Читайте только на ЛитРес

Книгу нельзя скачать файлом, но можно читать в нашем приложении или онлайн на сайте.

Читать книгу: «Just The Way You Are»

Шрифт:

Dear Ava,

How do you start writing a letter to someone, six years after breaking their heart?

Ava is unlucky in love as well as in life. The new office bitch has landed the dating column Ava wanted, and she can’t remember the last time she had a second date. It’s a good thing she has best friends Max and Gwen to pick up the pieces.

Deep down, Ava knows the reason why one date never turns into two – she’s in love with someone else. Someone she’s never even met.

It all started six years ago, with a letter from a secret admirer, Mr Writer. He seemed to know her, really know her, and his words touched her soul. But then they suddenly stopped and Ava was heartbroken.

Now the letters have started again and Ava knows it could mean winning back the dating column at work. But this time she’s determined to unmask Mr Writer…and find out once and for all if he’s Mr Right or Mr Very Definitely Wrong!

Just the Way You Are

Lynsey James


Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Lynsey James 2015

Lynsey James 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 © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474033596

Version date: 2018-07-23

LYNSEY JAMES

I was born in Fife in 1991 and have been telling people how to spell my name ever since. I’m an incurable bookworm who loves nothing more than getting lost in a good story with memorable characters. I started writing when I was really young and credit my lovely Grandad – and possibly a bump on the head from a Mr Frosty machine – with my love of telling stories. I used to write my own episodes of Friends and act them out in front of my family (in fact I’m sure I put Ross and Rachel together first!)

A careers adviser at school once told me writing wasn’t a “good option” and for a few years, I believed her. I tried a little bit of everything, including make-up artistry, teaching and doing admin for a chocolate fountain company. The free chocolate was brilliant. When I left my job a couple of years ago, I started writing full-time while I looked for another one. As soon as I started working on my story, I fell in love and decided to finally pursue my dream. I haven’t looked back since.

When I’m not writing, eating cake or drinking tea, I’m daydreaming about the day Dylan O’Brien finally realises we’re meant to be together. It’ll happen one day…

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Dedication

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

Acknowledgements

Endpages

About the Publisher

I owe it all to Maz (aka Mum).

Chapter 1

I’ve hated weddings for as long as I can remember.

Everything about them sets my teeth on edge: the meringue-like wedding dresses, the cheesy first dance, the dreaded walk down the aisle and especially the quiet notion that the marriage will be over in a few months’ time. At those weddings, it can feel like all the fuss is for nothing, given that the happy couple will soon be battling it out in divorce court to see who keeps the cat.

So as you can imagine, I was less than thrilled to find myself as a bridesmaid at my mum’s seventh – yes, seventh wedding.

As the organ began to play the all-too-familiar bridal march, I walked down the aisle, clutching my bouquet of lilies so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I tried to keep my gaze on where I was heading, but couldn’t resist throwing sideways glances at the guests gathered in St Mark’s Church. Everyone on my mum’s side of the room gazed at me with a nostalgic fondness that misted their eyes and made them whisper shared stories with each other. On Boring Brian’s side, however, I was regarded with a silent suspicion. They’d made no secret about the fact they hated their beloved son’s choice of bride. It wasn’t her multiple marriages that bothered them though, it was me. I’d overheard his mum and dad talking about it at the engagement party.

‘She could’ve been married as many times as Zsa Zsa bloody Gabor for all I care; I don’t want our Brian having to bring up another man’s kid!’ his mum Rosemary had sniped.

At the time, I’d wanted to point out that at twenty-six, I didn’t need “bringing up”, least of all from Boring Brian, but I’d left it. No matter what my opinion of him and his awful family was, he seemed to make Mum happy. God knew she deserved it, after some of the things she’d been through.

I dragged my thoughts back to the present moment; namely so I could concentrate on not tripping over my teal bridesmaid’s dress. Mum would never forgive me if I ruined her big moment. The weight of everyone’s stares began to freak me out and I thought about sprinting the rest of the way to the altar. If there was one thing I hated, it was being the centre of attention.

Luckily, as I approached the end of my journey, I saw two familiar and very welcome faces: my best friends Max and Gwen. They’d both craned their necks to see me walk down the aisle and were both grinning like Cheshire cats. I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached the altar: I could never have got through today without them. When I took my place, I caught Max’s eye and he winked at me.

After the rest of the bridesmaids and the flower girls and pageboy had all walked in, everybody stood up and turned their attention to the back of the church. My mum was about to make her grand entrance. She appeared at the church doors and I couldn’t help but smile; she looked absolutely beautiful. Her ivory dress was made of satin, not at all meringue-like and elegant in an understated way. Yep, I thought, this was my favourite out of all her wedding dresses. Her face was perfectly composed as she floated down the aisle, despite looks of disapproval from her soon-to-be mother-in-law.

‘At least she didn’t have the nerve to wear white,’ I heard her mutter to her husband Brian Senior.

The muscles in my jaw clenched as I fought the urge to say something. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be part of their family, but at least I had the decency to keep my mouth shut about it.

Mum reached the altar and a bright, beaming smile swept across her face when she saw Boring Brian. His round face was beetroot red with excitement and I could see the joy in his tiny blue eyes despite his glasses being steamed up. All in all, he reminded me of a Percy Pig sweet.

They faced each other at the altar and the minister motioned for the congregation to sit down.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Theresa Kathleen Clements and Brian Harold Ford…’

The ceremony went without a hitch. Nobody burst through the church doors, begging Mum not to go through with it (that had happened at wedding number four though; the guy ended up being husband number five). After the happy couple said “I do”, we all went to a local hotel for the reception. While my mum and Brian were being congratulated by hordes of guests, I sloped off to join my two best friends for a much-needed drink.

‘Vodka and lemonade, no ice,’ Max said when I got to the bar. He held the glass out for me to take.

‘You’re a lifesaver!’ I took it from him and gulped it down in one go.

‘Easy tiger, they’ve not even had their first dance yet!’ Gwen motioned to the unbelievably hot bartender for another drink.

‘If I never go to another wedding, it’ll be too soon!’ I heaved a sigh and slipped off the horribly uncomfortable white court shoes I’d been wearing all day. The leather had made my feet swell up and my heels had rubbed against the back, so I had two beautiful blisters. Thanks Mum.

‘You’re a bit of an expert at these, aren’t you Munchkin?’ Max slung an arm round my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug.

‘That’s an understatement! I’m sure I must be half wedding cake by now.’

Gwen handed me another drink, like a best friend should. ‘So Boring Brian’s your stepdad now. How are you feeling about that?’

I shrugged and pulled a noncommittal face. Try as I might, I just couldn’t summon up any strong emotions towards Boring Brian. His mum made my blood boil, but he was the very definition of ‘meh’.

‘As long as my mum’s happy, I’m not too bothered either way,’ I replied. ‘His main hobbies are flying toy airplanes and building model railways, so he won’t be out pulling women at the pub any time soon!’

‘Never mind Brian; we need to get you out to do some pulling!’ said Gwen. She linked her arm with mine and scanned the room. ‘See anyone you fancy? Hunky best man or a cute usher maybe? I like that blond one over there with the grey waistcoat.’

I laughed. ‘The best man’s fifty-four years old and all the ushers are from Brian’s side of the family, so they have the personalities of sports socks.’

Gwen was determined not to give up. ‘OK, so what about guests then? Surely there’s got to be blokes here you’re not related to or who take after Boring Brian!’

‘Leave it eh? I’m not going on a pulling mission at my own mother’s wedding.’

She sighed and her shoulders slouched with disappointment. ‘Suit yourself babe, but you’ve been single forever. You need to get back out there before you end up alone with ten cats.’

My insides bristled, though I tried not to show it. I knew she had good intentions but my romantic life was a sensitive topic, as she knew full well.

‘Not with half my team at the restaurant interested in her, she won’t! Whenever she comes in, a fight breaks out over who’ll make her pear crumble.’ Max winked and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

I felt my face flush with pleasure. I knew he was probably lying, but I appreciated the gesture.

Before I could thank him, DJ Maurice’s voice boomed out across the reception hall, telling everyone it was time for Mr and Mrs Ford’s first dance as husband and wife. Gwen made a beeline for Grey Waistcoat Guy and I took it as my cue to slope off. It was never easy being single at a wedding; having chronically bad luck with men just made it worse.

As I made for the exit, Max grabbed my hand.

‘Oh no you don’t Munchkin. I seem to remember when we were at your mum’s last wedding, you promised me a dance at the next one. This is the next one, so I’m holding you to it.’

‘Max, you know I can’t dance. Why don’t you go and dance with one of the bridesmaids or something?’

He smiled. ‘You are one of the bridesmaids.’

A look into his deep brown eyes and I knew I couldn’t say no. Reluctantly, I let him lead me onto the dance floor as Make You Feel My Love by Adele began to play. He put his hands on my waist, I wrapped my arms round his neck and we gently swayed to the music. As Adele said she would hold someone for a million years, I stepped on Max’s foot.

‘Sorry, I’m like a bloody elephant on the dance floor!’ I dropped my gaze down to my clumsy feet as I felt my cheeks flush furiously.

‘You’re doing great! I can’t feel my toes but I’m still having a good time.’

I looked up and saw a warm smile sweep across his face.

‘Listen,’ he continued. ‘I saw your face when Gwen started going on about your love life. She means well, you know, she just wants you to be happy.’

I nodded and let out a deep breath. ‘I am happy though. I’ve got great mates, a cool flat and if I’m lucky, I’ll land my dream job tomorrow.’

‘Ah so tomorrow’s the big day, is it?’

‘Sure is. I’ve got my mood-board ready and prepared my pitch; all I need to do now is not vomit while I’m delivering it!’

Max took my hand, twirled me outwards then brought me back into him.

‘I know public speaking isn’t your favourite thing in the world Ava, but you’ll be fine. In fact, no – you’ll bloody ace it because that’s what you do.’

‘Cheers. Fancy meeting me and Gwen at The Dog and Duck tomorrow? You’ll either be helping me celebrate or drown my sorrows.’

He pretended to think for a minute then nodded. ‘How can I say no to that? Oh, do you mind if I bring Amira?’

My jaw clenched tightly. I wanted to say yes, as a matter of fact I do mind if you bring her. She might be a stunningly beautiful lingerie model, but she has the personality of a cabbage and is a right nasty bitch at times. I had no idea how she’d managed to capture my best friend’s heart three months ago: I suspected witchcraft of some kind.

However, I said ‘Why not? The more the merrier!’

Max grinned broadly and embraced me as the song ended. ‘You’re a star, Munchkin!’

Just then, a voice from the front of the room burst through the temporary silence.

‘Well, well, well, isn’t this cosy?’

I turned my head and saw that Amira had just glided into the reception hall, clad in a gold silk gown that accentuated her natural curves. Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders and her caramel skin looked fresh and dewy.

Max dropped me like a hot potato and went over to her, like she was drawing him in with some kind of magnetic field.

‘You look amazing…’ The rest of what he said was lost as she pulled him close for a passionate kiss.

I took this as my cue to leave and went off in search of three things: Gwen, vodka and a way out of the reception.

By the end of the night, I’d found two out of three – which, as Meat Loaf said, ain’t bad. I’d located Gwen after she’d scurried out of the cloakroom with Grey Waistcoat Guy, and the nice guy at the bar had kept me supplied with vodka and lemonades. Yet as I sat on the couch while my best friend snogged the face off Grey Waistcoat Guy, I felt that something was definitely missing. There was an ache somewhere deep inside me and I wasn’t sure how to heal it. I was asked to dance by no less than five men, including Max when Amira went to powder her nose, but I turned them all down.

None of them were him and he was all I wanted, all I’d ever want.

Sadly, he remained frustratingly out of reach.

Chapter 2

The day my life changed forever didn’t start in the way I expected.

There was no fanfare heralding the new chapter of my life that was about to begin or a gospel choir belting out Oh Happy Day at the top of their lungs. There wasn’t even a heavenly voiceover appearing out of the blue to say ‘Ava Clements, this is the day you’ve been waiting for. Here’s where your adventure finally kicks off.

Instead, it started with the clatter of a letterbox.

Completely unaware of the events about to unfold, I picked up the three white envelopes sitting on my flower-shaped doormat and took them through to the kitchen. I flicked through each one in turn: gas bill, phone bill and…

Hello, what’s this?

A handwritten envelope addressed to me.

That was strange; I didn’t get mail from anybody except my broadband provider or companies who wanted to offer me a credit card.

Unless…

No, no, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t know where to find me now and it had been such a long time.

A shiver of tantalising familiarity worked its way down my spine, but I pushed the burgeoning thoughts to the back of my mind. My heart rate quickened as I prepared to open it.

‘I’ve got news!’

Gwen’s voice cut across my thoughts and broke my concentration. I stuffed the envelope in my bag, resolving to open it later.

‘Let me guess; you’ve finally received your Hogwarts letter,’ I replied.

‘Nope, that’s still not turned up,’ she replied with a wistful sigh. ‘I reckon it got lost in the post or something. Anyway, do you want to hear my news?’

I nodded and turned my attentions back to the mysterious letter in my bag. The thoughts gathering in my head were completely ludicrous, I knew, but all the same…

She eyed me suspiciously. ‘You’re hiding something.’

I made a big show of scoffing and spluttering, hoping to sell my fake reaction of shock to her. Luckily, it seemed to work because she changed the subject almost right away.

‘I got you a date.’

In an instant, I felt all the colour drain from my face.

Shit, shit, shit.

‘Gwen, we talked about this after what happened last time…’

‘Look, I know Gary wasn’t exactly Prince Charming but–’

I let out a loud snort. ‘I think you’re forgetting just how bad he was! Not only did he whistle every time he said a word with s in it, he spent most of the evening looking at my breasts and asking what sort of things I liked to do in bed!’

Gwen’s cheeks pinked up. ‘Not my finest hour, I must admit, but this could be my chance to make it up to you. Trust me on this, Greg’s a complete hottie and he’s a sweet guy as well. I met him at an industry party and every woman’s eyes were on him. Not surprising really, considering he’s a male model. Will you go out with him? If you hate him, I promise you never have to do anything for me ever again.’

She stuck her bottom lip out and widened her eyes, like a child who wanted their mum to buy them the biggest toy in the shop. I felt my defences weakening. Surely one more date wouldn’t be so bad?

‘All right then, but if he’s a complete twonk, misogynist, emotionally stunted or a creep then your Cilla Black days are over!’

Gwen clapped her hands gleefully and jumped up and down on the spot. ‘This is why you’re my best friend! I’ll set something up for today if that’s cool?’

I swallowed down the doubts and reservations and gave a weary nod.

She skipped off in the direction of her bedroom, then stopped and turned to look at me. ‘By the way, you look really smart today.’ Slowly, drip by drip, she realised. ‘Oh that’s right, today’s the big day isn’t it?’

A broad smile swept across my face.

‘It certainly is!’ I struck a catwalk pose and pouted. ‘Do I look like Sleek Magazine’s Next Top Dating Columnist?’

Saying the words out loud made my stomach do somersaults. I’d grown to love running the dating column over the last three months and had loads of ideas to make it my own. More than anything I wanted to run it permanently and make it a real prominent feature of the magazine. All I needed was a chance. The only thing standing in my way was Maddie McQueen, my arch-enemy since university and general poisonous bitch. My heart rate soared and goose bumps rose on my arms. I felt excited and utterly terrified in equal measure.

‘Good luck babe, you’ll smash it.’ Gwen gave me a hug and I left before she could offer me some charred remains calling itself toast.

The letter was still burning a hole at the bottom of my bag when I got to work. I was ten minutes late thanks to some road works and an old dear who couldn’t use a zebra crossing.

After sprinting up the steps like a woman possessed and digging out my mood-board, I finally relaxed. My shoulders slumped into the back of my chair and I let my head tilt back. There was so much riding on today; it all came down to a single pitch that could go one of two ways. If it was a complete disaster, then I’d lose my dream job and be promptly punted to the horoscope section.

The scent of coffee wafted around me. That could only mean one thing: Fran was in the building. I opened my eyes and there she was. Her tall, lithe frame towered above me and she was carrying two paper cups of steaming hot coffee.

‘Thought you could use this,’ she said.

Originally from London, Fran’s voice had a sultry raspy quality that I could only dream of imitating. Whenever I tried, I ended up sounding like I had a sore throat.

‘This is why I love you.’ I sat up and took a cup, throwing her a grateful smile.

‘So today’s D Day, is it? Your big pitch with Miranda and Paddy.’

My blood froze at the mention of Miranda’s name. She was Sleek magazine’s answer to Jaws.

‘Yep, here’s my mood-board.’ I lifted it up and passed it to Fran for her appraisal. ‘Oh, not only that; I’ve got a bloody blind date this afternoon!’

‘And just what is that?’

My shoulders slumped at the sound of the voice behind me. I recognised it instantly: Maddie bloody McQueen.

‘It’s a cheese sandwich, Maddie,’ I said, spinning my chair around to face her.

She narrowed her little eyes at me, making herself look even more pinched and gaunt than she usually did.

‘Very funny. If that’s what you’re presenting to Miranda and Paddy, then I’m even more confident with my pitch. I delivered it to them a few minutes ago and let’s just say they were pretty impressed. They were going to hear yours first but you had timing issues, didn’t you?’

My stomach did a belly flop to my shoes. Everyone knew Maddie had the gift of the gab and I could imagine her blowing our bosses away with a killer pitch.

‘You can still try if you want to Ava, it’ll just be pointless. Ciao for now.’ She breezed off back to her desk and threw a smug little smirk over her shoulder to me.

I looked down at my mood-board and heaved a sad sigh.

‘Don’t let her get to you,’ Fran advised. ‘You’ve worked so hard on this pitch, you’re gonna ace it. And what’s this I hear about a blind date?! Spill, Clements.’

‘It’s this guy Gwen met at one of her fashion parties; his name’s Greg and he’s a male model. According to Gwen, he’s a hottie and a sweet guy rolled into one; after her last attempt at setting me up, I’m a bit sceptical to say the least!’

‘That guy who made the whistling noise? I didn’t like the sound of him at all. Look, this guy might look like Ashton Kutcher during his hot phase; you won’t know unless you go. Just think, today could be the day you land your dream job and the love of your life,’ Fran pointed out.

I wanted to believe her – really I did – but when one editor made Voldemort look kind-hearted and the other was about as fierce as Winnie the Pooh, the odds were pretty stacked against me. As for my blind date, Gwen’s taste in men was dubious at best, so this Greg guy wasn’t likely to be my soulmate.

The familiar tug of desire to rip the letter open and devour its contents resurfaced again but I batted it away. I wasn’t quite ready for the storm of emotions reading it would unleash.

It wasn’t long before the witching hour came. At midday, Miranda came oozing out of her office and approached my desk.

‘Ava, could you come with me please?’

I gulped and grabbed my mood-board. I flashed a terrified expression to Fran, who just made a “rock-on” sign with her fingers and turned back to her computer.

That was it. I was on my own. I followed Miranda to her office like an innocent fly wandering into a spider’s lair. The door shut with a finality I wasn’t altogether comfortable with.

Miranda took a seat in her large black executive chair. She crossed one leg over the other and her lips curved into a sly smirk. To her right sat Paddy, who looked typically clueless and unaware of the undertones behind his colleague’s supposedly sweet smile.

‘Hello there Maria, I didn’t know you were applying for this!’ he said in his jovial Scottish lilt.

‘I-It’s Ava, Paddy…’

‘So, Ava,’ Miranda said as she made a little pyramid with her fingers and rested her chin on in. ‘why don’t you take us through your lovely mood-board?’

My heart began to pound in my ears and my breath became short. I held my board in front of my chest so they could see it, my hands trembling terribly. The slick, polished speech I’d prepared had vanished from my mind. Shit, shit, shit. Why did this have to happen now?

‘We’re waiting.’ Miranda’s voice was terse and she looked at me with a malicious glee, as though she enjoyed watching me fail.

‘Oh y-yeah, sorry…’

I caught sight of Paddy’s shoulders slouching and his gaze travelling to the far corner of the room. Come on Ava, pull it together.

‘I-I…um…I-I…’

A cold sweat washed over me and I began to tremble with abject fear. An unwelcome but familiar burning feeling rose in my throat and I knew exactly what was going to happen next.

‘Would you excuse me for a minute?’ I asked.

Neither of them looked impressed but I was past caring at this point. I looked for the nearest escape route but knew my sickness wouldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed a wastepaper bin by the door and was violently sick in it.

I knew as I walked out of the room that the job wasn’t mine.

I took some time out to sit in the ladies’ toilets and cry. Today was supposed to be the day I landed the job of my dreams and instead I’d thrown up in front of the people who would either make my career or break it. I’d probably end up being stuck doing the wordsearches or the horoscopes: they were areas where only the worst staff were sent.

I went into my handbag to get my make-up and my fingers closed in around the letter. Given that I was already an emotional wreck, I figured that adding to it probably wouldn’t do any harm.

I was just about to open it when Fran came in.

‘Dare I ask how the pitch went?’ she asked, taking in my tear-stained face.

I let out a hollow chuckle. ‘Well I went in there, couldn’t say anything about what I wanted to do for the column and threw up in the rubbish bin.’

She clapped her hands to her mouth, presumably to hide the trademark Cheshire cat grin working its way onto her face.

‘Only you Ava, only bloody you!’ She pulled me close for a hug. ‘You’re a one-off, you know that?’

When she pulled away, she caught sight of the envelope in my hand. ‘What’s that?’

‘If I’m right, it’s a letter from someone I thought had forgotten about me a helluva long time ago,’ I answered.

‘Open it!’ Fran’s eyes widened with curiosity and she eyed me expectantly like a kid waiting to receive their birthday presents.

Hands trembling, I tore open the envelope and unfurled the paper. For a very long minute, I couldn’t look at it and viewed it instead through half-closed eyes.

‘Come on, I can’t take this any more!’

I took in a deep lungful of air and prepared myself to look at what was written on the page. Every fibre of me told me not to, that I should put this Pandora’s Box of words back in my bag and forget about it. However, Fran’s expectant stare and the niggling questions at the back of my mind made me look. When I did, my breath caught in my throat. In front of me was the most beautiful love letter I’d ever read.

Dear Ava,

How do you start writing a letter to someone, six years after breaking their heart?

It may seem strange that I’m writing to you again after so long, but I can’t ignore how I feel any more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last six years, it’s that life’s too short not to go after what you want. And Ava, all I want is you.

Since that day I was supposed to meet you in Heaton Park, I’ve kicked myself for being such a coward. Seeing how upset you were afterwards killed me. Every fibre of me pulled me towards you that day but my stupid self-doubt stopped me. I was scared of not being enough, of disappointing you. Little did I know that by convincing myself to stay out of the picture, I ended up doing the very thing I was trying to avoid. Words can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you; I hope you can forgive me.

After trying to convince myself to forget you and telling myself to move on, I’m still totally and completely in love with you. Spending the best part of a decade thinking about what we could’ve had together has been torturous. It could’ve been me holding you tight or kissing you or showing you how special you are. Now, it’s finally time for me to do something about it. I know you could have built a whole life with someone else, but I’ll regret it forever if I don’t at least try. I’ll let you know who I am soon: for now just enjoy the magic of the letters. If anyone deserves a fairy tale, it’s you. Keep smiling, beautiful.

Love always,

?

A stray sob escaped from my throat; it was a happy sob, full of joy at what I’d just read and the chain of events it could potentially set in motion.

Бесплатный фрагмент закончился.

399
573,80 ₽
Возрастное ограничение:
0+
Объем:
313 стр. 6 иллюстраций
ISBN:
9781474033596
Издатель:
Правообладатель:
HarperCollins

С этой книгой читают

Новинка
Черновик
4,9
177