Silver Lining

by E. J. Shortall

  SILVER LINING

  By E.J. Shortall

  SILVER LINING

  Book One in the Silver Series

  Copyright © 2014 by E.J. Shortall

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  DEDICATION

  Silver Lining is dedicated to my lovely mum, Linda.

  She is a true inspiration and I strive to be more like her every day.

  The world is sadder place without her.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Edited by: Kendra Gaither at Kendra's Proofreading, Line Editing, and Reviewing

  Cover Designed by: Judy Bullard at Custom Ebook Covers

  First and foremost, I have to acknowledge the love and patience of my long suffering partner and our son. They have suffered the untidy house, quick meals and ignored questions since Silver Lining took root and became my obsession. Your love and support means more to me than I can ever show.

  Catrina, my BFF. Thank you for taking the time out of your hectic daily schedule to be my guinea pig… um, I mean, first reader. Your thoughts, ideas, enthusiasm and unwavering support mean so much.

  Dorothy, your support and encouragement truly has been a driving force in me seeing this through, and in giving me the courage to click ‘Publish’.

  To my beta readers, Jennifer, Kay, Karen, Jessica G, Jessica M, Diane, Celina, Christy and Sammia. I could not possibly type enough Thank You’s to express my thanks and gratitude for your support and feedback. I have laughed, cried and been left speechless by your words. You guys truly are amazing, and I am so pleased I spotted a random post online one evening that lead me to you all.

  To my editor, Kendra. Again, not enough thank you’s. I know you had your work cut out with me, and I am so grateful you gave my baby a chance. With your support, it has grown from a mediocre piece of fiction full of errors, to something I hope will be embraced, and cherished as much as I love and cherish it.

  To all the bloggers that took a chance on an unknown and helped with cover reveals and promotion. Your support means so much to me.

  And finally, to you, my readers. The fact you are here reading this right now, amazes me no end. I hope you enjoyed reading Craig and Amber’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  PROLOGUE

  “Have you ever had one of those moments, you know, those monumental moments where time seems to slow down and everything around you goes blurry? Or maybe you’ve received some news that leaves you so devastated you want to crawl under the nearest rock and never come out again?

  I have. On both counts.

  David and I had been together since we were seventeen and studying at the same college. We’d only been on a few dates before falling madly in love, and making our relationship official. We’d even managed to keep our romance going when I was off studying at university, and he stayed local to get a job. After I graduated with a degree in Business Management, I got a job at a High School back in my hometown, and we decided to move in together. On my twenty-third birthday, David surprised me with dinner out and a diamond ring for my left hand. It wasn’t a particularly romantic proposal, but of course I squealed, cried, and finally managed to squeak a “yes” before he slipped the ring on my finger.

  It took me over a year to get David to commit to a date for the wedding, and even then, we set it for two years later. It didn’t matter. I was happy. We had a date, and I could start planning. I solely undertook all the organising. All David had to do was visit a couple of venues with me and attend a menu tasting. He had it easy. Me? I purchased every wedding magazine available, joined several Internet forums, and became quite the creative type when I decided to make all our stationery. I’ll admit I became a bit obsessed, but I wanted our special day to be beautiful and was prepared to pull out all the stops to achieve it.

  There were only a couple of weeks until the wedding. Everything was pretty much confirmed and paid for, we’d gotten all RSVPs back, and I was working on the dreaded seating plan.

  Then one evening, David came home from work and was really quiet. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and wasn’t himself at all. I asked him what was wrong, and he hit me with the bombshell that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go through with the wedding. He didn’t want to get married.

  I had the aforementioned moment when I couldn’t comprehend what he was talking about, and then of course, I began assuming the worst; that he’d been seeing someone behind my back, he didn’t love me after all, he was already married and we had been living a lie all this time. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. The simple fact was he didn’t want to marry me. I was left devastated, angry and so confused. The man I’d always thought I’d spend the rest of my life with simply didn’t want me anymore.

  To this day, I still don’t really know why he suddenly couldn't go through with it. So what’s a girl to do when her heart has been shattered into a million pieces and all trust in the man she loves has been totally destroyed?"

  CHAPTER ONE

  Welcome to my new home, and to the start of my new life, I think to myself as I close the door and take in my surroundings. This is my new place of refuge; a two bedroom flat in a newly built complex in the outer suburbs of London. It’s small but cosy, and more than adequate for my newly single self.

  The moving guys just left, leaving me alone with what feels like hundreds of boxes and a lifetime of memories to sort through.

  Before I can even think about unpacking, I’m going to need my caffeine fix. Making a beeline for the box labelled “Kitchen essentials,” I push everything else aside. The pots, pans, books, linens and everything else can wait, but the coffee maker can’t. Thankfully for me, the box I need is the third one I come to, so I set about making myself that much needed cup of liquid heaven. It has been one long and emotional day, and I need the boost to even think about sorting out the rest of this stuff.

  Some people rely on air, food and water to survive. I rely on coffee. If I haven’t had my morning quota by nine, don’t even bother approaching me, unless you want to unleash the wrath of the decaffeinated queen of the underworld and risk the end of civilisation as we know it.

  I flop down onto my new sofa with the much needed brew nestled between my palms, when my phone starts blaring at me from somewhere in the flat. Crap, where did I drop my bag when I came in? Quickly scrambling to my feet, and nearly dropping my mug and scalding myself in the process, I clamber across boxes to find it, stubbing my toes along the way.

  I spot my bag on the kitchen counter, but the moment I lunge to reach for it, the phone goes silent. Cursing under my breath, I continue into the kitchen to retrieve the now silent device, wondering who would be calling. Anyone of any importance knows what I’m doing today and should therefore know that now is not a good time to chat.

  Putting my coffee mug down on the counter, I dip into my bag to pull out the phone. As my fingers circle the device, it starts ringing again. The sudden noi
se startles me, and I nearly send the bloody thing flying across the room. Pulling myself together, I look at the display and smile. The laughing face of Becki, my best friend who I love dearly, but who is also a complete pain in the arse, appears on the screen.

  “Hi Bec, what’s up?” I answer, happy to hear a friendly voice.

  “Where the bloody hell have you been, Amber? I’ve been calling you all day.” Becki hollers in reply.

  “Where do you think I’ve been? You know I’ve been moving into my new place today.”

  What’s she on? I silently think to myself. She had been with me last night as I packed up the last of my belongings, hugging me when my tears wouldn’t stop and giving me lots of pep talks about moving on with my life, starting afresh and having “lots and lots of hot and sexy fun;” her words not mine.

  “I knooow, but why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “Are you my mum now or something?” I reply sarcastically. “I didn’t hear the phone ringing until just now.”

  “Look, I know you’re really busy and want to settle in, but I feel a new home, good riddance dickhead celebration is in order,” she chuckles. “I can either bring a bottle of vino round, or we can go check out that new club in town. What do you think?”

  “Bec, I have literally just stepped foot in here. I just want to make a start on unpacking, have a nice long soak in the bath, chill with a book and then go to bed. Thanks for the offer, but I’m really not up to it tonight.”

  “Nope, not gonna happen, girlie. You can sort out the essentials tomorrow and then finish off the rest whenever. I’ll even come and help. You’re finally free of Mr No Balls. You’re young, you’re gorgeous, and you’ve got a whole new life ahead of you. You need to start off with a bang.”

  I want to argue, I really do, but when Becki is in one of these moods there is just no reasoning with her. I know she won’t let up until I agree; tenacious doesn’t even come close to describing Becki.

  “Well, if you’re not going to give me a chance to unpack this stuff, then there’s no point in coming round here. Without glasses, we’d be swigging from the bottle,” I force myself to half laugh. I’m seriously not in the mood for this.

  “Good answer. I had absolutely no intentions of staying in anyway, so the club it is. I’ll pick you up at seven. That should give you enough time to find your make up and something to wear in those boxes of yours. Everything else can wait. And Ambs, no half-hearted attempts at dolling yourself up. I want to see the HOT new you.” Without waiting for my reply, she hangs up.

  I feel like I’ve been run over by a ten ton truck. Seriously, I just want to sort out a few boxes, chill in some bubbles with my e-reader and then crash; not stand around all night feeling sad, lonely and self-conscious.

  Checking my phone for the time, I note that I have a few hours to sort out my clothes for something to wear, have a shower and get ready, hopefully to Becki’s exacting standards.

  I check though my call log and roll my eyes when I see only one missed call, from Becki; the one a mere thirty seconds before the one I answered, the one I nearly broke my bloody toe rushing for. Calling me all day, my arse. She really is such a drama queen sometimes. Shaking my head, I drop the phone onto the kitchen counter, gulp down my now lukewarm coffee and head off to my bedroom to find something “hot” to wear.

  At seven o’clock sharp, I’m in my bedroom adding the finishing touches to my make-up when the intercom buzzes.

  “It’s me. Let me in. It’s pissing down out here!” Becki shouts into the receiver downstairs. I’m a little shocked for two reasons. Firstly, Becki is on time. Becki is never on time, ever! Secondly, it’s raining? Seriously? Shit. It had been such a beautiful day earlier. I will probably have to reconsider my footwear choice now, which means more rifling through boxes.

  Fantastic!

  I press the button on the entry system and buzz Becki in, looking around me for the box labelled ‘shoes’. A minute later and she’s pounding on my door. Opening it wide, I move aside to let her in.

  As she enters the hallway, Becki lets out a loud whistle. “Nice place, Ambs. You did well.”

  Becki hadn’t seen the place before I moved in. No one had, not even pictures. When David and I broke up, I decided I needed to move on with my life by doing things my way, answering to nobody but myself and finding myself along the way. I’ve spent too many years leaning on others, and somehow, I’ve forgotten who I really am.

  I glance around my new space, taking in the open plan living and kitchen area with oak wooden flooring, the white walls and white kitchen cupboards with black granite counter tops. I think some nice bright cushions and rugs will add some much needed colour to the otherwise cool feel of the place. All in good time, though.

  Not that Becki can see from where we stand, but off the hall there are two double bedrooms and a bathroom, all decorated in the same neutral colours as the rest of the place.

  But the thing that had sold this place to me is the large, floor-to-ceiling window on the far wall of the living area. From there, French doors lead out onto a wraparound balcony that overlooks a tranquil park area. I had visions of myself sitting out there in the summer, chilling with my ereader and a glass of wine.

  The monthly rent is more than I had wanted to pay, but I’m hoping to let out the second bedroom. That should help financially, but will also give me some company, being as I’m not used to living alone.

  Becki is mooching around the place, peeking into each room and taking it all in, but not saying a word. There really isn’t much to look at yet, seeing as someone hasn’t given me the chance to unpack and sort out all of my stuff.

  “Have you finished being a nosey bitch yet?” I joke, as she walks back into the living room.

  “Yep, I’m done,” she replies in all seriousness, coming back to stand in front of me. “Are you ready to get your groove on and embrace the joys of single life, Miss Merchant?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I just need to change my shoes. I don’t think these sandals and rain work that well together.”

  Becki looks down at my feet then slowly works her way up my body, taking in my high heeled silver sandals, dark skinny jeans, white lace halter top and large, silver hooped earrings. I had decided to leave my wavy, blonde hair down, with just a few front strands pulled back and secured with diamante pins. I had kept my make up fairly neutral - just a hint of blush, nude gloss on my lips and a touch of mascara to help brighten my almond shaped hazel eyes. Feeling slightly uncomfortable under her scrutiny, I make a move towards the mess that is my bedroom.

  “Don’t change,” Becki says quickly, stopping me in my tracks. “You look hot. And don’t worry about the rain. Scott’s downstairs in his car. He’s going to drive us and be our DD.”

  “Scott’s here?” I ask, surprised. “Why didn’t he come up?”

  Scott is Becki’s on again, off again... how should I put it… fuck buddy? That’s unfortunately the only way you can describe the relationship between those two. They’re so good together, yet neither of them wants to commit, so they enjoy each other’s friendship, and the occasional romp in the bed sheets. When they’re done, they move on to the next person that shows the slightest interest in them. The only problem with the whole situation is that you can see how much it hurts the other when one is with someone else. But they swear they don’t want to be together. It’s so frustrating.

  “He knew we wouldn’t be long, and he couldn’t be bothered to go find a proper parking spot, so he’s traffic warden watching,” she says, grinning.

  “Well, okay then. We better get down there, so he doesn’t end up with a ticket.” I grab my clutch bag, slip my arm through Becki’s, and we head out the front door.

  Scott is sitting in the driver’s seat of his blue, sporty BMW M3 that is parked just outside my block. He smiles when he sees us walking toward him and jumps out to allow me to get in the back.

  “Hi Ambs. How did the move go? I must admit, I was
surprised when Bec phoned to say we were all going out tonight. I thought you’d be shattered and sorting out your stuff. Does this mean you’re done already?”

  “Are you kidding me? I should be upstairs unpacking. There are boxes everywhere. And I am shattered. But as usual, Madame there,” I look pointedly at Becki who has just sat down in the front passenger seat, “wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, here I am. Don’t expect a party animal out of me tonight. I just want to enjoy a couple of drinks and catch up with you guys.”

  Becki mumbles something from the front that I choose to ignore.

  “Okaaay,” she shouts, turning up the volume of the car stereo. “Let’s stop with the pow-wow and go get our groove on.”

  Scott and I both roll our eyes and start laughing at Becki’s enthusiasm. He starts the engine and pulls out onto the road. I can’t help but smile. This is me, starting out on my new life, destination unknown!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Shortly after eight pm, Scott pulls up outside Strobes, a new nightclub in town that has garnered quite a buzz in recent weeks. Tonight it seems exceptionally busy. Telling us to head inside, Scott drives off to park the car. He’ll come and find us later. As I start to walk toward the black smoked glass entrance, Becki grabs my shoulders and turns me to face her.

  “Before we go in there, I just wanted to tell you that I am so proud of you. You’ve been through so much this last year, and as happy as I am that you finally saw sense and ditched the douche, I’m sad that you’ve been so unhappy for so long. You deserve so much more than he ever showed you. I want you to put it all behind you tonight. Let your hair down, enjoy a few drinks, get sweaty on the dance floor, meet new people and just experience what living, and enjoying life is all about.” She then snakes her arm through mine and leads us to the doorway.