Sweetly Isolated (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 1)

The Thick and the Dainty

Author's Note:

Part 2 of today's double update! Hope you enjoy!

Love,

K. xx

***

"Not the only woman he'd kept around those days, given," he added.

Why wasn't Tina surprised? Because you've always known, haven't you? You just didn't want to know.

"But I assume you were the woman," Holyoake said.

"What do you mean, the woman?" Not in the Conan Doyle-esque way, that's for sure.

"When his control over Maddie started slipping, he decided to use her manuscript. His plan was to bring in some other female writer to become the author of The Blood Ballad. Thankfully, I took over the contract before he did," Holyoake said. "That woman was supposed to attend galas, give interviews, and show up on social media. It was you, wasn't it?"

Oh. Oh...

Tina pressed her hand to her forehead - OMG, she dated a manky, poisonous, poxy maggot with no decency or professional ethics - and then she burst into hysterical laughter.

"Blimey, me attending galas, giving interviews– Me?!" She was starting to lose her breath. "And social– social media!" she shrieked and rolled with another bout of laughter. "No wonder he dumped me!" Weren't you upset about it at some point? Apparently not anymore. "Blimey, he clearly knew nothing about women, if he'd chosen me for this! But bloody hell, what an arse!" she exhaled. "What an utter arse!"

"Yes, he is," Holyoake said - and suddenly it was very, very quiet in the kitchen.

Oh, those are very intense cerulean peepers.

"I didn't know about Madelaine," Tina whispered, and he nodded.

"I reckon you didn't," he said and smiled softly. "And you're right," he added cheekily, "you clearly are the worst person for the imposter job. No wonder he didn't succeed."

"Oi!" She pointed a finger at him. "I'm not that gormless." He hummed as if pensively, and Tina gasped dramatically. "Oh you!"

Her napkin hit him to the face, and he guffawed.

"And you're violent." He shook his head in fake mournfulness. "No wonder he dumped you. You'd be impossible to puppeteer."

"Thank you," Tina said. "You say the nicest things... sometimes."

He raised one eyebrow, and Tina giggled.

"So, why is he still sending you holiday gift baskets?" Holyoake asked.

Bugger. And here she thought the conversation was going so well. To lie, or not to lie, that is the bloody question, innit? She could tell him, she thought to her own surprise. She could tell him and include him in a handful of people, such as her brother, her agent, and her lawyer who knew she was Evelyn Cox, the bestselling author. Ooph, that's a scary idea. Alternatively, she could lie... actually no, scratch this idea! That felt minging.

Or she could opt out of deciding how much she liked the bloke for now.

"I can't tell you," she said and gave him an apologetic smile. "I promise it's nothing nefarious, but– I can't tell you."

"Nefarious," he repeated, as if tasting the word. "What sort of a book are you writing there in your boudoir, Clementine Popplewell?"

The man was going to give her a mental whiplash. A second ago she'd been worried for her secret identity - and now she was suddenly reminded how perfectly he fit between her thighs, right here, on this kitchen table.