New York Valentine
Read New York Valentine Online
Authors: Carmen Reid
Love is in the air!
Personal shopper Annie Valentine has a dream job in the heart of fabulous Manhattan.
Daughter Lana is lost in the heat of first love, but has she fallen for a heart-breaker?
In London, husband Ed faces a scandal at work and knows, in his heart, he needs Annie back.
What’s a girl to do when her true love is in London but her new love is New York?
Does it have to be fashion
or
family, or can Annie Valentine have it all?
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781409044093
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NEW YORK VALENTINE
A CORGI BOOK: 9780552163170
First publication in Great Britain
Corgi edition published 2011
Copyright © Carmen Reid 2011
Carmen Reid has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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Carmen Reid is the bestselling author of the
Personal Shopper
series, starring Annie Valentine, and four non-series novels.
She has worked as a newspaper journalist and columnist, but now writes fiction full-time. Carmen also writes a series for teen readers,
Secrets at St Jude’s
.
She lives in Glasgow, Scotland, with her husband and two children.
Visit
www.carmenreid.com
for competitions, exclusive content and Carmen’s blog!
Also by Carmen Reid
THREE IN A BED
DID THE EARTH MOVE?
HOW WAS IT FOR YOU?
UP ALL NIGHT
Starring Annie Valentine
THE PERSONAL SHOPPER
LATE NIGHT SHOPPING
HOW NOT TO SHOP
CELEBRITY SHOPPER
And for teenage readers
SECRETS AT ST JUDE’S: NEW GIRL
SECRETS AT ST JUDE’S: JEALOUS GIRL
SECRETS AT ST JUDE’S: DRAMA GIRL
SECRETS AT ST JUDE’S: REBEL GIRL
Lana all set for work:
Skinny black jeans (Diesel)
Sleeveless cowl-necked, belted, complicated top (All Saints)
Skull and crossbones necklace (market stall)
White gym shoes (old PE kit)
Cloud of perfume (Gucci Floral)
Total est. cost: £215
‘Oh Muuuuuuum!’
‘Move that great big, gorgeous bum out of bed now!’
The voice in Annie’s ear was teasing but insistent.
‘Right now!’
‘Oh no,’ she protested, ‘no, no, no, no. You have got to be joking. It can’t be time. I only went to bed five minutes ago. Seriously!’
But there was no mercy. The duvet was whipped off and a playful, but still surprisingly stingy, smack landed on her behind.
‘Owww!’
‘Up!’ Ed instructed. ‘Owen and I have to leave in five minutes. The twins are washed, changed, dressed and fed. The Princess of Darkness is in charge but you, my darling girl, need to get up.’
‘Yes, I’ve got that,’ Annie said huffily. Finally, she sat up, prised opened her eyes and let the room come into focus.
‘Someone should not have been out partying into the small hours when she has a full day of filming ahead. You’re not 25 any more,’ Ed pointed out.
‘Thanks for reminding me.’
Annie’s puffy eyes were properly opened now. She rubbed at eyelashes crunchy with last night’s mascara and looked at her …
husband
.
Husband. Husband.
They had married in June, almost exactly three months ago now, but she still wasn’t quite used to Ed, this lovely man, her boyfriend, step-dad to her older children, father to her twins … being her
husband
.
Her thumb moved instinctively to fiddle with the dainty diamond ring on her fourth finger.
Ed had understood her resistance to a traditional gold band. Annie had worn a wedding ring before, a ring which was now stored, in its leather case, along with a selection of other precious belongings – a memory box for the husband she’d lost. So Ed had married her in June with a sliver of platinum and a diamond as slight and sparkly as a fairy.
Through the crusty mascara Annie took an appraising look at him: he had broad shoulders and a muscular build, a kind face, a teacher’s ‘firm-but-fair’ face, brought to life with the twinkle of mischief which rarely left his warm blue eyes and expressive mouth. Then there was unruly hair: sandy brown, curly and messed up whatever he did with it.
‘You look foxy,’ she told him.
‘You think?’ he asked modestly, but gave his slim hips a little shake for her benefit.
‘Yeah, you’ve come a long way, babes. You have learned the ways of the well-dressed Annie-man.’
After a little snort, he pointed out: ‘I picked out my clothes and put them on all by myself this morning.’
‘Yeah, but it’s taken
years
of living with me for you to make such good choices.’
Yes. From his sleek, indigo jeans, past the good belt, slim-fit dark blue shirt, nicely tailored grey tweed jacket up to the casually overgrown hair, he looked good. Really good.
‘Goodbye kiss,’ she said, opening her arms.
Although Ed was on a tight schedule, he knelt down in front of her, put his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. Pushing the peachy slip she’d worn to bed out of the way, he licked her breast.
‘Good looking
and
frisky,’ she said, crossing her ankles around his back.
‘Lucky old you,’ he replied.
They kissed long and lovingly before Ed had to break off because it really was time to go. Pulling on her dressing gown, Annie followed him out of the bedroom.
‘I’ve got to say goodbye to my mini Alan Sugar.’
‘More like your tiny Tony Soprano!’
They hurried down the narrow flights of stairs to the hallway where Annie’s 14-year-old son, Owen, was already waiting, his heavy rucksack rumpling his blazer, his narrow trousers a little too high above scuffed black shoes.
‘Come on!’ Owen urged Ed, ‘chop, chop, chop, let’s look perky.’
He made an exaggerated movement towards his watch, slowly pulling back the cuff of his school shirt and flashing the bling golden timepiece on his wrist.
‘Owen?!’ Annie began, ‘what piece of old tat have you been lashing your cash on now?’
‘Genuine,’ Owen said, tapping at the face of his watch.
‘Yeah,’ Ed shot the watch a glance, as he scrambled his bags, guitar and violin cases together. ‘Genuine fake Swiss watch, made in China and flogged down the market by the Russian wide-boys.’
‘You don’t have to believe me,’ Owen said, replacing the cuff and shooting his mum a smug smile.
He ducked his head slightly as she approached, but still allowed her to kiss him on the cheek and run a hand through his hair.
‘That’s my boy,’ she said, realizing with a pang that he was just half an inch or so shorter than her. Any week now and he would overtake. He would be her big boy and she would have to look up to him!
He picked up his flashy sports bag and as he headed towards the door, gave her a wave which made the gold strap on his wrist twinkle.
For several months now, Owen had been making serious pocket money working on a market stall for his entire weekends. Just like his mum, after Owen had earned hard, there was nothing he liked to do more than spend hard.
Owen loved to work and he loved to buy and sell. Annie still found it funny, because Owen had once been very shy and introverted. The kind of little boy who’d found it easier to talk to his toy trains than to his friends. But now the trader Owen worked for at the weekends was paying him £90 a day, plus commission, because he was so good at his job.
Yes, there was a certain amount of ear-grating, market-stall lingo that Owen’s family now had to endure. Annie could just about stand it because when Owen talked about his DVD stall, he just lit up with excitement. And wasn’t that what you had to encourage your kids to do? Help them to find the things in life which lit them up?
Annie kissed Ed one more time, waved her two boys out of the door, then headed towards the kitchen where her nearly-18-year-old daughter Lana, who had definitely not yet found the things which lit up her life, was looking after the twins.
‘Good morning, my love,’ Annie said cheerily as she entered the room, her smile widening as she spotted the freshly made pot of coffee. Ed really was too good to be true.
Lana made a grouchy ‘umph’ in reply and carried on sipping from her mug, behind a curtain of long, dark hair. The babies, almost a year old now, began to scurry across the kitchen floor towards their mummy.
