Famous Last by Brian Lancaster
General Release Date: 29th November 2022
Word Count: 92,304
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 366
Genres:
CELEBRITIES,CHRISTMAS,COMEDY AND HUMOUR,CONTEMPORARY,EROTIC ROMANCE,GAY,GLBTQI,HOLIDAYS
Add to Goodreads
Book Description
One starry, starry night, romance blossoms during Christmas lockdown.
One glacial Friday night in late October, Spencer K. Wyrrell—Squirrel—sits hidden behind an evergreen bush, freezing his arse off on a stone bench in the deserted twentieth-floor rooftop garden of his boss’s London flat. Taking a break from volunteering to show social-distanced guests around her penthouse gallery of abstract art, he is waiting with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne for the arrival of his habitually unpunctual colleague and best friend, Bev. But when the balcony door eventually slides open, the person who steps out is not his friend at all but the smoking-hot celebrity and chat-show host, Marshall J. Highlander. Unsure what to do, Spencer stays put and overhears Highlander’s private call. A newspaper is threatening to publish nude photographs of him and an ex-boyfriend from a holiday in France.
After more calls are made, an eerie silence descends on the rooftop. When a curious Spencer peers through the evergreen plant, he notices Highlander has climbed up onto the small wall surrounding the garden, looking out to the River Thames. In a moment of panic, Spencer decides to show himself, because, celebrity or not, everyone is only human and, as his mother has always drummed into him, most problems can be softened with well-chosen words, a little understanding, and a hug tight enough to make your eyes water.
And on that starry, starry night, an unexpected romance blossoms between two unlikely souls during a time of Christmas lockdown.
Five minutes late for work, Spencer marched along the office corridor, using a cardboard tray holder to balance twelve various-sized, various-coloured metal containers filled with all kinds of exotic coffee or tea permutations from Muriel’s independent coffee shop of choice. Over one shoulder he had a bag containing her laptop computer and cables for hooking up her presentation. Monday morning meetings happened in the main conference room, a large boardroom space with a glitzy plaque bearing the word Magic on the door. Muriel started the first get-together of every week promptly at nine whether people were there or not, and very loudly named and shamed anyone who dared arrive late.
Feeling in an upbeat mood that morning, he had picked out a black shirt, black trousers and a shocking pink bow tie, with a matching pink belt and face mask—his friend who custom-made the bow ties and belts had also started a range of matching reusable masks. Together with Spencer’s thick-black-framed glasses, he considered his range of colourful bow ties and shirts his personal brand. Many of his colleagues had made their approval plain.
Not Muriel, though. Except when he made the very rare mistake, he might otherwise have been invisible. She referred to their first meeting of the week as her War Council, and every Monday morning the thirty-seater conference room became known as the War Room. Not difficult to guess that her retired husband, Lord Atherton Moresby, had once been in the armed services.
Worst of all, Bev had texted him that morning while he’d grabbed Muriel’s laptop, saying she was running late again and could he cover for her until she arrived.
With the tray balanced at chest height, he placed his back against the door to the conference room, took a deep breath and pushed.
Maybe the universe will be kind to me today.
“Spencer,” came the condescending schoolmarm tone of Muriel, the one person in the room who chose not to wear any kind of face covering. “Nice of you to finally deign to join us. Everyone’s gasping. Why is the simplest of tasks always a challenge for you?”
Or maybe not.
“Sorry, Muriel. Long queue outside the coffee shop this morning. Seems to be getting more and more popular.”
A close friend of hers ran the place, and he hoped the positive comment might negate his tardiness. He placed the tall spangly black canister down in front of her first before walking around the huge conference table placing drinks in front of each of those gathered.
“Really? I find that hard to believe. At eight o’clock this morning, when my driver took me past on my way into the office, the place looked entirely empty.”
Purposely not meeting her gaze, he began setting up the laptop. With the minimum of fuss, he laid the LED TV remote control and the stylish gold laser pointer next to her computer touchpad and stepped away. After tossing his switched-off smartphone into the small mesh cage in the middle of the table—one of Muriel’s house rules—he made his way down to his seat and sat among his all-female colleagues. Only Beverley’s seat next to his remained vacant.
“All done, Muriel. And your presentation’s loaded.”
Some of his colleagues questioned why Muriel had hired him. Perhaps, he told them, the head of Human Resources had suggested she redress the workforce diversity balance, although Spencer could not imagine anyone brave enough to tell Muriel what to do. Hiring someone like him, an openly gay male, would normally have ticked a few boxes. Except her son and prodigy, Blake Ulysses Moresby, had already bagged that title, even if he had never done so publicly. He had also bagged Spencer. After showing him the ropes during Spencer’s first week in the company, Blake had definitely gone the extra mile to make him feel welcome. Blake, the one who got away. Or rather, the one he’d never really had in the first place, who had charmed the pants off him—literally—before shunning and finally dumping him. Working in the same office had only ever been bearable because Blake spent so much time away on assignment.
“Finally.”
In his messed-up way, Spencer still fantasised about Blake and tended to hide whenever the boss’s charismatic son entered the premises. Blake had almost quoted him the Official Secrets Act when he cooled off their short-lived liaison. Spencer had been happy to oblige. Who wanted people knowing you had been dumped? Only Bev knew some of the story, the parts he felt less uneasy about. Muriel’s dislike of Spencer had been a slow progression long after they had cooled off. Even now he had no idea why. Her disdain had become the norm, something he expected and had learnt to shrug off.
“Do you need me to—?”
“Sit. Down. Spencer.”
Buy Links
Choose Your Store
First For Romance
Amazon
Brian Lancaster
Brian Lancaster is an author of gay romantic fiction in multiple genres, including contemporary romance, paranormal, fantasy, crime, mystery, and anything else that tickles his muse’s fancy. Born in the sleepy South of England where most of his stories are set, he moved to Southeast Asia in 1998, where he now shares a home with his husband and two of the laziest cats on the planet.
Find out more about Brian at his website.
Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.
