Mr. Silver: A Mr. Billionaire Short Story

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “So, you really did build all of this on your own?”

  “Yeah, with the help of my grandmother. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have had anything to get me started.”

  “That’s incredible. You’ve not had any contact with them since?” I ask sadly.

  “No. It’s just been me. I’ve made a couple of great friends along the way. What about you?”

  “Well, you’ve met my mum. My dad died from cancer when I was a teenager.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why, was it your fault?” He glances over at me in shock. “Sorry, that phrase just really irritates me. It’s like you’re taking responsibility for his death. It’s no one’s fault.”

  “Okay, I’ll rephrase. I’m sorry you had to go through that at such a young age. It must have been hard.”

  “It was. I had a few tough years.”

  “I’m assuming this has something to do with those scars?”

  Looking out the window at the passing countryside now that we’ve left the city, my mind takes me back to that night. “Yeah. It was…”

  “You don’t have to, if it’s too much.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s better if I just get it out. It was the summer before I was meant to go to university. My boyfriend arranged to take me out one night, to make the most of our time together before we ended up at different ends of the country. We’d had a lovely night, but as we were leaving his friend rang to say they were headed to a party and invited us.

  “We agreed, and he came to pick us up. What we didn’t know was that he’d already started the party and the last thing I remember was him jumping a red light and seeing a lorry headed straight for us.”

  “Fuck.”

  “He was four times over the limit. I was the only one who survived,” I choke out. Even after all these years, it still rips me apart. “Although not without a broken back, some serious internal bleeding, and weeks in hospital followed by months of physio.”

  “Jesus, Fearne.” I shrug, because what is there really to say? “Your boyfriend…was he the last time you…” He trails off, obviously not wanting to assume.

  “Yes. He was my first and was going to be my last…until you.”

  Reaching over, he entwines my fingers with his. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Telling me. That can’t have been easy.”

  “It is what it is. What’s this place?” I ask when he starts to slow down and then pulls up to a large set of gates.

  “Where I should have brought you Friday night. My home.”

  “Whoa,” I breathe as the gates open to reveal the most incredible house I think I’ve ever laid eyes on. “It’s massive.”

  “So you’ve already told me.”

  Laughing, I unstrap myself, continuing to take in the colossal home in front of me.

  Scott comes around to my door and helps me from the car before collecting my bags from the boot.

  “Wait…is that mine?” I ask when he wraps his fingers around a very familiar suitcase.

  “It is.”

  “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  “Why, are you planning on getting me to take you home tonight?” My cheeks heat and my lips twitch up into a smile. “No, I didn’t think so,” he says, his hands sliding around to my back and his lips landing on mine.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.”

  “What? Spend the night with me?”

  “Well, yeah, that too. But no, I meant I told myself I’d never fall for someone again.”

  He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “You’re falling for someone?” His nervous swallow gives away that he’s not quite as confident about that question as his face might want to make me believe.

  “I think I am,” I whisper. “Is that okay?”

  “I think it’s more than okay. Because I am, too.”

  Scott

  One year later…

  Fearne might have told herself that she wouldn’t fall for anyone again, but I’d always sworn I wouldn’t give anyone the kind of power over me that comes with giving your heart to someone. All of those good intentions shattered for both of us that morning I stood on stage and gave my yearly assembly.

  Having her in my house that first night was the most relaxed and comfortable I think I’ve ever felt. Suddenly, it felt like a home.

  Not only has Fearne taught me to open my heart up for the first time since I was a child, but she’s also helped me learn to delegate so that I can have more time at home with her. I never stopped to realise how chaotic my life was. I hardly spent more than two nights in one place before I found a reason to move on. But now, there’s nowhere I want to be more than at home with Fearne, my fiancée.

  “Scott.”

  My name being shouted from upstairs has me up and running in seconds. “Yeah, baby. What’s wrong?” I’m panting by the time I find her, standing in the middle of our bedroom.

  “I think it’s time.” Dropping my gaze from her tired eyes, I find a small puddle at her feet.

  “Holy shit. Fuck. This is actually happening.” My hands tremble as I stand staring at her, not knowing what to do first.

  “Scott. Calm down. We’ve got this, yeah?” I nod at her, but nothing else I’ve done in my life has been as scary as this moment. “The hospital bag is next to the bed. I’ll meet you at the car. Scott?”

  “Yes. Yes. I’ve got it.” I go to take a step towards the bag I need to get when her delicate hand lands on my forearm, stopping me.

  Turning back, I stare at her with wide eyes.

  “Everything’s going to be perfect, and the next time we’re here it’s going to be with our baby girl in our arms.” Her words don’t have the effect on me that I think she was hoping for. Placing her palms on my cheeks, she looks up into my eyes. “I love you.”

  Those three words do it. I feel my panic start to dissipate and my heart slows a little. This moment is everything. I’ve got the woman of my dreams standing in front of me with love pouring from her eyes. Not only that, but she’s about to give me the best gift a man can ask for.

  “I love you, too. Now, let’s do this. Let’s go and meet our little girl.”

  When the idea for this series was brought up, I knew I had to be involved, even though it meant squeezing another book into my already tight schedule. But it had to be done.

  I’d like to say a huge thank you to my fellow Flirt Club authors. It’s such a privilege to be part of such an incredible group of supportive and creative writers. So many of my stories, including this one, would never have happened if it wasn’t for you guys and your crazy ideas!

  Once again, a massive thank you to Michelle for alpha reading this, incomplete sentences and all. And then my betas for dropping everything and reading it as fast as you could.

  Michelle, thank you once again for editing on such a short turnaround and helping to keep me sane!

  I really hope you enjoyed Fearne and Scott’s little story. It was such fun to write and a breath of fresh air from the angst I’ve been knee deep in with everything else I’m working on.

  Until next time,

  Tracy xo

  Mr. Black by Laney Powell

  http://smarturl.it/MrBlack

  Mr. Champagne by Alexx Andria

  http://smarturl.it/MrChampagne

  Mr. Cream by Rebecca Gallo

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  Mr. Garnet by Dori Lavelle

  http://smarturl.it/MrGarnet

  Mr. Gold by Margot Rose

  http://smarturl.it/MrGold

  Mr. Green by Angel Devlin

  http://smarturl.it/MrGreen19

  Mr. Indigo by Alexis Adaire

  http://smarturl.it/MrIndigo

  Mr. Pink by Dee Ellis

  http://smarturl.it/MrPink

  Mr. Platinum by Fiona Starr

  http://smarturl.it/MrPlatinum

  Mr. Sapphire by Vivian Ward

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MrSapphire

  Mr. Silver by Tracy Lorraine

  http://smarturl.it/MrSilver

  Mr. Slate by Tessa Blake

  http://smarturl.it/MrSlate

  Mr. Steel by Derek Masters

  http://smarturl.it/MrSteel

  Mr. Stone by Olivia Hawthorne

  http://smarturl.it/MrStone

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  Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy has just turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, baby girl and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her head stuck in her Kindle, Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.

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  Falling Series

  Falling for Ryan: Part One #1

  Falling for Ryan: Part Two #2

  Falling for Jax #3

  Falling for Daniel (An Falling Series Novella)

  Falling for Ruben #4

  Falling for Fin #5

  Falling for Lucas #6

  Falling for Caleb #7

  Falling for Declan #8

  Falling For Liam #9

  Chasing Series

  Chasing Logan

  Ruined Series

  Ruined Plans #1

  Ruined by Lies #2

  Ruined Promises #3

  Never Forget Series

  Never Forget Him #1

  Never Forget Us #2

  Everywhere & Nowhere #3

  The Cocktail Girls

  His Manhattan

  Her Kensington

  The Halloween Honeys

  His Sorority Sweetheart

  Second Helpings

  Cheeky Trifle

  Santa’s Coming

  Santa’s Naughty Elf

  Resolution Pact

  Resolution: Exposure

  Matchmaker

  Dear All Star Player

  Ireland Forever

  Forever Ruined (A Ruined series spin off)

  Sneak Peek

  Have you met Summer and Harrison in His Manhattan?

  Keep reading for a sneak peek and start falling for my sexy British billionaire.

  His Manhattan

  Chapter One

  Harrison

  “Tell me again why you’re here,” I say, looking over at my brother as he knocks back what must be his forth whiskey.

  He glances over at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Vegas, baby!”

  I groan, and focus my attention out the tiny window. Blue sky stretches out as far as I can see. It gives me a sense of calmness Zack is trying his best to ruin.

  This was meant to be a simple business trip. I’ve got clients to meet and auctions to attend, but now I find myself a babysitter to my completely irresponsible, younger brother.

  I could kill our dad for letting slip that I was heading to Las Vegas. I’m not going to party it up, blow a fortune on the tables, and find as many willing women as possible…which is exactly Zack’s sole purpose for joining me.

  Mum’s words ring in my ears as I hear him order another whiskey from the flight attendant.

  “It’ll be good for you to spend time together,” she says softly as she looks into my concerned eyes. “It might help level him out a little if he sees you in action.”

  She’s full of positivity. I’ve no idea how she’s kept it up all these years. Zack is one big fuck up.

  His blatant flirting with the attendant drags me from my thoughts.

  “So, Paula,” he says, as he leans forward to read her badge. “Tell me about the mile high club.”

  If she’s shocked by the question, she doesn’t show it. I guess she’s experienced much worse than my idiotic brother on these flights.

  “Shut up,” I snap. We’re only two hours in to our flight from London, and I’m already sick of the sight of him.

  “You need to lighten up, bro,” he says, turning to me once Paula’s escaped.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “No you’re fucking not. You’re just a younger, even more boring version of our father, and that’s really saying something.”

  I grind my teeth to stop myself responding.

  “You’re going to Vegas for business,” he says, air quoting the last word. “No single guy under the age of seventy goes to Vegas just for business. You need to get a fucking grip.”

  I remain silent as I try not to add fuel to his fire. According to Zack, finishing school, taking over the family business, and living somewhat of a quiet life is absurd.

  “Seriously, you might as well buy yourself a pair of plaid slippers and attach a pair of elbow patches to that suit and be done with it,” he says, eyeing my tweed jacket.

  “You’re a dick,” I mutter, turning away from him. To think I was excited to find out I was going to be a big brother when I was seven. He’s been a pain in the arse from the day he was fucking born.

  Thankfully, the copious amounts of whiskey eventually send him to sleep, leaving me in peace to get some work done. What I said earlier was true: I like my life, and I love my job. There was never any question about me joining the family business. I’ve been obsessed with antiques since I was a little boy. My grandad used to take me to auctions and teach me about the history behind the pieces. I’d soak it all up while other boys my ages kicked a ball about. It’s safe to say I was different, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my teen years researching, buying and selling to build up my own collection, while others were out partying and getting drunk. Zack was—still is—like that, which is just one of the many differences between us.

  Until he turned up at our parents’ a few days ago, we hadn’t seen him in weeks. I’ve no clue where he disappears off to or what he does, but he always seems to turn up eventually.

  * * *

  It’s late when we land at McCarran International, and the only thing I want to do is get to my room and crash. The first auction is tomorrow, and I’d prefer not to be jet lagged for it, if possible.

  The glamorous receptionist looks up when I step in front of her desk. Her eyes assess me before she finds Zack over my shoulder. I’m used to it; he’s got that bad boy look going on, which gets him all the girls.

  Fuck knows why; he’s a wanker.

  We’re polar opposites, him with blonde, shaggy long hair and blue eyes, and me with our parents’ dark features and tanned skin.

  “I’ve got a room booked under Abbot. I also need to add another,” I say reluctantly.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Abbot, we don’t have any rooms left. I can offer you a two-bedroom suite instead.” I glance at Zack and don’t miss his delight.

  “Fine.” I already know I’m going to regret it. I should send him to another hotel far away from me.

  * * *

  “Holy fuck, Harrison, this is sweet!” Zack announces once he’s had a whistle stop tour of our home for the next few days.

  He’s right—it’s impressive, but unfortunately his presence puts a dampener on everything about this trip.

  He grabs the welcome pack and starts flicking through. “What’re we doing then? Hit the casino? A club? Oh, look, they have a Cocktail bar, I bet that’s full of hot as fuck waitresses.”

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “F
uck that, Harry, you fucking pussy. We’re in Las Vegas; if you can let your hair down anywhere, it’s here.”

  “I’m good, thanks. I’ve got plans for tomorrow.”

  “How are we fucking related?”

  “Fucked if I know,” I grunt as I turn my back to him. I’ve often wondered if he’s the milkman’s, because he’s nothing like me—or our parents.

  I hear him banging around while I hang up my suits, fold the rest of my clothes in the drawers at the end of the bed, and arrange all my toiletries in the adjoining bathroom, but it’s not long before I hear his footsteps getting closer.

  I don’t look up, but I can feel his eyes burning into my back. “You do know you’re only here for a few days, right? You’re not moving in.” I turn back and see him gazing down at my empty suitcase, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “I’m aware.”

  “You ready?”

  “I already said I’m not going.”

  “We’re in fucking Vegas,” he repeats, like I’ve already forgotten the long arse flight, or the fact that I can see the bright lights of the strip from the window. “We’re going to that cocktail bar. I’m not taking no for an answer.”