Authors: Katie Price
He's the One
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
About the Book
Can you ever forget your first love?
Liberty Evans hasn’t. She has a beautiful daughter, a successful career as an actress, and she’s married to one of Hollywood’s most powerful directors.
But behind the glamour, things are not what they seem. Her daughter Brooke is turning into a spoiled teenager, her husband controls everything she does, and Liberty longs for Cory, the man she loved before she became famous.
Unable to live a lie any longer, Liberty returns to England with a reluctant Brooke to start a new life. While her daughter has to cope with a massive lifestyle change, Liberty finds that she cannot get Cory out of her head.
But will he want her any more? Or will she have to accept that her first love belongs to the past?
About the Author
Katie Price is one of the UK’s most famous women. She is a successful businesswoman and a bestselling author, having published nine novels and four autobiographies. Katie is a Patron of Vision Charity which supports blind and visually impaired children, a role inspired by caring for her disabled son Harvey. Katie lives in Sussex with her new husband and three children. She is a keen horsewoman.
Also available by Katie Price
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Angel
Angel Uncovered
Paradise
Crystal
Sapphire
The Comeback Girl
In the Name of Love
Santa Baby
Non-Fiction
Being Jordan
Jordan: A Whole New World
Jordan: Pushed to the Limit
Standing Out
You Only Live Once
He’s The One
Katie Price
Part 1
Chapter 1
June 1999
Liberty was not having a good day. Her daughter Brooke had been up all the night before with a raging temperature, which meant Liberty barely had an hour’s sleep. She had started her shift at the restaurant – a popular Italian in Brighton – feeling like a zombie and no doubt looking like one too. And of all nights it would be a Saturday – the busiest of the week. She wouldn’t finish until after midnight.
She plastered on her best,
Hi, I’m your waitress, can I help you?
smile, which felt more like a grimace, and went over to the table by the window. There were six twenty-somethings sitting there, a mix of young men and women all out to enjoy themselves. Most likely they were going on to a club afterwards, or a film, or a party. Lucky, lucky them … Liberty tried not to let it get to her, but it had been a very long time since she’d been anywhere other than to her friend Em’s with a cheap bottle of wine and a video from Blockbusters. She was only twenty-one and sometimes felt that her mum, who was in her early-forties, had a far better
social life than she did. Plus she had a boyfriend, which was more than Liberty did. She may as well be wearing a sign round her neck that said,
Single, loser, game over
, because that was pretty much how she felt.
‘Hi, are you all ready to order?’ She was obviously wearing her invisibility cloak as they continued chatting, oblivious to her standing there. She was used to this as a waitress: you were either ignored or leered at. Very occasionally someone was actually polite.
She sighed and pulled the notepad out of the pocket of her black apron. If they didn’t get on with it she was likely to fall asleep standing up. She’d have to down a Red Bull to try and wake herself up, or a double espresso, or both.
Finally a young man noticed her.
‘Guys, we should order. Sorry to keep you waiting.’ His accent was American. He smiled at Liberty and, even feeling like one of the living dead she registered how strikingly handsome he was, with blue, blue eyes and dark blond hair. He had the look of a twenty-something Brad Pitt in
Thelma and Louise
– a film which she and Em had watched many times, rewinding a particular scene involving Mr Pitt. He was boyishly handsome and radiated confidence, his smile a reminder that life didn’t have to be so grim.
‘No problem at all.’ She smiled back, the most genuine smile she had managed all day. But hang on, she didn’t have a pen. She patted her pocket and felt around the neckline of her t-shirt. Bollocks! She was for ever losing pens. It drove Marco the manager absolutely crazy.
Good-looking gestured to his own face. What was he on about? Did she have a mark on her? Knowing her luck it would be a glob of Playdough courtesy of her daughter. She had once worked an entire shift
with half a breadstick in her hair, which Brooke had stuck there without her realizing. Not her best look. He tapped his ear. Oh, so that’s where her pen was. Nice of him to notice.
Liberty took down their orders for garlic bread – the men; green salad, no dressing – the three women; various pastas, pizzas, beers and wine and stifled a yawn. Shit, she ought to look more alert. At this rate she would end up with zero tips and she relied on the money from those to boost her low wages.
‘How many hours have you got to go?’ Good-looking asked her sympathetically. Nice of him to ask. Ninety-nine point nine per cent of her customers wouldn’t have.
‘Oh, I’ll finish about midnight.’ God, that was hours away!
‘Unlucky. And Saturday night as well.’
Liberty shrugged. Yeah, like she had so many other exciting places to be. She always worked on Saturday nights. The blonde girl next to Good-looking was listening intently to their conversation; she was probably wondering why her boyfriend was talking to a mere waitress.
‘Cory, can you order me a bottle of sparkling mineral water?’ the blonde asked in a cut-glass accent. She had beautiful tanned skin and glossy honey-blonde hair. Everything about her looked expensive. She drummed immaculately manicured nails on the table as she spoke. Liberty curled her fingers round her notepad. She had intended to paint her nails today but, when she’d finally sat down, Brooke had wanted to make cats out of Playdough and so Liberty was still wearing chipped pink nail varnish. She had at least managed to wash her hair, but with no time to dry it had tied it back in a messy ponytail. She thought she
might have put some mascara on, when she was on autopilot getting ready for her shift, but that was it, bar some lip balm.
He grinned at Liberty. ‘I guess you heard that. A bottle of sparkling mineral water, please.’
Cory … that was an unusual name, Liberty mused as she rushed back to the pass with the orders. She rather liked it. Though it hardly mattered what she thought. Good-looking Cory had a girlfriend.
But when she took the drinks over, and was pouring out glasses of wine, he again made a point of talking to her.
‘So do you work here all the time …’ he read her name badge … ‘Liberty? Cool name. Unusual.’
Embarrassing actually. Her mum Nina had wanted something striking for her daughter, but Liberty didn’t think the name suited her at all. It seemed a big name for someone with such a small life. And, ironically, her mum and lots of her friends had ended up calling her Libs.
‘Part-time.’
‘So what else do you do?’
Blondie was giving her the evil eye.
‘Well, I want to be an actress and I sometimes get modelling jobs.’ She tried not to think about how long ago it was since she had done any modelling … or how long since she’d had an audition.
‘Is this the Sauvignon Blanc we ordered?’ the blonde interrupted, holding up her glass. ‘It tastes funny.’
Liberty steeled herself for an argument. She knew there was nothing wrong with the wine, it was one of the most expensive ones on the list, but probably not good enough for high-maintenance Blondie.
Cory picked up her glass and took a sip. ‘It’s fine, Zara. You had that glass of champagne earlier, so it’s
probably the contrast.’ He looked at Liberty again. ‘So you’re an actress and a model?’ he continued. ‘I just knew it with your looks.’ He lowered his voice slightly. ‘You really do have the most incredible eyes I have ever seen.’
Liberty frowned. He was handsome and charming, and she appreciated the nice things he’d said – God knows they had been thin on the ground lately – but it was completely out of order for him to be saying those things when his girlfriend could hear everything.
‘Thanks, but maybe you’d better save your compliments for your girlfriend.’
And before he could reply Liberty whisked away to serve another table. Wanker! Coming on to her with the girl sitting right next to him. Unbelievable! She should be used to it by now – only last week some sleaze bag had written down his phone number on the receipt, while his wife was sitting there entertaining their toddler with a picture book.
She didn’t even look at Cory when she returned to their table with the garlic bread and salads and he didn’t say anything. He must have realised that he’d overstepped the mark. But when she was on her way to the bar to collect a drinks order he caught up with her.
‘Hey, I really didn’t mean to offend you.’
‘Don’t worry about me.’ Liberty folded her arms defensively. ‘What about your girlfriend?’
Cory shook his head. ‘I don’t have one. That’s Zara, she’s my ex-girlfriend. We’re just friends now.’
He might think that, but Liberty doubted Zara felt the same. He slid his hands into his pockets, and gazed at her. ‘And I don’t usually do this, but you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.’
He sounded completely genuine and Liberty
wasn’t easily taken in. Wow! Suddenly all the noise surrounding them – the chatter of the diners, the clinking of glasses, Celine Dion singing that her heart would go on – seemed to recede, until it was just the two of them, looking at each other. She was lost for words.
‘Look, I know you’re working, but a friend of mine is having a party and it will still be going on when you finish. I’d really like it if you came,’ he was saying.
