The Billionaire of Nottinghamshire, Book One

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by J.M. Cagle




  Billionaire of Nottinghamshire, Book One: Escape from LA

  By J.M. Cagle

  Copyright 2015 J.M. Cagle

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  Other Books in The Billionaire of Nottinghamshire Series

  Book Two: Past Regards

  Table of Contents

  Book One: Escape from LA

  About J.M. Cagle

  Other Books by This Author

  Connect with J.M. Cagle

  Book One: Escape from LA

  “I can’t believe you’re really leaving.”

  Bobbi widened her eyes and nodded slowly. Sighing, she leaned back on the kitchen counter, a beer in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

  “Like seriously, Bob, you love LA! And now you’re letting some stupid guy chase you away?”

  “It’s not over a guy, Gem,” Bobbi replied for the thirtieth time, throwing the crust of her pizza slice back into the box and taking a swig of her beer.

  “Oh, come on.”

  “I’m serious. Yeah, okay, he showing up here instigated the whole thing, but I’m doing this for me. I don’t want to be this person anymore.”

  “What person? Beautiful? Popular –”

  “Self-obsessed,” Bobbi interrupted. “Trapped by an insane longing for more and more worthless possessions! I want to be more than that. My entire life, I’ve gotten everything I want without ever having to really work for it.”

  “You’re an accomplished author.” Gem’s protests struck a nerve in her best friend.

  “An accomplished author? Gem, the majority of my first book was ghost written, and the only reason anyone even bought it was because of who my stepfather is!”

  “O. M. G. This is insane, Bobbi.”

  “Maybe it is insane, or maybe it’s just what I need. Either way it’s happening, so are you going to help me take these boxes downstairs or are you going to make me do it alone?”

  Gem groaned and stared at her disapprovingly. When she was positive that Bobbi wasn’t going to reconsider her decision, she shrugged and gave up. “I’m here now, I might as well help.”

  Bobbi smiled. “Anyway, it’s a tiny little forgotten village in Nottinghamshire! The only trouble I could get into there is if Robin Hood whisks me off my feet and takes me to live with him in Sherwood Forest!” She paused for a moment. “Actually, that sounds pretty tempting…”

  Gem rolled her eyes before bursting into a fit of laughter. She pulled Bobbi into a hug and, within seconds, her laughter turned to tears.

  * * *

  “Welcome to Nottinghamshire, Robin Hood’s County!”

  Butterflies fluttered in Bobbi’s stomach as soon as the words left her lips. Her mouth fell open as she leaned forward in the driver’s seat to take a proper look. She had never seen so much green! Sure, there were trees in LA, but here there was an abundance of everything. There were hills and meadows on either side of the road with streams that reflected the bright blue of the sky dotted, here and there and flowers of all sizes, types and colors everywhere in between. It was like something from a postcard or painting. Even a few horses and cows grazed on the grass, ignoring a fox slinking into the bushes.

  A little further down the curved road and Bobbi finally found herself in civilization. There was a church here, a fountain there, and an old, yet well-kept castle on top the hill in the middle. Despite the small size of the village, it took Bobbi twenty minutes before she found the pretty little cottage she would be renting out. Just as she pulled up, the front door opened and a woman in her early twenties stepped out to greet her.

  “You must be Roberta Jefferson,” she beamed, pulling Bobbi into a hug as soon as she had climbed out of the car.

  Bobbi broke off and smiled back at her. “It’s just Bobbi actually,” she replied with a nervous laugh. “You’re April, right?”

  April nodded. “That’s me, lovey. April Lafferty. How was the drive up here?” She had a slight Welsh twang to her voice, which made Bobbi wonder what her background was; surly she couldn’t have lived here her entire life. Was she leaving an old life far behind her, too?

  “It was fine, thanks,” Bobbi replied, heading towards the back of the car to collect her luggage from the boot. She smiled when she saw her single suitcase and handbag. This time last week, she would have only managed to pack a day’s worth of her life into a case this size, and now she had packed everything she held dear into it and left everything else in storage. “It was a bit hard trying to find the place to begin with,” she continued. “At one point I nearly ended up in a place called Laxton by mistake.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that, darling. Laxton is about 30 miles northeast of here. All farmland. Loxborough is a forgotten little place, but we have thirty times the character, in my humble opinion. Is this all of your luggage?” Bobbi nodded. “You pack light, dear. Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

  Like the village, the cottage, although small, was absolutely beautiful from the inside. It was open plan with a wooden and stone interior. Bobbi was amazed that she could see the rafters. You would never get away with that in the apartments she had lived in in Los Angeles. There were stairs to the left, with a fitted kitchen directly in front of the main door. A dining table was in the far right hand corner, and a pair of glass doors behind them leading into the garden, with a sitting room area to her right.

  “The cottage has two bedrooms. The master bedroom is on the ground floor and that would be mine, just down there, do you see?” April pointed towards a door beneath the stairs in the kitchen. “That second door beside it actually has another door behind that which leads to a bathroom, although you have your own one upstairs, too. An ensuite.”

  “And that’s where I’ll be? Upstairs?”

  “That’s right. You have the entire floor to yourself. It’s large and comfortable. You’ll like it, I think. It gets quite cold here in the evenings so every property in the village has under-floor heating, although we only really turn it on when the cold becomes unbearable. For financial reasons, you understand.”

  Bobbi nodded, but the truth was, she didn’t understand. She didn’t exactly come from money, but she had never wanted for anything before. The under-floor heating in her stepfather’s penthouse automatically switched on when the apartment fell under a certain temperature. He liked everything consistent.

  “Tell you what, I’ll let you get settled, and then we can go for a late lunch at the local pub. You’ll love it there. Wear flat shoes if you have them, though. It’s about a 20 minute walk on a fairly cobbly street.”

  * * *

  Bobbi and April sat and talked for almost an hour before their food arrived; sandwiches so big that you could barely fit them into your mouth, with a cup of hot coffee served in an old diner style pot. April explained that it was an unspoken rule in Loxborough, that if something was worth doing, it was worth taking your time doing. And in the Grantham Hood, a little pub in the center of the village which April had chosen to introduce Bobbi to, this rule was most obvious.

  “There’s a small cinema down the road. Oh, it’s not as grand as the ones I’m sure you’re used to living in California, but the screen is a decent size and it’s comfortable. If you’re not planning anything tomorrow, we could go and see the film that’s playing
if you’d like.”

  “That sounds fun,” Bobbi smiled. “What film are they showing?”

  “I think this week it’s Troy with Brad Pitt. I do like that one. You can understand why they wanted him to play a Greek demigod. He’s delicious!”

  Bobbi’s new housemate wasn’t anything like the women she knew back in Los Angeles. She laughed at the smallest things as though her life depended on it, she had an obsession with Brad Pitt (which Bobbi was sure was slightly unhealthy and possibly the local cinema’s fault), and she found the strangest reasons to drag faith into the conversation. But Bobbi liked her. She could see the two of them becoming fast friends.

  “Do my eyes deceive me or has April come early?”

  April rolled her eyes as though annoyed, but Bobbi noticed a small smile creep along her face all the same.

  “For you, Joey Stiles, April ain’t ever coming anywhere!”

  Joey Stiles, a man with a deep husky laugh, a thick Irish accent, and the bluest eyes Bobbi had ever seen, walked toward them from where he had been leaning on a pillar a few meters away.

  “You break my heart every day, April Lafferty.” He sat beside her on the bench, pushing her along further to make himself comfortable. Although she moved, it was with a tut and another roll of her eyes. “Who’s your friend?” Joey asked, nodding in Bobbi’s direction.

  “I forgot you didn’t know each other. Joey Stiles, this is Roberta Jefferson, the lovely lady that’s just moved into the cottage with me.”

  “Ah yes, April told us all about you. You’re American, aren’t you?”

  Bobbi nodded and took his outstretched hand to shake. “I am. And it’s Bobbi by the way. No one calls me ‘Roberta’ anymore… or ever, come to think about it.”

  “Bobbi, I like that. I’ve never met a Bobby that takes shit from no one!”

  “That’s because the only Bobby you know is Bobby De Niro!”

  Throwing his head back, Joey laughed his husky laugh. Bobbi craned her neck over the heads of her new acquaintances to see a second man walking towards them.

  “Technically, he’s a Robert, Christopher,” Joey replied.

  “Technically, 99% of Bobbys are Roberts,” the man, Christopher, replied. “Or Robertas, it seems.” His green eyes pierced through Bobbi’s own brown ones, sending a strange jolt of electricity through her.

  “Chris, this is Bobbi. She’s the one who’s moving in with me. Renting out the upstairs bedroom, remember me telling you? And Bobbi, this is Christopher Barnes. He’s a bit of a stubborn mule at times, but he’s a good boy at heart.”

  “A good boy? Come now, April, there’s barely a decade between us.”

  April smiled and rolled her eyes once again. Three times in less than ten minutes. Bobbi began to realize that this might be yet another of her new friend’s habits to keep an eye on.

  “You not sitting, Chris?”

  “Actually, I saw Joe walk in and wanted a quick word, if that’s alright.”

  “For you, Christopher, you can have more than one,” Joey replied with a wink.

  Before he followed, Joey stole a few sips of April’s coffee while she stared out of the window, giving Bobbi a few moments to sneak a proper look at Chris. He stood at about 6’1” and was lean and yet muscular, with broad shoulders. Bobbi found herself wondering what it would be like to run her hands through his dark hair or perhaps plant kisses down his chiseled cheekbones, up his long neck and finally on those perfect lips. Bobbi had never before liked a man with stubble – the kisses were too itchy – but she found herself longing for his. She shook the idea out of her head and focused her attention on what April was saying, although it seemed she was mid-conversation.

  “– turns out that her father had an affair when he was in Scotland, and the man she was dating was actually her half-brother –”

  Bobbi would later realize that April was also an avid viewer of daytime soap operas, especially ones filled with shocking dramatic moments such as incest relationships.

  “So you and Joey…” Bobbi said deliberately slowly, before she took a sip of her coffee with a naughty smile.

  “Joey? And I? No, no, no,” April laughed nervously. “Oh that is funny. Joey and I! What an idea.”

  “What’s funny about it? You’re single, right?”

  “Yes, but –”

  “And Joey?”

  “Oh, his wife left him a few years ago. Almost two decades, now, actually. Ran away with a bartender during their honeymoon.”

  “Oh that’s terrible!” Bobbi looked up at Joey, who was currently leaning over a table, apparently in a deep, seriously conversation with Chris. If first impressions were anything to go by, he seemed lovely. A little too playful for Bobbi’s taste, but otherwise perfectly lovely.

  “I knew her, you know,” April said, snapping Bobbi’s attention back in her direction. “We practically grew up together. Braided each other’s hair, confided in each about our first crushes, I was even there to hold her hand when her parents divorced.”

  “What happened?”

  There was silence as April put her cup down and stared at it. Then she suddenly smiled and changed the subject.

  “So, what do you do then, Bobbi? For a living, that is?”

  “I’m a writer, actually.”

  “A writer?” April sounded delighted with the answer. “Of fiction?”

  Bobbi nodded, her smile fake as she looked from Joey to April and back again.

  * * *

  Bobbi threw down the book she was trying desperately to read. Was it selfish of her to want to know the rest of the story? The reason why April and Joey’s ex-wife no longer spoke? Wait. Did it have something to do with Joey? Is that why she was so set against the idea of them being an item?

  Her brain didn’t waste too much time in switching to thoughts of Chris, sending tingling sensations all the way down her body. At first, she wondered if he was single, but then she remembered how he’d barely acknowledged her existence. She wasn’t used to being the girl that wasn’t noticed. But that was the whole point of her being here, wasn’t it? To let go of the ‘popularity’ card and become ‘a mere mortal’ as Gem would say.

  Right on cue, Bobbi’s phone began to ring and Gem’s smiling face appeared on the screen. With a big grin, Bobbi rolled over onto her stomach and answered.

  “What up, biatch!”

  Bobbi frowned. “Seriously? We’re resorting to name-calling now?”

  “You lost the right to choose what I call you when you left me alone in LA. You want it back? You come home. Simple as that.”

  “Fair enough,” Bobbi smiled, giving up on the discussion. Ever since they had been girls, her best friend would become the epitome of adolescence when she didn’t get her own way. Perhaps it had something to do with being the youngest in her family (and her father’s favorite).

  “He came over this afternoon,” Gem blurted out.

  Bobbi froze.

  “By he, you mean –”

  “Yep!”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said that you’d packed up and left the country. Gone to Scotland. Or England. Or wherever the hell you are. Where the hell is Nottingham, anyway?”

  “And that’s all you told him?”

  “O. M. G., Bobbi! I’m not stupid. Of course that’s all I told him.”

  Bobbi relaxed slightly. There was no way he would fly half way across the world to find her. He might be out of his mind, but not ridiculous enough to follow her to Loxborough.

  “What about Tommy?” Bobbi asked. “Have you seen him, yet?”

  “I gave him a call last night, you know, just after your flight left. We’re catching up next week for a latte. I don’t think he knows you’ve left, yet. I certainly didn’t tell him, but that doesn’t mean one of those other skanks hasn’t, though.”

  “Call me when you see him, yeah. I’ve got to go now, though. One night in a luxury hotel after that hideously long flight w
as wonderful, but that drive to get here has made my hair feel like straw. I don’t think it was my best idea renting a convertible, even if it was a Chevrolet. I may have to get a Range Rover or something a little more country worthy. Either way, I need a nice long soak!” There was silence. “Gem?”

  “You realize you haven’t even asked me how I’m doing, right?”

  “Oh Gem, I’m so sorry. How are you?”

  She could practically hear Gem shrugging. “Absolutely brilliant,” she replied blankly. Then, suddenly, she began to fake excitement. “I have invitations to the hottest parties of the year, dates lined up with the sexiest gazillionaires in Los Angeles, and, best of all, Ann Summers just sent me a box full of their latest toys to play with! Life is brilliant without you here dragging the mood down with all your dramas!”

  There was a sad note behind every word Gem said and Bobbi didn’t miss a single bit of it. They hadn’t spent a day apart since they were twelve years old. Of course they were both finding the separation difficult, especially under the circumstances.

  “Anyway, you better go wash your hair before you turn into a scarecrow. I’ll call you soon.”

  “Love –” Gem hung up. “– You...” Bobbi finished, staring at her phone.

  She was slowly losing everything, everyone, because of a single mistake.

  * * *

  It had been almost a week since Bobbi had moved in with April in Loxborough and, truth be told, it was as difficult to adjust as she had initially thought it would be. The weather, she was assured, was typically British, which she soon discovered meant that it was all over the place, with almost all four seasons coming and going in a single day. Both the cottage and the village were small, often suffocatingly so, with a lack of every luxury Bobbi craved. But the people were friendly and polite which, despite everything, was a nice change to the self-centered company she was used to spending the majority of her time with.

  “Well, if it isn’t Bobbi Roberta!”

  Without having to turn around, Bobbi knew who it was. Since their first meeting in the Grantham Hood, she had taken a liking to Joey. He had a strange sense of humor, but he was the jolliest man she had ever met, which definitely gave him a few extra points.

 

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