Mr. Love: A Romantic Comedy Read Online Free PDF Page A

if he ’s caught in middle of a multiple vehicle wreck, getting hammered from all sides.
    His disappointment at Jane Cooper not knowing about Too Long the Night is trumped by the terrifying realization that somehow she has broken his cover.
    That she knows he’s responsible for that bit of sleazy trash.
    That he ’s Viola Usher.
    “I’m afraid I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about ,” he says, his voice sounding strangled.
    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Rushworth. Have you heard of Ivy ?”
    He looks down his patrician nose at her.
    “I have not.”
    “It’s a very sexy romance, self-published, written by an unknown author who we’re desperate to sign.”
    “I see, and just what does this have to do with me?”
    “Oh, nothing directly.”
    He relaxes enough to gulp the rest of his wine.
    “There’s a bridge on the cover of the book that I have traced to East Devon. I thought that Viola Usher may live here. Grace didn’t know her, but she said you’re an author and I thought that perhaps you may have some idea of where I can find Ms. Usher. A long shot I know.”
    “Yes,” he says. “A very long shot.”
    He’s about to shoo the woman out when he sees an opportunity here.
    “You say this book is called Ivy ?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you perhaps have a copy with you?”
    “Only on my iPad. It’s not available in print.”
    “Ah, I’ll have no truck with those gadgets,” he says.
    A lie of course, he has a Kindle hidden in the suitcase he’s living out of.
    “Did you want to read it?” Jane Copper asks.
    “Well, it seems a shame that you’ve driven all the way out here on a wild goose chase. I thought that if I read it, then perhaps I may be able to help you find the author, if she’s a local.”
    “I could leave you my iPad,” she says, digging in the bag that she dumped on the floor beside her chair.
    “No, no,” he says, holding up a hand. “I’m a real Luddite, but I understand that I can download a copy and read it on my laptop?”
    “That’s true.”
    “I’ll do it right away and read it tonight. We can meet at Grace’s for brunch and I’ll report back.”
    “I’d be really grateful , Mr. Rushworth.”
    “Gordon, please.”
    “Gordon.”
    He looks at her.
    “But I’m afraid there is going to be a little quid pro quo .”
    “Oh?”
    “I’ll read your novel if you read mine.”
    She smiles at him .
    “I suppose that’s fair. I’ll take it back with me to New York.”
    He wags a finger at her.
    “I was thinking that you’d make a start tonight, and you could give me your impressions at brunch.”
    “I am a little tired.”
    “Would it be unreasonable for you to read, say, five or six chapters?”
    He digs into his suitcase and withdraws a spiral bound wad of paper as fat as a telephone directory.
    He sees her eyes widen.
    “That’s quite some book,” she says.
    “I hope you still feel that way when you’ve read it.”
    She takes the manuscript and dumps it into her shoulder bag, which hangs heavy when she stands.
    “Well, let me get across to my room at the Sugar Maple Inn.”
    “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
    “I hope that’s a j oke?”
    “Only partly,” he says, with a smile.
    Jane Cooper drags her mouth down in reply and he shows her out, a subtle hint of her perfume left in the air.
    Gordon sloshes wine into his glass and takes stock.
    A bizarre situation, of course.
    And one fraught with peril.
    But surely he can turn it to his advantage?
    H e empties the bottle and falls asleep on the couch, convinced that he can.

7
     
     
     
     
    Jane Cooper, propped up in a lumpy bed at the Sugar Maple Inn reading Gordon Rushworth’s atrocious novel, sees a cockroach scuttling across the wooden floor toward her suitcase.
    Before she can stop herself she hurls the bulky manuscript and squashes the roach.
    About all the book is good for.
    Jane, dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, gets out of bed and, using a Kleenex, her mouth making a little