The biting Scottish air nipped at Ashlyn Grace's nose, a stark contrast to the stuffy airplane cabin she'd just exited. Clad in too many layers, she clutched her suitcases, a dry cough tickling her throat.

“Miss Ashlyn Grace?” A man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in faded jeans and a checkered shirt, approached. His blue eyes crinkled with a warm smile. “I'm 'ere to take ya to the weddin'.”

Before she could fully respond, he effortlessly whisked her bags away, wheeling them towards a sleek black limousine parked across the street. Ashlyn blinked, her mother’s warnings about strangers and strange cars echoing in her mind. “You just don’t look like the limousine-type of driver to me,” she ventured, her gaze sweeping from the luxurious vehicle to his casual attire.

“Don’t let the hair fool ya,” he waved off her observation, a lighthearted chuckle escaping him. “Now get in. We’ve only got an hour to get ya there.” Resigning herself to the unusual start, Ashlyn settled into the plush leather seats, a wave of relief washing over her as she escaped the cold and rain.