Her Billionaire Man TENSION Book 1

By Olivia Summer

My life has always been such a clownish mess. Still, nothing beats old Mrs. Janey leaving her silly parrot a vast percentage of her establishment, worth billions. Now the bird, Boosh, is a billionaire! Hilarious, right? For goodness, flipping, sake! Who does that?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: romanceshortbooks.com
• Release date: Nov 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781778485206

Olivia Summer

Welcome! Share your FREE Steamy Romance eBook1 & join our community at HERBILLIONAIREMAN.COMFollow on FB/IG @romanceshortbooks ❤️����Ready? Enter our characters' intimate thoughts, and feel their raw emotions as you see through their eyes. Be the 'fly on the wall' as you live life alongside them. Bringing you into a detailed world of love, suspense, tension, and excitement while leaving you on an emotional cliff of curiosity alongside imperfect characters, forcing you to wonder which way the story will take you next.Are you ready for your new obsession? ;)---Follow HBM On Social Now!Her Billionaire Man ❤️���� Steamy Romance eBooks Series FBhttps://www.facebook.com/romanceshortbooksIGhttps://www.instagram.com/romanceshortbooks

Book preview

Chapter One

I was sitting in my parent's cozy apartment in Soho, New York City, staring at Boosh, my newly inherited parrot. I was wondering how I would take care of a bird—a boisterous one at that—when I could barely take care of myself.

Boosh, like Mrs. Janey, fondly called the bird, was a pretty parrot, if you consider all gray feathers, except the red ones around its eyes, exquisite. Okay, enough of the sarcasm. Boosh wasn't pretty by a stretch. Honestly, I had seen other parrots around with numerous beautiful colors, but no, Boosh had to be a dull gray. Pity!

Her eyes were too intense, ogling like it was going to pop out of their sockets, and they never looked cheerful. Now that her owner was dead, I think she looked even worse, and right now, the creepy part was, that Boosh was staring back at me like she knew what I was thinking about. Silly parrot.

But then, I do like her, though. She makes me laugh when she repeats the things people say, no matter how weird they were, and being her guardian now meant I would hear her do that all the time.

Her owner, the late Mrs. Janey—God bless her soul— who used to live a few blocks away from my apartment, was the last soul I would’ve pegged a parrot lover. She could've easily kept a sweet kitten or a puppy, but I learned, over time that Mrs. Janey was just as weird as Boosh, and that's why they suited each other perfectly.

I met Mrs. Janey one morning while I was heading to work. She held onto a bag of groceries in one hand and a birdcage in the other. I felt her discomfort from where I stood, waiting for a cab. I glanced at my wristwatch to see if I could help her, without getting late for work. I had twenty minutes to spare, so I dashed over to her and offered to help with her bag or the cage. I was surprised she handed the bag to me because I could see the cage was heavier. But there was no way Mrs. Janey was handing over her precious bird to a stranger.

She thanked me, profusely, for my help when we got to her house. She invited me to tea the next morning, which was a Saturday. I had wanted to decline, but something about the woman was pulling me closer, and in the end, I accepted and left for my workplace.

The following morning I went over to Mrs. Janey's house ... she had breakfast ready.  During my three-hour stay that morning, and the rest of our years together, she told me all about herself, her family, and, of course, Boosh. I had to extend my gratitude to the bird too … I guess I must’ve done it a little too enthusiastically, so now she had willed the bird custodianship to me.

There was a knock on the door, and I stood up from my comfy position on the couch to answer it. There was a delivery man on the other side of the door, and he handed two letters to me. I looked at him in confusion because my notes were usually in my mailbox, so why were these delivered personally? But I took the letters and appended my signatures, where he asked me to. I thanked him for his