Jenny Oliver - One Summer Night At The Ritz

Gorgeously glamorous and unforgettably romantic, One Summer Night at the Ritz is the fairy-tale perfect fourth story in Jenny Oliver’s ‘Cherry Pie Island’series.

Welcome to Cherry Pie Island – once you step on to the island, you’ll never want to leave!

Also by Jenny Oliver Book List Title Page Author Bio Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Extract Endpages Copyright

The Parisian Christmas Bake Off

The Vintage Summer Wedding

The Little Christmas Kitchen

The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Cafe

The Vintage Ice Cream Van Road Trip

The Great Allotment Proposal

One Summer Night at the Ritz

Jenny Oliver

JENNY OLIVERwrote her first book on holiday when she was ten years old. Illustrated with cut-out supermodels from her sister’s Vogue , it was an epic, sweeping love story not so loosely based on Dynasty .

Since then Jenny has gone on to get an English degree, and a job in publishing that’s taught her what it takes to write a novel (without the help of the supermodels). Follow her on Twitter @JenOliverBooks

Contents

Cover

Blurb Gorgeously glamorous and unforgettably romantic, One Summer Night at the Ritz is the fairy-tale perfect fourth story in Jenny Oliver’s ‘Cherry Pie Island’ series. Welcome to Cherry Pie Island – once you step on to the island, you’ll never want to leave!

Book List Also by Jenny Oliver Book List Title Page Author Bio Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Extract Endpages Copyright The Parisian Christmas Bake Off The Vintage Summer Wedding The Little Christmas Kitchen The Grand Reopening of Dandelion Cafe The Vintage Ice Cream Van Road Trip The Great Allotment Proposal

Title Page One Summer Night at the Ritz Jenny Oliver

Author Bio JENNY OLIVER wrote her first book on holiday when she was ten years old. Illustrated with cut-out supermodels from her sister’s Vogue , it was an epic, sweeping love story not so loosely based on Dynasty . Since then Jenny has gone on to get an English degree, and a job in publishing that’s taught her what it takes to write a novel (without the help of the supermodels). Follow her on Twitter @JenOliverBooks

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Extract

Endpages

Copyright

Chapter One

‘Ow.’

‘Stop moving.’

‘Ow.’

‘Jesus, you’re hopeless.’ Emily paused, allowing Jane to sit forward for a moment and rub her eyebrows as she stood waiting, brandishing a pair of gold glitter tweezers from her own brand EHB cosmetics range. ‘You can have these when I’m finished,’ she said. ‘My gift to your poor eyebrows. Now let’s get on with it,’ she added and carried on her ferocious plucking.

Two days before, none of this had even been on the horizon. Jane had spent the morning poring over her late-mother’s accounts with her feet dangling over the edge of her houseboat, her toes just touching the water, having a cup of tea and a crumpet. Her main focus had been how on earth her mum had kept a massive savings account from her and never spent a penny of it while they’d lived together in a boat that was no wider than a person lying flat on their back and long enough for one bedroom, a living area with a sofa and a tiny kitchen at the far end where they stored all the kitchen paraphernalia in hatches in the floorboards. Her whole life, pretty much, she’d slept on the sofa, packing up her bedding every morning and stowing it in a drawer underneath. In the savings account was enough to build another story on this place and more.

But her mother wasn’t here any more to ask about the money so instead she had studied the statements, phoned the bank to check it wasn’t a mistake, packed it all back up again in the bulging manila folder tied with string and tried not to let the mystery overtake her. She knew better than to try and rationalise anything to do with her mother. Jane had spent a lifetime being prepared for the unexpected. Perhaps that was why she got on so well with Emily – someone else who lived their life by completely their own rules.

‘This is no good.’ Emily paused, having plucked both brows into perfect arches. ‘It’s not enough. I thought it would be enough but it’s not enough, Jane. I’m going to have to do something with the hair.’

‘Please don’t do anything with my hair. It’s fine as it is, really.’

Emily squinted and made a face. ‘I promise, Jane, it really is not.’

Jane was about to counter, when her friend Annie came in the door with her ancient pug Buster. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said, ‘Buster’s so slow nowadays.’ Then she dropped her voice to a really low whisper and said, ‘I don’t think he’s going to last long.’

Emily looked from the dog sniffing all her make-up bags back up to Annie, ‘He can’t hear you, he’s a dog. Is he going to pee on that stuff?’

Annie shrugged. ‘I’d hope not.’

Emily got hold of the strap of the bag and pulled it away from the pug. Jane took the moment of distraction to try and stand up from the sofa and out of Emily’s clutches.

‘Stay there!’ Emily said, one arm on the bag, one hand on Jane’s shoulder urging her to sit.

Annie frowned, ‘What’s going on?’

‘She won’t let me do her hair.’ Emily made a face.

‘I just don’t think I need my hair doing, it’s fine.’

Annie bit her lip, seemed to blanche slightly at the two faces staring at her expecting her to intervene with an answer. ‘I think—’ She scratched her head. ‘I think we have to look at the scenario. I mean if it was just some quick meeting somewhere then fine, go with your normal hair but, Jane, this is a big thing. You’ve worked really hard to get this guy to meet you and you’re going to The Ritz. I mean, The Ritz! When was the last time you went to the Ritz?’

Jane shook her head. ‘I’ve never been to The Ritz.’

‘Really?’ Emily looked surprised. ‘Never?’

‘Course I haven’t been to The Ritz. When would I have been to The Ritz?’

Emily thought about it. ‘I don’t know. I had the most glorious affair in the Ritz Madrid.’

Annie rolled her eyes.

‘See, Jane, if I do your hair, the chances of you having a torrid affair go up ten-fold.’ Emily laughed.

‘Exactly why you shouldn’t touch my hair.’ Jane raised a brow.