Fated Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 3)

by Victoria Johns

  Fated Love

  The Soul Sisters Series

  By

  Victoria Johns

  Copyright © 2015 Victoria Johns

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This work is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-10: ??????

  Other Books by Victoria Johns

  The Soul Sisters Series

  Fostering Love

  Forgiving Love

  Dedications get harder and harder to write, each time I put pen to paper I can attribute the meaning of it to a lot of people, but as Lottie’s story took hold it was my closest supporters that spurred me on. For that, I thank you x

  My hubby and son put up with so much while I get carried away to the land of make believe, you’re both my world and I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you for putting up with my craziness.

  My wonderful mum is the best cheer squad ever, knowing that I've made her proud doing this makes me smile constantly. Love you Jilly x

  A very special thanks to:-

  Mina, Suzie, Bina, Nicky, Anna and Mrs. T

  The part you play in my journey always makes it an enjoyable one x

  All my beta readers, reviewers and the blogger community,

  You great people help me live my dream x

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  I often ask myself the same question over and over again, it’s the question I’ve been trying to figure out since I was a young girl, Who am I?

  There are times when I can answer quicker than a heartbeat, but that answer would be false. There are times that I struggle to provide a response that is appropriate to the person asking the question, once again though, that is usually a lie. Most of time I go with the only answer I know, I have no fucking idea.

  I am privileged. This is very true, but I didn’t choose to be. I am a victim of circumstance or rather, breeding.

  I am beautiful. Absolutely true, I’m not even going to deny it. I wield my good looks and amazing figure like the gift it is. I refuse to apologize for it because sometimes it feels like the only decent thing I have going for me.

  I am loved. I believe I am and I have parents who are upstanding members of our community and they say they just want me to be happy. Sometimes that feels true, I genuinely believe they want what’s best for me. In reality they’re desperate for me to walk the path that’s best for them, the one they chose.

  I have the best friends in the world. Totally fucking true. My girls are my sisters, my rocks in this crazy world and without them I’d be the typical mean bitch I’m expected to be. Either that or I’d be in a mental facility somewhere.

  I don’t work. Partially true depending on what you consider ‘work’. I volunteer and sit on town committees, I try and put my family’s status and reputation to some use for the good of others.

  I am in a loving relationship. Fuck, next. Don’t even go there.

  I live a happy fulfilled life. The answer to that question changes as often as my underwear... multiple times a day, I like to be clean and I have been raised to wear matching, yet outfit appropriate under garments.

  Shit, my life is dull.

  I am Charlotte Groves, my friends call me Lottie. I am beautiful, rich and in a fake relationship with a guy I adore. I adore him so much it hurts and I’ve felt like this since I sprouted breasts and discovered the need to remove body hair regularly.

  The problem apparently, is… me. I want real. I want to consume his thoughts and be his reason for breathing. I want to be his everything, just like he is for me. My mother always says I want, never gets, and she’s right. I know it’s me, because I’m not even brave enough to tell him. I’m a woman who can have anything she wants, except him, because I want to earn him. I want the romance and happily ever after. I want him to wake up and see me, really see me and then I’ll know it’s right and meant to be.

  Oliver Hart (appropriate name if you ask me,) stole my heart when I was an impressionable young girl. He is the privileged prince to my inner princess. His parents and mine are both convinced our match is perfect, a fairy tale coupling made up in only stories. Together we’re being groomed as the next generation Hawkstown power couple.

  I don’t really remember how it came about, but what started as Oli suggesting we were dating rapidly grew like a disease, out of control. My mom is overjoyed and my dad truly believes that Oli is a suitor worthy of his only daughter. The longer I let it go on, the happier everyone was and it became harder to disappoint them. I carried on telling myself that if I could convince them I was worthy of his love, he’d realize it too, but to this day it’s still never happened. I haven’t managed to win him over.

  Now I’m in a ridiculous position, one I don’t know how to get out of and keep everyone happy, especially me. All I know is it makes me angry and despise myself a little bit more every day. Realizing you’ve not been brave enough to put it right eats away at you to the point where you don’t know how to contain the pressure you know is destined to explode.

  So that’s it, I am Charlotte Groves. Screaming on the inside, primped and manicured on the outside. For my own sanity and so I can look at myself in the mirror and not hate the reflection, I’ve decided, this shit has to stop, today. I’m going to dump my fake, handsome, sexy boyfriend and be genuinely sad about losing a love I wasn’t good enough to have for real.

  Chapter two

  In hindsight, making the decision to do it today was perhaps a little too brave and deciding to do it during the ridiculous parental brunch that we have to endure is probably crazy. It’s the country club for fuck’s sake, posh just doesn’t cover it. I also have to remember to be gentle, I can’t blame Oli for it all, for years I’ve been an active and willing participant in this lie.

  But hopefully, not for much longer and with the end in sight I’m trying to force myself to feel relief.

  The brunch was going as normal, we sit in the same seats, looking at the same menus and ordering the same shit. Our mom’s are indulging in the same drinks while wittering the same inane chatter. Our dad’s pretend to be interested but persistently glance at cell phones, clocks and watches because they are desperate to be anywhere but here. Oli plasters on the same fake smile and offers me just the right am
ount of inclusion in whatever he talks about.

  Same, same, always the fucking same. If this is what the future of my adult existence is supposed to be like, then hell no!

  I’d begun this game a few months ago to amuse myself. It’s where I answer the same question with the stupidest answers I can think of on the spot. I treat it like a mental agility exercise and reward myself for getting more ridiculous each time. In truth I’m actually wondering what I have to come out with to get an honest or interested reaction.

  It’s always started by my mom, “Lottie darling, what have you got planned this week?”

  “Nothing too exciting, a few charity meetings.”

  “Oh that’s nice.”

  That was it, the extent of my input at the brunch and their interest in me. So I began to play the game to rev things up a bit.

  “I’m going to get a job serving coffee at Mudjoes.”

  “I’m going to be sleeping rough with Trampy Terry this week.”

  “I’m taking up pole dancing with Neely.”

  Admittedly, the dirtier they became the more it would poke at Oli’s temper. He wasn’t a fan of me rocking the boat, he’d frown and sometimes kick me under the table, but my mom, no. Nothing, her concentration was firmly on trying to get through her glass of vodka before the ice cubes melted and diluted it any further.

  Invariably my mood became sour and then Oli would feel it necessary to remind me I was being churlish and that the attitude wasn’t attractive. It would appear that my list of unattractive qualities was always growing in Oli’s eyes, something you never wanted to hear from the guy you loved.

  I could feel my mood plummeting as our brunch continued, I knew the question was coming and I was honestly worried about keeping my depression induced temper under wraps. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I could stand up and scream that Oli’s affections are all bogus in the middle of the country club, but the shame and disappointment following that outburst would be enough to remind me I was a Groves of Hawkstown. I had a reputation to uphold and in the end, my common decency and manners would win out as normal.

  “Lottie darling,” oh fuck here it comes and my temper bubbles, “What have you got planned for the week?”

  “Um, hold that question for a moment mom, I need to check if the biker gang I was planning to have an orgy with are still free. I should have that answer by the time I’m finished powdering my nose.” I didn’t wait for an argument or ignorant agreement, I just pushed my chair back and left. I held my head high and smiled politely to the dumbstruck faces at my table whilst I focussed on my goal, get the fuck away, get to the bathroom and try to regroup.

  Once I hit the bathroom I stood and glared at myself in the mirror. I felt like I was daring my own reflection to challenge me. The beautiful woman with fabulous cheek bones, flawless make up and sleek shiny bobbed blonde hair was a master of disguise. My designer clothes were my armour hiding a different person entirely. The longer I stood there the more I could see the real Lottie fighting to get out, I could literally see her as she was trapped behind glass, screaming for freedom.

  I can’t keep doing this. My friends, my crazy ass soul sisters are all starting to settle down and find their true equal. It didn’t feel that bad when we were all single, but now, I can’t be alone and left on the shelf because of the choices I’m making. I want what they have for me and I’m never going to find it faking it with Oli Hart.

  I had no idea how long I’d been in the bathroom, but I felt like I was on the cusp of something huge, a decision was made and I just needed to find the courage to see it through. After a quick swipe of lip gloss and a few deep breaths I felt ready to head back to the table of doom, I was done with all of this. I opened the outer bathroom door and was grabbed by huge hands from the side.

  “What the fuck is going on with you Lottie?”

  Oli.

  I was right, I knew he’d be unhappy with this week’s game answer. He was a formidable guy, rugged yet oozing professionalism. The fact that I found him so sexually attractive was neither here nor there, he just saw me as someone who provided him with a cover story to play the field. I gave him his freedom while I had none and I helped him avoid the constant questions about settling down and starting a serious relationship. Oli had always been a catch, his money and resources were just the icing on the cake. He had perfectly styled thick blonde hair with a pair of shocking crystal clear blue eyes. The designer stubble he sported should have made him look rough but it didn’t, it fit his mould perfectly. He was always in suits or dress slacks and tailored shirts. There were times when I begged my brain to see him as a sleazy business man, but I couldn’t because he wasn’t, Oli was handsome. The stubble took the too perfect edge off him, it made him masculine and approachable to both men and women. It was the same with the suits, he never wore a neck tie and did it on purpose to make him more real. His frame and bulk gave him the stature of a football player, he was god like. I loved the fact that he was able to make me feel small, a woman should look up to her guy and even in heels he made me feel protected.

  The Hart family owned most of the business properties in Hawkstown’s Main Street. They had family links with the bank and two of Oli’s uncles were senior partners at the law office where Neely worked, this was where Oli conducted his day to day business. His office location was perfect for keeping his business brain on top of the ever growing family dynasty. I want to hate him but I can’t, he can actually be a nice guy. I know this because he’s close with Neely, he saved her a few months ago when she landed herself in the middle of a criminal case. Neely’s guy, Chris, is best pals with Jonas, who happens to be Dolly’s guy. Then you throw Sonny into the mix, who is buds with them all... see my problem? Our circle of friends is so fucking incestuous, it makes it impossible to escape him. It’s not just a matter of the fake dates and ridiculous brunches. Now my best friends are marrying his best friends and there is no relief from it at all. If we’re all out in a group Oli and I have to pretend to be together, it’s expected of us, it’s not like we can switch it off and ignore each other.

  I just can’t fucking escape the one man I want, who doesn’t want me but is always around.

  Being forced to spend time with someone who feels you are good enough to provide ground cover so they can fuck around with whoever they want is bad. It’s truly shit when you realize you’re only a viable excuse but not good enough for the real thing. It’s worse, soul eatingly shit.

  HELL. ON. EARTH.

  I’m not getting any younger. I want my fairy tale and this fabricated shit is affecting everything. I’m really beginning to hate my mom because she’s forcing me to stay in it without actually realizing it. Because of this, I don’t see my dad often. I feel like I have to ration my sane and good tempered days and use them when I’m with my soul sisters because he’s always somewhere in the background. Most of the hours I spend awake are depressing because I’m avoiding something or someone or spending it with someone that doesn’t really want me.

  Decision made, time to put my big girl pants on and move on.

  “Nothing has got into me. I’m tired. I’m exhausted and I’m done with this farcical routine we’re in.” I also wanted to scream that I was lonely, but I held that back.

  “Look, I know you hate this, but what harm is it doing anyone? They’re content and out of our faces and we get a bit of freedom,” he pleads with me quietly.

  “That’s just it Oli, its doing me harm, I don’t have any freedom. None. They are always in my face.”

  “Listen Lottie...,” he says gently, more gentle than I’m used to and I feel my heart flutter.

  “Yes?” I reply, urging him to continue. I finally stop fidgeting with my purse and look up at him, I wasn’t before because it hurts too much, it’s like looking at the sun. It’s beautiful but hurts. I glance around to see what has stolen his attention. He’s not even looking at me anymore, he’s looking over my shoulder and staring down the corridor behind me.


  Turning to follow his eye line I spot Claire Michaels. Utter bitch and waitress at the country club.

  She’s everything I’m not. As in, I’m body proportioned, well groomed and polite and she’s busty, leggy and has an ass you could park a bicycle in.

  And herein lies my real problem, Oli has been banging this dirty waitress for years, they have a mutual understanding apparently. He just can’t see that she’s a gold digging whore waiting for her opportunity to stake her claim out in the open.

  His parents would freak by his choice of toy. They’re all the same, it’s like he finds them in a special bar. Oli doesn’t want to settle down until he can find someone of mother material, until then he’ll have good fun whilst I’m good enough to put his mom off the scent of what he really gets up to.

  The biggest insult in all of this is that he doesn’t see me as mother material. He has this impression that I’m fake and all about the pretty things in life. Oli eventually wants to settle down with someone who will stay at home and let him be the man, a real June Cleaver type and he’s convinced that’s not me. Well fuck him and good luck time warping back to the 1950’s trying to find her.

  After a few seconds of silent communication and head nods between him and Claire, he finally remembers I’m there and glances down at me. “Lottie, head back to the table, our lunch will be served soon. I need to make a quick call.” The fucker actually thinks he can dismiss me and go hump her in some back room whilst our parents are out there, well I can play games too and it’s about time he learned that.

  “OK darling sugar pie,” I say with fake sweetness, desperately calling upon my inner bitch and screaming at her to dial her vengeance level up from modern warfare to nuclear catastrophe. I stride around him and swing my Coach purse up until it smacks him in the side on the way to my arm. Oli never even flinches, such is his concentration on that piece of ass, he never even bothers to reply to me.

  Fucker, I’ll show him.

  I get back to the table just as Gerald, our waiter is depositing the same food we always eat at our places. Let’s see if they think this is the same...