Little White Lies (Summer Reading Book 2), page 1
Little White Lies
A Novel
Ella King
Updated and revised 2nd Edition.
Copyright © Little Blue Books, 2021
The right of Ella King to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author. You must not circulate this book in any format.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Contents
Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
More From the Author
Note
This publication was produced and edited in the UK, where some spelling, grammar and word usage will vary from US English.
One
Chloe Fallon knew she should be concentrating on her driving, but she couldn’t help it. She just couldn’t look away.
There it was glistening attractively in the afternoon sunshine, newly polished and extraordinary, adorning the third finger of her left hand. Was there anything in the world more exhilarating than an engagement ring – your own engagement ring?
“So what do you think I should wear on Sunday?” her best friend asked. Lynne had been rabbiting down the phone about her latest shopping trip for the last twenty minutes.
Chloe loved a good natter as much as the next girl but she just wasn’t in the right frame of mind for discussing the merits of see-through strap bras as opposed to strapless – not today.
“Hey I have to hang up – there’s a patrol car ahead,” she mumbled, deciding she’d better pay attention to the road. And Lynne was boring the pants off her.
“Oh, OK.” Her friend sounded disappointed. “I suppose I’ll see you at Alison’s – you and Dan are going, yes?”
“Should be,” Chloe replied. “Talk to you later … and wish me luck!”
After they had said their goodbyes, she hung up and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat.
Of course she and Dan would be at the barbecue on Sunday. She had picked up a badass Rachel Zoe top to go with her cropped white jeans especially for the occasion, and she would be damned if she was going to miss the opportunity to show it (and her toned ass) off.
She shivered with excitement as she approached the dinky little town. It was a shame that Dan couldn’t come with her today, but he’d laughed when she suggested that he take the morning off to do this.
Typical…
She weaved through busy main street; she hadn’t expected the place to be so thronged. The popular tourist town – centred round a broad oxbow lake from which Lakeview took its name – was very charming certainly. And the reason for so many visitors clogging up the roads.
Attempting to negotiate a narrow stretch between cars parked on each side of the street, Chloe was horrified to find that, not only had she clipped the Rav4 wing mirror, but hers had actually shattered the mirror of an Astra parked on her right.
Yikes …
Heart pounding, she sped on. There was no one in the car and she didn’t think anyone had seen her, so if she could get away with it …
Anyway it was the driver’s fault for parking on double yellow lines, so what else did he expect? She was no rally driver and she was in a hurry. She could always pop back later and leave a note and her number on the windscreen or something. Maybe.
Dammit though, a broken mirror of all things. Seven years’ bad luck and all that. On a day like today, Chloe did not want to even think about the possibility.
Finally finding a space just off the main street near the recreational park by the lake, she removed her sunglasses and checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror, before applying a fresh coat of Mac ‘Siss’ lipstick.
Eventually pleased with what she saw, she got out and locked the jeep, but couldn’t help checking her reflection once more in the driver’s window.
Using her sunglasses to tuck her blonde bob behind her ears, she straightened her skirt and began walking purposefully down the street, smiling when a gang of teenagers loitering outside a café on the corner wolf-whistled as she passed them by.
Probably admiring her legs. Well, Chloe thought with a self-satisfied grin, they were worth admiring.
Minutes later she pushed open the door of Amazing Days and marched directly to the sales counter.
“Chloe Fallon for Debbie, please. I spoke with her on the telephone yesterday,” she announced without preamble.
The teenage sales assistant regarded her boredly.
“She’s in Ella’s,” she mumbled, without looking up from her magazine.
Hardly a great first impression.
“Ella’s?” Chloe repeated quizzically.
“Cafe next door,” the other girl replied as if Chloe should recognise what was obviously a local haunt. “On her lunch.”
“I’m sure you can help me then,” she continued impatiently. “I’m here to choose –”
“Hello there!” the aforementioned piped up from behind in the doorway, apparently back from her lunch break. Debbie smiled. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I didn’t think you’d be here until two.”
Chloe said nothing. According to her watch it was two p.m. Still, she supposed she’d better not be too uptight. “I’m just keen to get cracking,” she said with as much cordiality as she could muster, while secretly hoping the place didn’t apply this laissez-faire attitude to every aspect of their business.
“Well, I came up with a few options that should work. Come out back and I’ll show you.”
Chloe duly followed her towards the rear of the store.
“You said on the phone that a friend recommended us?”
“Alison Caffrey – well, she’s Alison Kelly now,” Chloe explained. “Everyone was raving about hers and when I began planning my wedding I asked her for your details.” It had absolutely killed her to ask stuck-up Alison for the Amazing Days Design info, but if she and Dan wanted the best she had to bite the bullet.
“Ah yes, Alison,” Debbie recalled. “She chose gold-inscribed linen, if I remember correctly. But you said you were looking for something a little less traditional?”
Something completely unlike Alison’s actually. Chloe couldn’t have people suggest that she was stealing her friend’s idea. Not in a million years. These had better be good, and hopefully the drive down here to the back of beyond wouldn’t be a complete waste of time.
“Take a look and see what you think,” Debbie urged pleasantly. “Using the details you gave me on the phone I put together a few personalised samples.”
Despite herself, Chloe gasped when she saw the assortment on the table.
“Wow, these are great,” she exclaimed, examining a white hammer-effect card with a cutesy flowerpot bride and groom graphic, tied with a scarlet ribbon – the colour of her bridesmaids’ dresses.
Pretty but perhaps a little tacky though – she had been hoping for something a bit classier. Then another caught her eye: this one plain white with an embossed silver stained-glass-effect border and matching silver hearts in the centre.
She opened the card and felt her own heart leap with pride, as there inscribed in silver foil were the words she had been waiting for:
Mr John & Mrs Rita Fallon,
Request the pleasure of the company of………………….
On the occasion of the marriage of their daughter
Chloe Maria,
to
Mr Daniel Ignatius Hunt
at St Anthony’s Church,
Donnybrook,
On Friday, September 25th
and afterwards at the reception in
The Four Seasons Hotel,
Ballsbridge, Dublin.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth.
She was getting married. She was really getting married. Chloe had been dreaming about her own wedding for most of her thirty years, yet she didn’t think that it had really hit her, not until then – not until she’d seen the words written down.
Of course she’d done all the other stuff – reserved the dress, ordered the flowers, booked the hotel – but the dress was still just a sketch, it wasn’t hers yet, and the flowers a ‘concept’ in the florist’s artistic little head.
But here now, she was holding in her hand tangible evidence of her forthcoming wedding and she didn’t think she had ever felt so emotional.
“Are you all right?” she heard Debbie ask kindly.
Chloe turned to her, blinking back tears.
“You know it’s lovely to see a reaction like yours,” the designer continued, when she didn’t respond. “I’ve always thought that the wedding invite should be chosen with as much thought as the dress. After all, the invites herald the entire event, don’t they? Your guests see those before they get to see the dress, the flowers and all the rest of it.”
“No, I’m just being silly,” Chloe brushed her off. She really shouldn’t have let Debbie see her react like that. Now she would probably charge them a fortune.
“It’s alright, pet,” the designer said kindly. “You don’t need to explain. Now do you fancy a cuppa while you finalise the one you want, or will I just leave you to it?”
“I think the design chose me,” Chloe said, unable to let go of the silver-embossed card she grasped in her hand.
“You’re sure? You don’t need to OK it with Himself or anything?”
What? How dare she undermine her relationship. As if Chloe would have to ‘OK’ it with anyone.
“No, it’s my decision and he’ll be happy to go along with it. Anyway,” she added dismissively, “you know what men are like.”
“I do indeed,” Debbie agreed, blithely unaware of her customer’s affronted feelings, “but you’d be surprised. I had a couple in here last weekend and your man was calling all the shots - wouldn’t let the poor girlfriend get a word in edgeways. I tell you, he was one of the fussiest divils I’ve ever come across, enquiring about the origins of the paper, and the environmental friendliness of the ink and all that palaver. And the same fella wearing a leather jacket? The misfortunate wife-to-be was mortified by the time they left.”
So unprofessional. In Chloe’s eyes, the customer was always right, and she wasn’t too impressed to hear Debbie gossiping merrily about one client to another.
Ideally she would have preferred to employ a stationery designer from Dublin, but nothing in the city had come close to Amazing Days.
Idle talk was obviously the price you had to pay for dealing with a company in the sticks.
She chuckled inwardly. Dan would murder her if she said something like that in front of him. Her fiancé had been born and bred in the country and was proud of it. Still, his culchie roots didn’t show and that was the main thing.
Not that Mr & Mrs Hunt were farmers or anything like that – nothing of the sort. Although semi-retired, Dan’s dad owned a construction company and Mrs Hunt had ‘supported him’ throughout his working years.
Something Chloe wouldn’t mind doing for Dan once they were married. She hated her job as legal secretary to one of her dad’s partners in his solicitor’s practice. Although she supposed there were some perks. Like taking time off on a Friday afternoon to choose wedding invites …
“Embossed Silver Hearts it is then,” Debbie declared, writing the details in her order book, which Chloe noted seemed to be full of clients. The company had really created a name for itself, and it wasn’t difficult to see why.
Would Amazing Days Design invites be two-a-penny by the time their wedding came around though, and would everyone poke fun at Chloe’s lack of originality?
“The wedding is when – September?” the other woman said, a pen in her mouth. “And you said you wanted matching place-cards and evening invites too?”
Chloe nodded.
“OK,” she said, studying the order book, “Should be good to go about the first week in June – how does that sound?”
“I’d prefer earlier, actually,” Chloe said. That weeks away – how long did it take to run off a few invites for goodness sake?
Debbie looked apologetic. “The card you’ve chosen is one of our newer designs this year so I’m waiting on stock, and of course I’ll need time to work on the inscriptions.”
“Right.” Well at least now she knew that her chosen design would be original.
“But I would always suggest that customers leave it as close as they can to the wedding itself before deciding on final particulars, just in case anything needs to be changed in the meantime.”
Chloe couldn’t help feeling affronted. “What would I need to change?”
Debbie spoke kindly. “I’m just speaking from experience, pet. You just never know. If someone is ill, or things don’t go according to plan, or perhaps the date needs changing –”
‘Pet’ my ass…“Look, can we have them sooner or not? Or maybe I’ll have to go elsewhere.”
Debbie looked taken aback. “Sure … I’ll do my best.”
“Fine. Give me a call when they’re ready for collection.”
With a curt goodbye, Chloe lowered her sunglasses and breezed out of the store – her sample invite clutched in her hand.
The stationery designer raised an eyebrow as the door shut behind her latest client with a flourish. A pure madam if ever she saw one.
And in this business, Debbie thought with a weary sigh, she had seen plenty.
Two
Nicola Peters finished getting dressed, tied her fair curls back in a messy knot, and sat patiently in her chair. It was a mild summer’s day but despite the warm temperatures she couldn’t help but shiver.
She heard a soft knock on the door. “You OK in there?”
“Sure, good to go, you can come back in,” she said smiling. She’d been seeing Jim Kelly for a while now, so there was little point in trying to preserve her modesty at this stage.
He came back into the room and took a seat beside her.
“Well, I’m pleased to advise that you’re in great shape.”
She beamed. “Really?”
“Yes. The back-pain and tiredness are probably just down to stress and long hours at the desk but – ”
“I had suspected as much,” she interrupted, nodding, “but I thought better get checked out – just to be sure.”
“Good call.” He glanced down at her medical chart. “Now the blood pressure’s dropped a little from your last reading – which is good news – though I still feel that you’d benefit from a lot more exercise.”
Nicola glanced down and grimaced. “Doc, you don’t have to tell me that. And at my age things can only get worse.”
“Will you listen to yourself?” he chuckled. “I only wish I was still in my thirties. But for your own sake, definitely try to do something about the extra few pounds. A bit of shopping, out with the dog around the lake a few times – anything to get the blood moving. Though no bungie-jumping or any of that craic if you can help it.”
