Writing Mr Right: A Kilted Romantic Comedy by Miranda Newfield

Author:Miranda Newfield [Newfield, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-02T23:00:00+00:00

Despite an uncharacteristically warm summer night and her Scottish hotel room’s lack of air conditioning, the discomfort wasn’t what kept Georgia awake. She was thinking of Garrett. Had he gotten the note? Had he gone to the Hyatt looking for her? Had he called Cassie’s phone over and over to find her? Probably not. He hadn’t called in all this time, why would he chase her now? Still, she couldn’t help but pine for the man she wished he had been. She glanced at the clock – 12:02. Sleep wasn’t coming. She needed a drink.

Georgia threw on a pair of jeans and headed out for a walk.

Summer nights in Scotland rarely grew full dark, and Georgia meandered down the sidewalks under a purple sky. She made her way down past the Scott memorial, past the Gallery, and up the meandering hill toward the Royal Mile. Even after her steely decision earlier that evening, she felt drawn to the little book shop. She made her way up the winding hill, her breath getting hoarse with the effort. Finally, she climbed a tall flight of stairs and found herself in the courtyard of the Writer’s Museum, tucked away in a close off the Royal Mile. She’d been here before in earlier visits to Scotland, roaming the city alone before her book signing. Now it loomed, ancient and foreboding in the dark. She stopped a moment, tickled to have accidentally stumbled on the Writer’s Museum again after all these months and yet still unable to go inside. She could hear the distant thrum of laughter and music, one of the nearby pubs still going strong. She set the sound as her destination when a strange chill ran up her spine.

“Don’t think they’re open at this hour.”

The sudden sound, the unlikelihood of someone being there at this hour, of being alone with a stranger looming in the dark should have startled her – even terrified her. Yet, Georgia didn’t startle. The chill was her warning; an inexplicable knowledge she couldn’t refute. To hear the voice, to have that chill proven true, was enough to rattle her whole being. She swallowed and turned to face Garrett MacCauley, sitting just a few yards away, sprawled out on a bench in the courtyard.

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