanting to say that I was too drunk and threw up in front of the owner of the establishment.
Effie clears her throat. “Maisie, have you met my grandson, Callum? He’s the chef at Greer’s,” she says with a grimace.
I’m pretty sure Scotland is trying to swallow me whole with the amount of embarrassment I’ve been through on this trip.
The large Alpha leans against the door frame, taking up the whole thing. His face is neutral, not out right mad or amused. Just completely unimpressed with me.
“It probably had more to do with my whisky intake, not the food itself.” I try to save the conversation.
“Could be,” he says, coming over to Effie and kissing her cheek. “Shortbread is in the kitchen, Nan.”
“Oh, you’re leaving so soon?” she says, glancing over at me and then back at her grandson.
“I’ll be back later to work on the sink,” he tells her without another word.
As soon as I hear the click of the back door, I turn to Effie. “I just said his food made me sick,” I say, sliding my hands down my face and taking a seat at the dining room table. “Nothing on this trip is going right. Maybe I should just fly back.”
“No. You can’t leave, you only just got here. You haven’t even gotten to experience everything we have to offer.”
I wonder why she cares so much, the room is paid for no matter what.
“I don’t know, Effie,” I groan, and she places a gentle hand on my back.
“At least give it till the weekend.”
I sigh and give her a nod. Birdie would be devastated if I left. These past two days have been tough, and I’m one more inconvenience away from not being able to function.
“Alright, I’ll at least give it till the weekend,” I tell her and she smiles at me sweetly.
I get up from the table and go to phase two of my apology tour. Next stop, and the main source of my humiliation, is with an absolutely gorgeous ginger-haired man who carried me home.
My mom always told me to not show up empty-handed, so I grab a coffee and scone from Craic Cafe, before heading to Greer’s.
Part of me hopes he isn’t working, while the other just wants to get this over with. Most of all, I hope I don’t run into Effie’s grandson again.
I steel myself, open the door, and head to the bar.
There’s a pretty Beta woman with long red hair behind the bar. She greets me with a smile.
“Ah, the damsel,” she says, and I’m really wondering when the hole in the floor is going to open me up and suck me into its depths.
“Is Greer here?” I ask.
“Greer!” she shouts loudly.
“The fuck you shouting for, Sorcha?” He walks through the kitchen door, behind the bar. “Maisie,” he says, his voice softer.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Aye. I’ll be right back, Sorcha,” he says to the woman, who smirks.
Greer follows me to an empty table by the window, and we both sit. I slide over the coffee and scone.
“What’s this?”
“The coffee is an apology, and the scone is a thank you. I came to apologize for my behavior last night and to thank you for making sure I got back to my room safely,” I say, glancing up at him.
God, he’s handsome.
His ancestors probably fought in the Nine Years War with the size of him. Alpha genetics passed down from generations to make this fine specimen before me.
I shake my head. What the fuck, Maisie?
Greer grabs the coffee and takes a sip.
“Everyone’s had a drunken night they wish they could take back. Nothing to apologize for, I was just being decent.”
I take a deep breath and relax in the seat a tad more. “Was I exceptionally obnoxious? I remember coming here, the beginning of the night, and chatting with Alan, oh and of course, the walk back.” I grimace.
“Actually, you were rather charming, maybe not when you threw up on the side of the road, but other than that,” he says with a smile.
He’s fucking with me, and I find the teasing cute.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms.
“Speaking of burgers, I think I put my foot in my mouth with your chef.”
Greer puts the coffee down and his brows furrow. He uses his hand to rub his beard. “You ran into Callum?”
“I was apologizing to Effie for coming in late, and might have blamed how I was feeling on the burger instead of saying I was drunk. Callum overheard.”
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“Suppose he wouldn’t also like a coffee and scone apology?” I ask and Greer shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about Callum. What about you? What are you up to today?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and shrug. “I’m not sure. My apology tour and shipping my laptop off were my only plans for the day.”
“Lain,” Greer calls out, and I turn around.
Wouldn’t you know? There stands the man in the kilt that I can’t seem to escape. He looks at Greer first, a smile already on his face, before he looks at me, his grin widening.
“Maisie, a lovely surprise,” Lain says.
“Maisie here needs something to do with her day.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because my tour is only two older couples. I’ve got a seat with your name on it.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t want to impose,” I say, not sure if spending the day with Lain is the best idea.
“I insist, and wouldn’t you know? That discount I mentioned actually means free?”
Greer smacks the table. “Then it’s settled.”
Did I just get steamrolled by these damn Alphas?
“I came in to grab a case of water,” Lain says, and Greer nods, heading behind the bar. “You’re in for a treat. We’re headed to Loch Rannoch today.”
Greer easily carries the water. It looks small next to him as he hands it to Lain. “Go have fun,” he says, and he leans forward so only I can hear. “Go find your magic, Maisie.”
I pull back and stare into his forest green eyes for a moment before blinking at him curiously.
A hand grabs my elbow. “You don’t get car sick, do you?”
“No.”
“And you already ate?” Lain asks.
“A little bit. I wasn’t very hungry.”
“I have some snacks, dinnae fash.”
I give Greer one last glance as I follow Lain to his van outside. He opens the door and I’m greeted by two older couples, likely in their sixties. They give me warm smiles.
“We have a last-minute addition. Maisie, you can sit right there,” he says, pointing to the first seat on the right. I take my seat and as soon as I do, Fergus is leaving his spot from behind the driver’s seat and nearly climbing into my lap.
His snout immediately in my neck.
“Fergus, you dog,” Lain says, going to pull him away.
“He’s fine,” I tell him, petting a spot behind his ear that has him lulling his tongue out, his thick gray and white tail flapping back and forth.
Lain gives me a goofy smile as he takes his seat in the front. He puts on a little headset and starts the van.
“First off, thank you for choosing Lain Highland Tours. I know you have other subpar options in the area, and you were wise enough to ken this was the best one. Since you’re a special bunch, we’ll take the scenic route.”
The couples laugh behind me and I can’t help but to smile.
“On our left is River Tummel. Does anyone ken what it’s most famous for?”
“The salmon,” the deep timbre of the older gentleman sitting behind me says.
“Ah, we’ve got ourselves a smart one on this trip. You’re right, River Tummel has the largest salmon in the area. If you fancy yourself a fresh salmon dish, Greer’s has the best in town,” Lain says, and I smirk.
These two have themselves a little racket where they recommend each other.
The scenery is gorgeous through the windows, as I enjoy a mix of history, facts, and jokes from Lain. It’s clear that he loves this place and he’s passionate about it.
It’s not hard to love something so beautiful, though.
The couples behind me ask him a few questions, which he answers with ease, and I just hang out in my seat. At a certain point, there’s a lull in the tour, when we’re no longer by the river.
Lain turns off his headset and slightly turns toward me, his eyes still firmly on the road.
Fergus hasn’t left my side. He also doesn’t let me stop petting him, either.
“How is your trip going?” he asks.
“Mmm. Depends, how much do you know?”
“I live with Greer,” he says, and I groan. “He didn’t say anything bad, just that maybe you were having a hard time.”
I lean my face against the top of Fergus’ head, maybe to hide my reaction.
“I was fired for my designation, and I guess I just haven’t had the easiest trip so far.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Lain asks.
“There’s a lawyer back home I have looking into it. But I don’t want to think about it,” I say.
“Then I shall do my best to distract you,” he says, putting on his headset. “Folks, this wasn’t on the itinerary, but what do we say about stopping over at the Queen’s View before we head over to Loch Rannoch?”
There’s a series of whoops behind me and I smile sheepishly as Lain makes a turn.
“The Queen's view is controversial as to whether it was Queen Victoria in 1866 or if it was Queen Isabella over five-hundred years prior who deemed the view worthy of a royal. If you ask me, my money is on Isabella, but you’ll see for yourself why the view is fit for a queen. Feel free to go to the visitor’s center, grab a coffee, and take a walk around.
Everyone just meet back at the van in a half hour. ”
He pulls up to the visitor’s center, puts a leash on Fergus, and leads everyone off the van. The two couples go their separate ways as Lain leads me down a trail.
“Was this not actually on the tour?” I ask.
“No. I never list it, but I include it in the estimated time and act like it’s not included. It always makes the tourists feel like they’re getting special treatment,” he says and I gasp.
“A swindler in a kilt, I would have never guessed.”
He grins, a dimple forming on his left cheek only. Shit, that’s cute. I clear my throat, looking away from him.
The tour guide is too charming for his own good.
“So, how did you get into the business anyway?”
“My da is a history professor. We would spend our summers traveling all over Scotland. I love this place and I love sharing it with other people even more,” he says as we walk down the path.
We finally reach the overlook and my breath is taken away.
The winding loch is a dark blue, calmer than I would expect, surrounded by lush, deep green mountains. The sky is a perfect pale blue in the background, and I’m almost positive this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.
I hold on to the railing, taking it all in, looking at these mountains that have been here millions of years and somehow it makes my problems feel so small. The valley is vast, stunning, and resilient.
I want to be the same.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say.
“Aye,” Lain says behind me.
The two couples from the tour join us, and Lain offers to take their pictures. The man is clearly trained on how to take the best photographs, as he takes at least three horizontally and three vertically of each couple.
“Would the two of you like one?” the gentleman asks.
“Oh, that’s—”
“Absolutely,” Lain says, handing him his phone and bringing me and Fergus over to the overlook.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder, like he’s known me his whole life and Fergus sits between us. I smile at the camera as the man takes a few pictures.
“Let me get one of just you,” Lain says and I wave him off.
I look back at the view, resting my forearms against the bannister and take a deep breath. I’m not sure how I know, or maybe I’m being overly sentimental, but something tells me my mom stared out at this same view, and I find solace in that.
Fergus nudges my leg and I turn to face Lain. “Thank you for bringing me along,” I tell him.
“My pleasure,” he says.
I glance back at the view one more time, and I know without a doubt I won’t be going home anytime soon. Effie was right. I need to give Scotland a chance.
I need to give myself a chance.