Sommer Marsden - Chasing Shade

SOMMER MARSDEN

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.mischiefbooks.com

An eBook Original 2015

Copyright © Sommer Marsden 2015

Sommer Marsden 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, down-loaded, 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-books.

EBook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008148744

Version: 2015–05–26

When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.

William Shakespeare

Contents

Cover

Title Page Chasing Shade SOMMER MARSDEN A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright Mischief An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF www.mischiefbooks.com An eBook Original 2015 Copyright © Sommer Marsden 2015 Sommer Marsden 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, down-loaded, 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-books. EBook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008148744 Version: 2015–05–26

Epigraph When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew. William Shakespeare

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

Epilogue

More from Mischief

About the Publisher

Archie Rader swerved his truck, cussed and then slowed. There was very little traffic on the road at this hour and he was curious. Curious enough to back up his ancient pickup in the middle of the street.

‘What the hell?’ He stared at it for a moment before realising what he was contemplating wasn’t organic. It was, in fact, synthetic. It was a weave. A hair extension in an odd caramel colour. ‘And here you thought it was a beaver, dumb ass.’

He put the truck back in drive just as headlights came up on the crest of the hill behind him. He had no idea where he was going other than along the road he was on. That’s what the guy at the gas station had told him. Follow this road to the diner. Chicken, waffles, cheap pancakes and rashers of bacon as far as the eye could see is what he’d promised. He’d also promised the shittiest coffee Archie had ever had.

He could live with that.

‘So long, roadkill.’ He pressed the gas, ignored the little hitch the truck gave as it took off, and focused on finding some food. His head was too full of bullshit and worry to even think about it before coffee. Not after he’d been driving all night long.

And since he had nowhere to go, he’d be driving all day and all night again. And again. And then again until he somehow figured this big mess out. Being homeless and drifting had not been in his game plan for this year. Settling down, starting a family, being a grown-ass man…that had been his plan.

‘No use crying over spilled dreams,’ he whispered. Then he saw the larger-than-life yellow and red sign for the diner and his heart leaped just a little. He had about two hundred dollars to his name, not counting the stuff in the bank that would be harder to get. He aimed to spend some of what he had on breakfast.

‘Betsey, I ordered an English muffin.’ Earl waved a limp piece of toast at her.

Betsey did her best to not roll her eyes. ‘You ordered toast, Earl.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Mrs Kline rolled her eyes at Betsey, breaking the eye-rolling rule. Betsey smiled. Earl had been having a problem remembering things lately. Luckily his daughter Janine thought it was due to a new medication and not the more dreaded senility or something more serious. ‘He ordered toast, I heard him,’ Mrs Kline whispered conspiratorially.

Betsey gave her a nod and a wink and then made her way over to Earl. She loved her job, believe it or not. What she hated was the ugly-ass brown-mustard-baby-poop-yellow diner uniform complete with Peter Pan collar and red neckerchief. Maybe one of these days The Double Star would decide to update its uniform.

She snatched the toast from Earl, dumped it in the trash, patted his hand and yelled, ‘An English muffin for Earl!’ through the order window at Tony. Tony, a gaunt man with about four grey hairs on his head, grunted once and turned to slide an English muffin into the toaster.

‘Thanks, Bets.’

‘No problem, Earl. I must have misheard you.’

As she passed Mrs Kline again on her way to wipe down the empty tables, the woman whispered, ‘You should have saved the toast. He’s liable to get the other and swear he ordered toast.’

Betsey chuckled. ‘Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?’

The pickup truck pulled up just as she was replacing the Mason jar full of fake daisies and sunflowers on the table. The truck was a 70s model if it was a day and a nice mustard-yellowish brown to match her uniform. But somehow the colour worked on steel way better than on a twenty-five-year-old woman.

‘Hello, stranger.’

She meant the truck, but when the man who drove it got out her interest perked.

No room for that kind of stuff, lady. Put your revving sex drive away.

‘– up!’

She turned and before she could catch herself barked, ‘What?’

‘Order up!’

‘Order?’

‘My English muffin!’ Earl said around a mouthful of food. Then: ‘Ah, never mind, doll, keep doing that.’ He stood up, walked behind the counter and grabbed his food from the pickup window. He’d only been eating at the Double Star for thirty or forty years. Betsey figured she could let that slide.