His Manhattan: A British Billionaire Romance (The Cocktail Girls) by Tracy Lorraine

Author:Tracy Lorraine [Lorraine, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

We’re shown to our table and Harrison pulls my seat out for me before ordering a bottle of wine I’ve never heard of.

“Is white okay?” he asks when he sees the confusion on my face.

“I guess. I’ve never had any.”

“You’ve never drank wine?”

“No. I don’t really drink. It’s only since I’ve moved here that I’ve tried a few cocktails.”

“Looks like I’ve got plenty of things to introduce you to, then.”

I shouldn’t be as excited as I am by his words. He’s here for business; we’ve got a limited amount of time. He shouldn’t be talking like that, and I definitely shouldn’t be thinking it’s any more than it is.

“Where are you from in England?” I ask, pushing my previous thoughts to the back of my mind where they belong.

“London.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to London. My grandad was British. He used to tell me all about Buckingham Palace and the Queen. I’d love to see it in more than just pictures.”

“I’ve lived there all my life, so I guess I don’t see the excitement, but it is a great city. Where was your grandad from?”

I shake my head, “I can’t remember.” Thoughts of my grandad put a little damper on my spirits. I miss him terribly. “I think it was pretty central, though. I used to love his accent, and he’d teach me all the slang. Dog and bone, apples and pears,” I say, remembering a couple he would use.

Harrison laughs and the sound warms me from the inside out. “You know we don’t actually talk like that, right?”

“Of course.”

“What about you? You said you were from Manhattan—what did you do before moving here?”

“I was in college, but I also worked in our local shop.”

Our food arrives and distracts our conversation. I’m pleased because I felt like the family question was coming next, and I really don’t want to talk about that. I have a great family; they’re kind and caring, but that wasn’t enough for me. My desire to go to art school wasn’t shared by my old fashioned parents, which is why as soon as I turned twenty-one, I left. Not only am I their only girl, but I’m also the youngest. I’ve been overprotected by my parents and my brothers my whole life. They weren’t happy to say the least when I announced I was leaving.

When we’ve finished our desserts, I ask the one question I’ve been trying to put off. “How long are you here for?”

“A few more days,” he admits after a few moments of silence. “It could be extended, I’m sure.”

“Don’t you have to be back for work?” I regret the question the second it leaves my lips, because it makes me sound like I don’t want him here.

“Everyone is more than capable without me. Are you finished?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Yes, it was delicious. Thank you.”

Harrison asks for the cheque, and I’m suddenly very nervous. What’s going to happen next? Talk of our lives and his limited time here has put a damper on my earlier desire.

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