Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks



I was going to miss my flight if this stupid Uber driver didn’t step on it. What the fuck, man? I looked over at him, driving with great concentration. “Hey, buddy,” I started as nicely as I could, “I am going to miss my flight. Can we go a little faster?”

“I’m going as fast as Chester can take us,” he answered while petting his dash.

“Chester?” I questioned as he continued down side streets that I only prayed he was being directed through because his GPS had a quicker way to get us to LAX.

“The name of this little guy,” he exclaimed about his tiny microcar.

“Ah,” I answered. “Well, is Chester by chance small enough to fit down the back alleys of this neighborhood we’re in?”

“Chester doesn’t do illegal,” the middle-aged man smiled.

Of all the Ubers I could’ve gotten, it’s a guy who named his car Chester that will prevent me from my much-needed week-long escape to London with my foster sister.

“Here…” he said softly, turning to the right, “we…are,” he stated nice and calmly. “You enjoy the flight, Avery. Keep the tip. Chester could’ve done better and gotten you here earlier. He doesn’t deserve the good gas.”

I looked at the man and forced a smile. You’re a whacko! “I’ve got your tip—”

He stopped me from reaching into my purse. “No,” he frowned, “You were too stressed. Chester and I will rather have a good review.”

“Got it,” I said, grabbing my carry on and taking off, never looking back at that crazy scene again.

I never thought I’d be sitting here, air blowing on my face and engines running on the plane. I closed my eyes, sitting in serenity only to have my neighbor—a two-year-old kid—poke my nose. I was never going to survive this ten-hour, non-stop flight to Europe.

Ignore him, and he’ll stop, I thought, knowing this was not the solution. Trust me, I knew my three-year-old daughter would only take it as a greater challenge.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” My eyes snapped open to see a flight attendant on my left, “We have an opportunity for you to upgrade to first-class if you’d like to take it.”

“Oh?” I said, knowing my wealthy sister had booked the flight on her mileage rewards, and I just hit the lottery. “I’d love to.”

She escorted me up to where passengers were seated with more room and luxury.

“Right here,” she directed me to the seat where a businessman sat, staring at his phone.

He glanced up, and brilliant green eyes framed by dark lashes met mine, throwing me completely off. God damn, I’d never seen a man this handsome before in my life. Guys who looked like this modeled Gucci suits and lived on the covers of magazines for women to drool over. Now I was being seated next to this handsome man on a non-stop flight from L.A. to London. Talk about a first-class upgrade. Maybe I died from carbon monoxide poisoning when I was driving in Chester?

He smiled, stood, and allowed me into my seat next to the window. So, this was awesome, now I was afraid I’d have to go to the bathroom the entire flight, constantly disturbing Mr. Sexy in a suit because he was too tall to shift his legs for me to get through.

“We’ll serve drinks once we’re in the air,” the flight attendant said. “Anything you need, we’ll ensure you’re taken care of. Enjoy your flight, Miss Gilbert.”

“Thanks,” I said. My phone rang, and it was my sister—God love her. “What, do they instantly send you notification that I accepted the First-Class seating on your behalf?” I snickered.

“Hey,” Britney said, “your dick-bag ex is giving mom shit right now.”

“What?” I asked. “I don’t have time for his bullshit. Period.”

“You need to call him. I just left the house. I’ll be landing after you, but the hotel suite is ready for us in London.”

“Fine,” I sighed and hung up.

“Please turn off all electronic devices…”

“Fuck,” I whispered. Okay. Breathe. I dialed out anyway.

“Sup?” Derek answered.

“Listen, asshole,” I growled into the phone, “Your parents aren’t getting Addison until after I get home.”

“You should’ve thought this through,” he growled.

“I thought it all through, dick,” I tried to keep my voice down. Swear to God this drug addict brought out the worst in me, and now I was going to get kicked out of First Class by Mr. Sexy himself. “My mom is staying at my place with her. You need to figure out your new drug charges before I let you anywhere around her again.”

“Avery,” he