UNEXPECTED LOVER
SCARLETT ARCHER
Introduction
Isobel is a college student who has been left behind on the spring break trip. With her friends out of the way and the house empty, Isobel decides that there is no better time to reinvent herself. No more will she be the shy girl who studies more than she breathes. From tonight onwards, she’s going to be Isobel, aspiring model and party girl.
Isobel’s plan starts out perfectly. She wears her sexiest dress and makes her way down to her favourite bar. She flirts with the bartender as she looks for her first endeavour. When Peter walks into the bar, Isobel knows that he’s the one. Donning her alter ego, she introduces herself.
They spend the night together, and when Isobel leaves the next day, the last thing she expects is to want to be back in his arms. Little does she know that he feels the exact same way about her. His only problem is that she spent the entire night pretending that she doesn’t know him at all. Surely, she recognizes him from college?
They both want to see where time will take their relationship, but as Peter’s life grows more complicated, Isobel’s lies start to scare her. Will she ever admit to him who she is? Will Peter ever be free of his parents expectations?
Will the end of spring break be the end of them?
Contents
CHAPTER 01
CHAPTER 02
CHAPTER 03
CHAPTER 04
CHAPTER 05
CHAPTER 06
CHAPTER 07
CHAPTER 08
CHAPTER 09
CHAPTER 10
Unexpected Lover
A novel by Scarlett Archer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishment, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the permission of the Publisher. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
Copyright ©2017 by Scarlett Archer
All rights reserved
CHAPTER 01
I’m going to own tonight. While my friends are in the Caribbean, partying it up with the other spring breakers, I’m going to use this time wisely and try to find myself, like in Eat, Pray, Love. Only, without the trip to Rome. I want that sweep-away romance all the books talk about. Or, just a sleazy one-night stand. I’m probably more likely to achieve the latter in this city, anyway.
I put on my favourite dress, a gold sequined number, and I strap on my silver heels and examine myself in the mirror. My make-up is excellent, if I do say so myself. My golden eye-shadow perfectly complements the outfit and my silver earrings match my shoes. I look glamorous and not at all like me.
I look around my room to see if I need anything else. My double bed sits in the corner, under the window, where the morning light can catch it. I love waking up to the sun. It’s like a natural alarm clock, and it’s always refreshing, but I don’t know exactly why. Strewn across my unmade bed are all the different outfits I was considering for tonight’s reinvention.
At the foot of my bed is my purple ottoman, which I use to store my shoes. It’s flung wide open and around it is all the pairs I’d tried on until I found this one.
My desk is covered in notes and books and my laptop is completely hidden underneath my notepads and essay pages. Pens sit messily across its dark wood surface, and the drawers are open and spilling more paper and stationary.
My vanity table is worse. The mirror is smeared with concealer and foundation from where I touched it after applying my make-up. My entire makeup and hair collection cover the surface, and I have to scavenge for my necessities.
I clamber over the crap on my floor to reach it, where my phone sits as well.
I grab my bag and throw my phone in, along with my lipstick and mascara for emergency re-applications.
“Right, Isobel,” I say to myself in the mirror, “this night you are going to be someone new. You’re going to be calm, confident and beautiful.”
I nod to my reflection and make my way out of the house. My college home is pretty nice in comparison to some of the other student places. For a start, it has six bedrooms, so I live here with my closest friends. Second, it has a living area with a massive TV and the kitchen is huge. The rooms are all reasonably sized and it’s cheap as hell. I love it.
Usually, the house is bustling with activity, but not today. Not for the next two weeks. Spring break is always the quietest around these college towns. All my friends, and I’m sure at least forty-five percent of the student population, have gone off somewhere to wreak havoc.
I descend the steps at the front of my house and stand by the road waiting for a cab to turn up. It’s April, so it’s still kind of chilly, but I didn’t want to ruin my outfit with a cardigan and I don’t have a light jacket that matches my dress. Goosebumps decorate my arms and legs, but I know the bar will be warm, so I don’t mind too much.
A cab turns at the top of my street and I throw my arm out and whistle. It comes to a screeching stop and I climb into the back.
“Hi! Can you take me to The Dove Bar please?” I ask, politely.
The cab driver nods and takes off.
As he drives, I pull out my phone and message my best friend, Anabelle, and tell her my plans.
‘Hey girl, hope you’re having a great time out there! I’m just on my way to The Dove. Hopefully I’ll meet a man! I’ll keep you updated.’
We do this all the time. When either of us are going out ‘On The Pull’, as we call it, we message each other. Usually, it involves a lot of unnecessary bathroom trips so that we can tell each other the details and get snappy advice.
The only problem now is that she’s out there, having a party for two weeks, so she probably won’t be with me all night. I don’t mind. I’ll be fine. I just want to keep her updated for the sake consistency. Plus, it might give her something nice to read when she wakes up hungover.
The cab pulls up outside of the bar and I pay the driver and climb out. I enter the bar and get a few of the normal glances. Not to over-sell myself or anything, but I’m something of a stunner. A lot of people look at me, especially when I’m dressed up to the nines.
Surprisingly, this doesn’t make me feel good. In fact, it makes me feel like a pig going in for slaughter or a zoo animal. It makes me second guess everything. I wonder if I’m looking fat in my dress or if my make-up is askew.
It took a long time for me to learn to walk with my head high and to pretend that it doesn’t bother me. Worse is when the other girls look at me. They should know what this is like. They should understand that I don’t feel good about taking their boyfriends attention away from them.
They should know it makes me feel dirty.
The bar is dark, as most bars are. There are a variety of tables scattered across the room, round tables with two chairs and large, square ones for the bigger groups, hosting almost ten people. There are small lamps on each table, battery powered I think, because I cannot see the wires. Several low lights hang from the ceiling, giving off a little light, but allowing it to keep the smoky feel.
The chatter is typical. Some people whisper quietly to themselves, while others are unnecessarily loud, laughing so that other people know they’re having a good time, and acting as though the bar is their own. One group who’re sat by the door have a table completely filled with half empty glasses and bottles. One of the girls is leani
ng heavily on the boy next to her, so I think she’s probably drunk.
People are wearing outfits that range across a number of different attires. For example, one of the men deemed it appropriate to wear his jogging bottoms and sports jacket, while the girl that he is with is in a nice outfit of light blue jeans and a silvery top. Another girl has come in her active wear too, and one of the other girls on her table is in a business suit. Why didn’t they all just agree to follow a dress code? Smart casual is easily done.
I saunter across the floor, trying to appear as unnerved as possible, and I sit upon a bar stool and lean onto the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me. The bartender looks about twenty-four, with these blue, tranquil pools for eyes and blonde, spiked hair.
He looks as though he listens to punk rock music while complaining about capitalism. Not my type.
He spots me and I order my favourite drink, a Vodka Cranberry. In my opinion, it’s the best drink there is.
He makes it in record time and once it’s in my hand, he tries to strike up a conversation.
“You here alone?” He asks.
The conversation doesn’t have to go much further for me to understand where he’s going with this. I don’t want to give him any inclination that he could end up taking me home tonight, so I smile and tell him I’m waiting for someone. He’ll know I’m lying soon enough, but hopefully, by that point, someone else will come and talk to me.
I swivel my chair around and watch the other patrons of the bar as they talk and laugh. I wish to be one of them. They don’t seem to have a care in the world.
Me? I’m a ball of self-conscious anxiety. I’m too shy for words and too nervous for random meetings, but tonight I’m going to change that. I’m not going to be Isobel, pre-med. I’m going to be Isobel, out-going waitress who lives life on the fast track.
I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m usually too reserved to allow myself to have too much fun. Plus, I have very little time for myself, as studying takes up most of my day. I work hard because I know exactly what my future is. I’ve planned it all out down to the T, but as Anabelle keeps telling me, I haven’t factored in the need for a social life, and that’s important too.
For my first year of college, I barely left my dorm room. The only person I ever spoke to was my dorm mate at the time, Stacy, and she was barely in. She was everything I wanted to be. Care-free, fun loving and confident to boot.
She would always stumble in at seven in the morning, either hungover or still drunk. I would always be awake by then, because I liked to get a head start on my reading. Especially if I had lectures that day. I would read and then re-read all of the lectures content so that I fully understood everything being said.
She would change into her pyjamas (sometimes with my help) and then regale me with the nights event. They were all the same, but different bars and different men. She’d turn up, turn away men until she found one that she liked and then go home with him. Then, in the morning, she’d sneak out, leaving them a note of thanks.
“Never go near one of the college students, Bell.” She’d warn me before she fell asleep. “The rumours are bound to be horrific. Besides, you need a man. Not a boy.”
And then I’d be left practically on my own with my studying while she slumbered soundly across the room.
I want to be like her. Maybe I should channel my inner Stacy.
As I sip my drink through the little red straws I love so much, I watch as a young man comes through the doors, looking awkward and nervous. He turns to the bar and I recognize him, but I can’t quite put a finger on how. I’ve most likely seen him around. It’s a rather small town, after all.
He’s tall, with creamy skin and a beautiful mask of stubble over his chin and cheeks. His dark hair hangs short around his ears and he has the look of innocence. He wears a white shirt, open with a blue t-shirt underneath. He’s really gone for the casual look tonight.
I want him to come over, but the only way I can think to achieve that is to call, and I don’t know his name. Instead, I make sure he’s caught my eye before I turn and face the bar, hopefully looking sexy and flirty.
I have no idea if I actually do, because I’ve never really tried, but here’s to hoping. There’s a first time for everything, and I have a feeling that tonight is going to be a first-time kind of night.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and I know that it’s him, so I fling my hair over my shoulder and turn my head to face him, batting my eyelashes as I do so. He seems taken aback by my behavior, but I hope that’s a positive thing. Like; ‘Woah, she’s so beautiful, I don’t know what to do with myself’ rather that ‘What is she doing? Why is she acting weird?’
One can hope.
“Isobel?” He smiles warmly and my heart hammers in my chest with anticipation.
I tilt my head and arch an eyebrow.
“Do I know you?” I ask, wondering how he could.
“We’re in the same biology class.” He tells me, though he doesn’t seem confident about it.
I’m pretty sure he’s lying. There are a few biology classes at the college and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in one of them before. I don’t hold it against him. Being cute overrides a silly mistake like that.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” I reply with a terrible attempt at an English accent. “I’m a waitress in a restaurant down town.”
He isn’t convinced, I can see it on his face, and I’m not surprised. I sounded more Australian than English. I don’t even know why I’m attempting it. I’ve never had a knack for accents, so what did I think was going to happen? I’d suddenly find the skill?
Why am I like this?
I offer him a winning smile and he sits down in the stool next to me.
“Ok, Isobel the waitress. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiles and offers me his hand to shake.
He smiles at me with his big, doe eyes. His teeth are all perfectly in place and white. His eyelashes are so long that I really want to touch them. Why should a man be granted such perfect features when girls like me have to buy products to achieve that look? So unfair.
“What’re you drinking?” He asks, pointing towards my drink.
“Vodka cranberry.” I say, my accent suddenly sounding German.
Oh god, Isobel. Stop! You’re making a fool of yourself.
He bites back a laugh and signals to the bartender to come over.
“Alright, Jake? Could you get me a cold one and a Vodka Cranberry for Isobel?”
Jake nods, gives Peter a sly wink, and sets about his business.
“Do you know him?” I ask, letting my accent drop altogether.
“Yeah, we’re friends.” He accepts his beer gratefully and slides my drink closer to me.
“Thanks.”
I place a napkin under my drink and continue drinking my first one. I eye him up, curiously. He’s undeniably attractive. I’ve heard the girls in my house whisper about their perfect one-night stands, but I’ve never had one before. Maybe this will be mine? I might finally be able to have an input into that conversation.
“So, any plans for tonight?” I try for a seductive voice, but I sound like I’ve got a swollen tongue.
Dammit.
“Uh, I was just planning to stay here for a while. Just wanted to relax.” He gives me a knowing smile. “I’m pre-med, see. I don’t get out often.”
“I’m out all the time. Love to frequent the bars, you know? I’m something of a socialite.” I lie.
“Oh? Sounds like a nice life. I’m breaking my back to be able to get this degree. Beginning to wonder if it’s all worth it.”
What the hell?
I’ve never thought about my degree like that. Of course, it’s worth it. You have to work hard to get what you want, and I want to be a doctor, more than anything in the world. I work myself delirious some days, just so that I can achieve my dream.
Hearing him say this shocks me, and he can tell. He breaks into an awkward smile.
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“I know it sounds ridiculous. I’ve been doing this for years now, and I always wanted to be a surgeon, but it just gets to a point, y’know? Last week I didn’t get the chance to speak to anyone about anything other than medicine and it’s just tiring.” He sighs heavily. “The worst part is that college is the supposed to be the best time of our lives. This is supposed to be easy compared to our… sorry, my residency. All I see for the next five years is me working myself to death, just to get the job I want.”
“But, surely it will be worth it? You’ll get to save countless lives.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I’m going to sound selfish when I say that it feels like I’m wasting mine to do this. I should have been an art major.” He laughs humourlessly. “At least I’d have gotten to spend my days drinking and painting.”
Unexpected Lover: College Romance Book 1 Page 1