SAMANTHA TONGE lives in Cheshire with her lovely family and a cat who thinks it’s a dog. Along with writing, her days are spent cycling, willing cakes to rise and avoiding housework. A love of fiction developed as a child, when she was known for reading Enid Blyton books in the bath. A desire to write bubbled away in the background whilst she pursued other careers, including a fun stint working at Disneyland Paris. Formally trained as a linguist, Samantha now likes nothing more than holing herself up in the spare room, in front of the keyboard. Writing romantic comedy novels is her passion.
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Copyright
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016
Copyright © Samantha Tonge 2016
Samantha Tonge asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © July 2016 ISBN: 9780008184841
Version date: 2018-06-20
CHAPTER 1
Taut bare chest boasting a natural-looking six-pack. Muscular arms wielding a scythe. Raven curls rippling in the breeze. Smouldering expression tense as the grass-cutting implement is raised in the air. The hint of manly, musky perspiration. All this set against rugged Cornish countryside …
Mmm. Thanks to scenes from my Poldark box set, any free window of time in my head is easily filled. For those of you unfamiliar with the hit Cornish mining television series, book yourself a doctor’s appointment. You must be seriously loopy—as in out of the loop!
OK. Apologies. Perhaps that was a bit rude. Not everyone, like me, is a self-confessed geek when it comes to historical books and films—for example, did you know the original title for Pride and Prejudice was First Impressions? Talking of which, I probably didn’t look my most appealing at the moment, having just bitten into a black cherry doughnut. I suspected a splodge of the filling had stuck to my nose. But mmm … the oozing maroon sauce tasted almost alcoholic and offered the same effect as a cheerful cocktail—that is a feel-good warmth flowing down my throat to the rest of my body.
Eyes closed, I made an appreciative noise as I savoured another bite, its piquant flavours heightened by a mouthful of rich hot espresso.
‘Dreaming of unpaid overtime, are, you? Honestly, Kate, stop being such a workaholic.’
‘Ha, ha—aren’t you funny?’ I opened my eyes. ‘Not that paying me more would be a problem, due to the profit this place makes. In fact, perhaps I was dreaming of a huge pay rise.’
I grinned across the table at my boss, Izzy. I say ‘boss’—she’s become more like my best friend, in the two years I’ve been waitressing at Donuts & Daiquiris. I know—strange name, people usually think of that sugary snack as accompanying caffeinated drinks. I never know whether to tell people I work in a café or bar as it’s both. Come six o’clock, purple neon lights shoot across the room and tall glasses replace ceramic mugs.
Izzy loves neon. Adores bright colours and her appearance in the morning never fails to cheer me up. Imagine the shortest ash-blonde hair, accompanied by a slash of scarlet lipstick and clothes that look as if they’ve been dipped in a rainbow. Tie-dye is her favourite. What a contrast to brown-haired, less conspicuous me, who prefers muted, autumnal colours—ironic, considering I’m a very unmuted singer.
‘I offered you a salary hike only last month,’ she protested.
‘Charity, I don’t need,’ I said and Izzy blushed. ‘You can’t pay me more than the other staff.’
‘But you work the hardest,’ she said. ‘If only you weren’t so stubborn, Kate. I know things are tight for you at the moment.’
‘Nice jumpsuit,’ I said, rapidly changing the subject. I admired how her eyeshadow exactly matched the material’s shade of Dory blue. Yes, that was a