SUMMER LOVING
By
Rivka Spicer
Copyright © 2012 Rivka Spicer
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author. Exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.
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Other books by this author:
Masquerade Series
Masquerade
Carnevale (coming soon)
Obsession (est. 2013)
Stand alone novels
The Broken Souls
Summer Loving
Novellas
Beautiful of Heart
Acknowledgements:
Thanks, as always, to my friends for escorting me on many trips in search of waffles and ice cream when things have been getting on top of me. I owe you. Cafe at lunchtime?
To Chrissie Manby (author extraordinaire) who read a partially finished version of this manuscript and not only encouraged me to finish it, but helped me with my writers block. If you haven’t read her books, go and buy them. They’re awesome and will crease you into stitches like the laundry of someone loving life too much to waste it folding clothes.
To my mum and brother who taught me how to cook and gave me an appreciation for the more unusual flavour combinations in life. Chocolate and beetroot anyone?
To the countless men out there on dating sites who inspired me to write this book – I salute you and I sincerely hope you find love.
Last, but most certainly not least, to my readers. Every time I get a wonderful email from one of you I have a goofy grin affixed to my lips for the rest of the day. If ever I had cause to doubt why I write, that right there is my answer.
For my dad,
Who inspired in me such a love of books
that even when I am lonely
I never have to be alone.
R xxx
Prologue
March Week 2
By Elise Waterford
A couple of days ago a rapper asked me to write him a haiku. Well, he put it on Twitter and I took up the challenge. I was on my own, I was bored...you get the picture. It was both challenging and, surprisingly, fun. Haiku is probably the most pointlessly addictive pastime after Sudoku. Those Japanese sure know how to reel people into procrastination!
So after sending my little ditty off to said rapper I found myself jotting down more lines. The first one I came out with was this:
Bleak and hollow I
Desolate in loneliness
Thus my heart...silence
I mean that right there is some depressing stuff, right? I read it back and, while I thought that poetically it was beautiful, I think I really need to get a grip on myself; bend the laws of physics to boot myself up the ass. I’m too old for all the emo stuff. If I’m feeling that low then I should do something about it.
So I figured I’m just lonely. I’m a woman. I’ve got needs and a biological clock that’s ticking so damn loudly I can barely hear myself think. I’m hardly going to meet the man of my dreams in this backwater town in the frozen tundras of the north, so the next logical thing is to sign up to a dating site. After all, it’s worked for so many people I know!
I get myself online and look up a site I know caters to the north of Scotland. I flick through the first page and by the end of it I’m feeling a thousand times better about myself. Not because I think this is the answer, but because if that is the standard of singles out there then there’s hope for me yet to find a man before I have to go online! I’m not unattractive – I’m slim and my hair is a nice glossy shade of brown. I guess my eyes are quite nice too. At first I thought I was being unfair but on a second (and then third) reading they were still as awful as I thought they were and those were the ones that weren’t so illiterate I could barely make out what they were saying.
A few examples...
Hi, my name is ......... and I’m one of those nice guys you’re always reading about.... (Excuse me while I go throw up.)
Hi, my name is .......... I’m a caring guy and I don’t like football. (Seriously?? That’s the second thing you say to a prospective partner???)
But my personal favourite:
Hi, my name is .......... and I have a son but he doesn’t live with me.
Really? Really??? Totally aside from the fact that most women would read that and think ‘oh great, you knocked some woman up and then left her. Classy guy...classy’, I don’t know what’s worse – the fact that this is the one defining feature about him or the fact that he actually wrote that this was the one defining feature about him.
My disbelief gave way to amusement and then to a weird maternal instinct to want to gather these men up and explain to them how to do it properly. I’m sure there must be a call for coaching in this department. Kind of like Hitch at an early intervention stage. I could be that woman. How hard can it be? We all know the obvious – if a woman describes herself as bubbly you know she’s chubby. It’s par for the course.
So I thought I’d practice what I’d say if I was writing a blurb about me. What is my defining feature? Straight off I’d have to say it’s my creativity. I guess I’d start with something along the lines of “Hi, my name is Elise. I’d like to think I’m a weaver of words and when I’m not at my day job you can find me doing one of my many hobbies. I am a columnist and a novelist. I love to dance, play my guitar and I’m also a good cook.”
See, right there are several different topics of conversation to broach. They make me an interesting person I think. Those four sentences tell you what’s most important to me at the same time as letting on that I lead a full and slightly off the wall life. I also hope the fact that everything has the correct spelling and(mostly correct) grammar will deter anyone intimidated by an articulate woman.
Of course, I might come across as a total nerd who has nothing better to do than sit home alone writing stuff but that’s a risk I’ll take if it has the benefit of finding me someone with similar interests.
There’s always then the risk of finishing the blurb with something that will scare prospective partners away. I could have the best opening in the world and still not get a single bite from the fishpond of life if I finished it with “I’m desperate to get married and have 7 babies” or “I don’t want you in my life but since you come attached to your tool and I want some of that it’s not like I get a choice...”.
Of course I would NEVER say such things. I am a lady after all...It’s one of those occasions when simple, classic elegance wins the day. I’m looking for fun that might blossom into something more.
Chapter 1
The phone rang and Elise jerked awake suddenly. Blearily she checked the number but it wasn’t in her contacts so she silenced it and chucked it back on the bedside table, ready to return to sleep. Honestly, who called at this time of the morning? People shouldn’t be allowed to use any form of communication before at least 8am.
Five minutes later it rang again, the same number. Annoyed, Elise silenced it again and tried to go back to the dream she had been having before being so rudely interrupted. It wasn’t until the third time it rang that she finally wondered if it was some sort of emergency. Perhaps one of her parents was sick or her friend Fern needed help.
“Hello?” She mumbled sleepily, not even lifting her head from the pillow.
“Ms Waterford?” The woman at the other en
d sounded ridiculously perky, clearly a product of expensive caffeine, and Elise sighed.
“Yeah. Speaking.”
“Ms Waterford, my name is Nikki. I’m calling from the offices of Monochrome Magazine.”
“Seriously?” Elise squinted at the clock with one eye. “You’re at work at twenty past six in the morning? Girl, I hope they pay you well.”
There was an awkward silence as though Nikki wasn’t sure whether to be confused or amused and then she continued in the same singsong voice. “Ms Waterford, am I right in thinking you are currently at home in Scotland?”
“Yeah, I’m at home. Why? Where else would I be at this ungodly hour of the morning?” Uhuh, because that didn’t make her sound like someone sworn to celibacy...This conversation was getting weirder by the second.
“Excellent. One of our editors is visiting Scotland at the moment and he spotted your column in the local courier. He was impressed with your writing style and would like to arrange a meeting to discuss a proposal with you.”
“A proposal?” It was too early to talk business, surely? Elise finally sat up, trying to clear her thoughts a little. “What sort of proposal?”
“Business.” Nikki left out the ‘obviously’ but it was hinted at. “We understand you are a freelance writer. He has some work he would like to discuss with you.”
The enormity of the conversation was starting to sink in. “For Monochrome?” It was the magazine with the largest circulation in Europe. Part fashion, part gossip, part gritty and hard hitting journalism, it was a little of something for everyone. Getting a job as a writer for Monochrome was the Holy Grail for journalists and columnists alike.
“In part. It’s really up to Mr Stone to explain the details to you. I’m his secretary. When would you be free to meet with him?”
“Where is he?” Most English people have no idea how big Scotland is so Elise was pleasantly surprised when Nikki said this Mr Stone was skiing in Aviemore. That was only just over two hours away. “I’ve got stuff planned for today but I can get there around lunchtime tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” Elise could hear the clacking of a keyboard in the background. “I’ll organise a room for you at the chalet. He said to pass on that the snow is still quite deep and current temperatures are below freezing so he advises you to pack warmly.”
“Pack?” It was fast becoming the most surreal conversation Elise had ever had. “How long is this interview? I thought I was just going for a couple of hours.”
“He needs to spend some time with you to decide if the idea will work.” She explained as though that was adequate. “It won’t be more than 3 days as he’s due back here for a meeting on Monday.”
“Right.” Elise didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I’ll pack a bag then.”
She passed on her email address for Nikki to send her directions and details and then hung up, staring at the phone in her hand in disbelief. Short of a rainfall of spatulas the day just couldn’t get any weirder.
Elise arrived in Aviemore just after midday the following day and followed the directions she had printed out through the pretty little village and into the chalets. When she thought she’d arrived she peered out of the window and decided there must have been some mistake. The building was gorgeous. The ground floor was stone built with a wrap-around porch on 2 sides and upstairs there was a balcony all around the outside of an oak upper floor with huge windows that spilled out golden light onto the drifting snow. It was huge and it looked like it belonged on a Christmas card. It had to be the wrong place.
She looked at the directions again, wondering where she had gone wrong, and then someone tapped on her window. It was so unexpected she startled and bashed her wrist on the steering wheel.
“Fuck! Ow!” Cradling it ruefully she looked out the window at a guy who might as well have just stepped off the skiing edition of GQ magazine. He was ruggedly handsome and she didn’t need to see a price tag to know his clothes cost more than what she earned in a year. From his artfully tousled blond hair to his striking blue eyes he was every inch the kind of guy that would stay in a chalet like this. And she had just sworn at him. Loudly. Damn it. “I’m sorry.” She blurted out, rolling down the window. “I’m lost and I was looking at the directions and I didn’t see you sneaking up on me. Not that you sneaked up on me. I just didn’t see you. Sorry.” She snapped her mouth shut before she said anything else idiotic. He just grinned at her, revealing unsurprisingly perfect white teeth. Elise silently vowed never to open her mouth again.
“Where were you aiming for?” His voice wasn’t particularly deep but it was melodious. Mutely, Elise handed over her print-out and he scanned it quickly before breaking out in a chuckle. “No, you’re definitely in the right place Ms Waterford. I’m Taylor Stone.”
“Oh.” Elise blinked and inwardly cursed again for swearing in front of him. “Wow, sorry. Nice to meet you.” Awkwardly she stuck her hand out the window to shake his and he laughed.
“You too. Did you bring much luggage?”
“Uh, no.” He backed up so she could open the door and she climbed out. “Just one bag and my guitar.”
“You brought your guitar? Excellent!” He seemed genuinely pleased but Elise still felt about an inch tall. If she’d known he was going to be this handsome she would have totally packed different clothes and left her guitar at home but now that it was here she couldn’t leave it in the car because the cold would damage it. As though sensing her discomfort he smiled again. “When I read in your column that you played I had hoped you would bring it. Mine is in my room – it’s been a while since I had anyone to jam with.”
Despite herself Elise was astonished. “You play too?”
“I know.” He shrugged good-naturedly as he hauled her overnight bag out of the boot. “I don’t look the type to play the guitar but I learned at school when it was the cool thing to do and now it’s what I do to relax. Come on in.”
He waited for her to pull her guitar case out and then led her up the steps and into the house. Warmth enveloped them like a blanket and once they had put her things by the stairs he took her coat and hung it by the door.
“May I call you Elise?” He asked and she nodded.
“Of course.”
“Excellent. And you must call me Taylor, none of this Mr Stone nonsense. Makes me feel like my dad. Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had lunch?”
“No I haven’t eaten. It was only 10 when I left.”
“Excellent. Well the girls have laid something out for us to eat so I’ll put the kettle on and take you on a tour of the house.”
“The girls?” Elise asked, following him through to the kitchen. “Are there other people staying?”
He looked at her, amused. “No, I meant the chalet girls. There are two of them. They keep the place clean and feed me on a regular basis so I don’t waste away in between all my skiing.”
“Oh. That’s good. Perfect holiday then.” Elise smiled, feeling like she’d landed on another planet but her host seemed so nice and he chuckled gently.
“Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing not having to do anything except enjoy myself.”
“And conduct job interviews...” She reminded him and he shrugged.
“That could be enjoyable.” He grinned. “It’s less a job interview and more a question of my getting your measure as a person but we’ll talk about that over lunch.” He flicked the switch on the kettle and then took her on a tour of the chalet. It looked huge on the outside but there weren’t that many rooms, although the rooms in themselves were all large. Elise’s bedroom was about six times the size of her room at home, if you counted the dressing area and en-suite bathroom with a tub big enough for a rugby team. Everything was beautifully but expensively furnished in warm cream and biscuit tones and Elise tried not to gape too much at the luxuries.
By the time they returned to the kitchen the kettle was boiled and Taylor made up a cafetiere of coffee while Elise gazed out of the window.
“Have you been here before?” Taylor asked and Elise shook her head.
“No. I’ve never been skiing. I’ve driven past plenty of times on the way down south to visit family but I’ve never actually stopped at Aviemore. It’s pretty isn’t it?”
“Yes it is.” He fitted the lid to the cafetiere. “I try and come up here at least once every winter, twice if I can get the time off. We’ll go skiing tomorrow. So why Scotland? Your accent says you’re not from these parts and your family live down south. Why did you move to the middle of nowhere?”
“I just fancied a change.” Elise shrugged. “I was young and on my own. I had a little money from publishing my first book so I thought I’d use it to buy my first home and this was the only area I could afford to buy. It seemed like a great adventure at the time.”
“And now?”
“Now?” She shrugged. “Moving up here was the best thing I ever did. I love it. I love my home and my friends and I love the peace and quiet but lately I’ve really been missing civilisation. I miss being twenty minutes from a cinema and being able to go to evening classes. I miss proper clubs and going to the theatre. It’s quite easy up here to get sucked into being a hermit.” She helped him carry the food through to a small dining area with a window that looked out across the hills.
“I have all those things living in London but I find it too much to take all the time. That’s why I come away up here or other quiet places when I can.” Taylor admitted easily, handing her a plate. “Tuck in.”
Summer Loving Page 1
