Love on the Rocks by Veronica Henry

Author:Veronica Henry [Henry, Veronica]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781409147084
Google: Wd2XAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00EVRJ0UE
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2014-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Lisa was used to the wiles of women. Hysteria, bitchiness, neuroses and jealousy had competed with each other for supremacy in the world she had, until recently, moved in, and in general she was immune to them. Promotion work inevitably invited comparison, but somehow Lisa always managed to smooth out any rivalries she came across on the circuit. She was too down to earth to get involved in petty arguments.

So Lisa was surprised to find that she had a deep-rooted dislike combined with an instinctive mistrust of Victoria. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was George’s wife. It was the way she carried herself, the look she had in her eye, the way she courted attention. Everything was considered; everything was done for effect, from the way she crossed her legs to the way she pushed her hair back from her eyes to the languid way she spoke, as if she could barely be bothered to communicate. Lisa was observant and she sensed that every one of Victoria’s moves was carefully planned and rehearsed. There was nothing spontaneous about her behaviour. Which, despite all George’s reassurances that he was immune, made Lisa very cautious indeed.

Besides which, she made Lisa feel very self-conscious about her own shortcomings. Lisa had never been neurotic about her weight, but next to Victoria she felt cumbersome rather than curvaceous. And every time she spoke she was conscious of her bumpkin accent. She felt certain she’d heard Victoria mock her, muttering ‘ooh-aar’ behind her back, though she couldn’t prove it. To top it all, Victoria’s achingly hip designer wardrobe made her feel a total frump.

Lisa wasn’t used to feeling insecure. She told herself to get a grip as she got out of bed a couple of days after Victoria’s arrival. Resisting the urge to shower, wash her hair and put on full make-up, she defiantly pulled on her scruffy old tracksuit to go down to the village for bread and croissants, tying her curls in a loose ponytail and plonking a baseball cap on top of her head. She wasn’t going to pretend for anyone.

Ten minutes later, as she pushed open the door to the bakery, the delicious scent of yeasty, warm bread enveloped her and her mouth watered. She joined the queue, scanned the counter anxiously and was relieved to see there was one almond croissant left: this had become her morning treat over the past week.

Then she watched in horror as the woman behind the counter picked up the object of her desire with a pair of tongs and slid it into a paper bag.

‘I’m sorry, love.’ She smiled sympathetically at Lisa as she handed it to the customer in front. ‘Last one. You should get me to put one aside for you. We only ever do half a dozen.’

‘Never mind,’ said Lisa bravely.

The man turned and Lisa found a pair of dark grey eyes looking into hers.

‘Never let it be said that I’ve deprived a girl of her breakfast.’ His voice was deep; from two paces away Lisa could feel it resonate through her body.

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