Forget Me Never

Forget

Me

Never

M .J. Rutter

© Copyright M. J. Rutter-Author

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief use in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
.

Acknowledgements

You would think that after 18 novels, I would be an expert at writing these now. Well, every novel brings me something new and this one is no different. I am seriously suffering with a book-hangover after this emotional whirlwind of a story that came to me as a dream. I have spent hours away from my family working on this and as always, they have been amazing.

I would like to thank my amazing Beta team,

Susan Scott, you have always supported me and been there if I need to whinge or complain, when I have doubts about my work and when I just need an ear to bend. Thank you, my dear friend, no journey would ever be the same without you.

Denise Mitchell, like Susan you are there within seconds, your words and encouragement keep me going and I cannot thank you enough. It is handy to have you in my home town and I promise, we are so having a coffee morning when the kids go back to school.

Heidi Christiensen-Wynne, you never let me down, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support, all the way from across the pond, in your busy life, you always seem to find time to read for me.

Michelle Robinson, again, I cannot thank you enough for your support and for paying attention to my monsters when I am too busy to.

Katie Prior, from glorious Wales, once again, you have supported me all the way through and four years later, we are still here.

The newest member to the team is the beautiful Elin Carlsen, a huge welcome to the team and thank you for all of help with this novel, I hope this is the start of a long and happy working relationship.

To those incredible Sassy Queens of Design, thank you again for a beautiful cover, I am at a loss for words as to how well matched this cover is to the story. It is truly remarkable.

To my husband, Franie and our amazing children, thank you. I can never repay the hours I spend away from you, but I love you with all of my heart and hope that you continue to be there when I need you the most.

This is my fourth anniversary novel and I would to thank each and every one of you who has been there constantly, supporting me with awesome reviews and messages that really come when I need them the most. So from the bottom of my heart a huge THANK YOU for a wonderful four years and long may it continue. I promise, if you stick with me, the ride will only get better.

M J Rutter.

Prologue

I made it in time, I had to run down the stairs because I missed the lift, I almost bumped into a luggage cart or two. I even manage to dodge the scary looking twins with chocolate stained hands. Cute smiles and all of that, but you will not leave a mark on me by way of a hand print.

              At the door to the hotel ceremony room, I stopped, a little warm and out of breath, I checked my dress over and ensured my fake eyelashes hadn’t dropped. Now, what was I doing?

              Oh yeah! Getting married. Agghh!

One

Discovering that my boyfriend of seven years had actually been cheating on me, after telling me
‘I just need a break, I swear, I love you and you are the one I will marry.’
, made me feel a complete fool. I must have had gullible idiot written across my forehead for years. That is how I felt when a friend informed me that he had been cheating on me for the last two years of our relationship. I almost didn’t believe her, but she mentioned one name, Tracy and I knew she was telling the truth. Tracy had started working with him and at first she was all he talked about, then he just stopped. He was my everything, my friend, my first lover and my right arm. Losing him hurt like nothing I had felt before, that was until I learned of his betrayal.

              At first I recoiled, hid away from everyone, not even answering the phone to my parents. At first I thought it was my fault. But as the weeks rolled into months and the summer approached, I began to realize a few things. Number one, most men, not all men, were barefaced liars. Number two, I had to stop being such a victim and number three, I had one life to live and I intended to grab it by the horns and make my mark on the world.

The holiday we had booked together was my first step. I was making that trip to LA, alone. It was too late to change anything on it anyway. So, I boarded the plane, bound for LAX and sat in my seat. I didn’t miss the fact that he wasn’t there, in fact, I spread out over two seats and made sure I enjoyed the extra space I had paid for. The cabin crew were amazingly friendly, I knew I was right to book a flight with an American airline, they look after you more.

              As we prepared to land, I went to the bathroom to touch up my make-up. I placed my bag on the counter beside the small sink and gazed at my pink cheeks. My green eyes looked dizzy with excitement and my strawberry blonde curls needed dampening down as they had frizzed up during the flight. 

              Clearing security was certainly something I won’t forget in a hurry. Even though I was only in America for a holiday, I was made to feel like I was an illegal alien trying to lie my way in, never to return to the UK. I loved my fashion magazine job in London way too much to not go home. Finger prints were taken and they took a picture of me before handing me my passport.

              I was shown to my sliver hire car and loaded my bags into the huge boot. I had no idea that Hyundai had made such big cars. I started the engine, realizing that I was on the other side of the car, I concentrated hard so as to make it out of the airport both safely and on the other side of the road. Thank God for the Sat Nav, I honestly don’t think I would have been able to drive around LA without it.        

            
 
“Hello, welcome to East LA
.
May I take your name?” The brunette receptionist at the Carlton Hotel I had booked, asked.

              “Yes, Grace Matthews.” I answered.

              “Ah yes, Grace and uh, where is Mr Lewis?”

              “Not here,” I frowned.

              “I see. Did you want a smaller room? I have a single room at…”

              “No, I booked a suite and I am staying in a suite.” I affirmed.

              She smiled sweetly and checked me into my room. “Suite 406 on the seventh floor.” She signalled to a bell boy waiting by the fountain, “Anton will bring up your bags.” She handed me a key card. “If you need anything, please dial zero on the telephone.”

              “Thank you,” I smiled and left the grand foyer following Anton as he carried my bags towards the lift.

              He was extremely tall and had jet black hair. He pressed the button to call the lift and as the doors opened he smiled,

              “Ladies first.”

              “Thanks,” I replied reminding myself that he would probably like a tip.

              The doors closed and he cleared his throat, “I hope to go to London one day.” He said.

              “I live and work in London, but I am from the coast in Suffolk.” I replied.

              “You are so lucky and your accent is amazing.” He grinned.

              “Thank you,” I replied.

              “That’s what I love about the English, you are so polite.”  

              The lift doors opened with a ping and he waited for me to step out. He then led me down the cream painted corridor to my room. The red and gold carpet made it feel warm and almost like something I would find back in London.

We stopped at a door and I was relieved to see a table with a vase of flowers outside of it. I honestly didn’t know if I would find my room again. I pushed to card into the lock and it clicked, I pushed the door open and gasped. It truly was as stunning as the web site had promised. Cream carpet on the floors, gold and cream curtains and wall paper on the walls. French doors opening out onto a balcony and a huge living room. Two leather sofas also cream, sat opposite each other and a huge mirror lined the back wall.

              Anton placed my bags on the floor and turned to face me. “Your bathroom is the door on the left of the bed and your closet is on the right. Breakfast is served between five and nine, lunch between eleven-thirty and two and dinner from six onwards, but if you prefer, we will bring you room service, the menu is beside the telephone.”

              “This is amazing,” I gleamed gazing around.

              “Do you need anything else?” he asked.

              “Oh, no, thank you.” I said pulling some dollars out of my bag. I didn’t know what to give him so held at a wad of cash. He smiled and took a five-dollar bill.

              “Thank you, Miss Matthews.” He then left and closed the door behind him.

The first thing I did, I kicked off my shoes, my feet were killing me. I walked around the room bare footed feeling the thick carpet between my toes, and so relieved I had got there, so what if that twat wasn’t with me, this was going to be best holiday I had ever had.

I padded around the room opening the French doors to the balcony and allowing some of the warm air to enter the air conditioned room. The breeze blew through the sheer white voiles, lifting them from the glass. As much as I wanted to go out there, I wanted to see the bedroom and bathroom.

I pushed yet more doors open and tears filled my eyes. The biggest, most comfortable looking bed I’d ever seen was dressed in cream covers and mountains of pillows. The bathroom had a large walk in shower with glass doors and a huge sunken bath tub in the middle of the floor. This was something I’d seen in brochures and movies; I’d never thought for one minute that I’d have the chance to bathe in such an extravagant bathroom. Even with my London wage, my small flat all but crippled me every month.

This holiday had been in the making for two years. We’d stopped going out with our friends, put our wedding on hold and I had cashed in some of my ISA’s and for what? For Kevin-sodding-Lewis to decide that what we had wasn’t worth it anymore, that I was not what he wanted after all. Oh yes, I was going to make the most of this holiday if it killed me.

I had dinner in my room that night followed by a quick shower and then I went to bed, exhausted from a day of travelling, but so happy to be away from everything and everyone that reminded me that I had been left to wither and die like an unwanted weed in the garden.

My mother tried to warn me years ago, she always sensed that Kevin was out for what he could get out of me and was never truly committed to our relationship. She’d heard about his affair and when I told her, she was not at all surprised. My father told me that he also felt that Kevin was a liar and would never have married me. He had used me and when he found out I had invested my inheritance in ISA’s and bonds, he suddenly didn’t want me anymore.

              If he had just told me the truth I would have let him go and tried to move on, but he kept me dangling, he didn’t want me, he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. So, like an idiot I waited for him to make up his mind. When Saffron, my best and oldest friend came to my flat with a bottle of red and a Chinese takeaway, I knew something was up, she had that look in her eye. The look that said she had something to tell me and it would more than likely hurt, but because she was my friend, she had no choice. I had seen the look when she came to tell me our other friend, Alaska, had killed herself.

I woke early eager to start the day, I dressed in white Capri pants and a loose white shirt. I then headed down to the restaurant to have some breakfast. As I sat sipping orange juice from a large glass, while waiting for some scrambled eggs, a group of business men came in. Dressed in suits and ties, with newspapers under their arms and laughing as they talked, everyone noticed them, oblivious to their surroundings, they chatted and sat around large table across from me.

              “Miss Matthews, apologies for the wait,” the waiter said as he placed a plate of eggs in front of me.

              “It’s fine, honestly.” I insisted. I hated eating alone, I hated having no one to talk to, to laugh with, to share a story with. I hated that Kevin made me come here alone, to sit alone and eat. After only a few mouthfuls I returned my fork to my plate and wiped my mouth with a napkin. I glanced up and caught one of the business men staring.

              Mortified that I had an audience, my cheeks began to warm and I quickly looked around the room. I lifted my bag from the floor and stood from the table so quickly, my chair screeched on the floor and my juice toppled over, covering my eggs and splashing up my legs. I stepped back and bumped into a waiter, sending the plates he had balancing on his arms flying across the floor.

              “I am so sorry,” I panicked, trying to help lift the plates.

              Another waiter had joined us, “It’s okay,” he assured, “we’ll get that.”

              I looked at the eyes glaring at me, my cheeks burned bright red and I ran, hurrying out of the restaurant to the lifts.

              “Miss,” a British man called out as he chased after me, “Miss.” He called again. I stopped at the lift and pressed the button. “Miss,” I turned to face him, it was the man who was staring. “You, you dropped your key.” He held out my key card in his hand and smiled. His dark blond hair was flicked over on one side and his warm brown eyes made my insides tremble a little bit.

              “I’m an idiot,” I frowned and snatched it from his hand. “Thank you.”

              “No, you’re not an idiot, we all have mishaps.”

              I shook my head, “I must be an idiot because these mishaps happen all of the time to me.” I sighed.

              “Come back and eat your breakfast.” He said softly.

              “No, I think I will eat in my room from now on.”

              “Oh, well that would be a shame,” he frowned.

              “Don’t worry, I am sure the hotel will have better entertainment than me.” I stated as the lift doors opened.

              “That maybe so, but I doubt they are as beautiful as you.”  My cheeks warmed again as the doors closed, he never took his eyes off me and inside, I shook. Whoever this man was, he said I was beautiful and that was something Kevin had never told me.

              After an hour of hiding in my room I decided to brave the downstairs and take a look at the pool the web page had boasted about. I put on my pink floral bikini and tied a sarong around my waist. Slipped my feet into my flip flops, grabbed my book and headed down to soak up the sun. My white body certainly needed to show signs of a tan and I wouldn’t get that in my room.

The pool area was practically deserted. An elderly couple sun bathed under an umbrella and I found a sun lounger quite close to the steps into the pool. I sat on the lounger and lift my legs, the turquoise sky above was cloudless and the sun beamed down reflecting off the water of the pool. After covering my body with sun lotion, I laid back and lifted my book.

              Lost in the story of Simone, a billionaire seducing her assistant against the wall of her office, I completely forgot to touch up my sun lotion and could already feel my skin burning.

              “I’d put on more sun cream if I were you.” A voice said breaking into my thoughts. I glanced up from the page and could barely make out the silhouette of a man standing above me.

              “I was just about to,” I flustered setting down the book and sitting up. When he stepped back slightly I could see he was the devastatingly, handsome chap who had saved me from more embarrassment that morning. I lifted my sun cream and aimed it at my pink arm, it squirted out all over my leg and covered his bare feet.

              “Seriously, I bring you your key after you knock the waiter with my breakfast causing him to drop it on the floor. I am now saving you from turning into a lobster and this is how you repay me, thanks a bunch.” He scoffed.