New Fair Lady

By Mica Le Fox

Supermarket delivery driver Elise discovers that writer Chloe Redding is on her friend Marc's delivery schedule. She's read all her books and is a big fan, so she bribes Marc with a Hershey bar and takes Chloe's groceries to her beautiful house to meet her. But the author is now a drunk divorcee, has panic attacks and hasn't written anything of value for years. Elise observes her, puts her shopping away, then makes her some coffee to sober her up.

Next week Chloe's food order hits the system again, so another Hershey bar later, Elise is back with a second delivery... and this time cooks for the author.

As well as beautiful, Elise is smart, outspoken and tells Chloe exactly what she thinks of her and the writer is outraged at this delivery girl's rudeness... but then again she's also quietly impressed with her honest and caring attention... and surely that's not attraction she's starting to feel, is it?

At first, Elise is just being human and wants to help her hero, who's at a low ebb, to get back on her feet. But Chloe invites her to be her guest at a talk she has to give to an audience at the university - to 'hold her hand' in case her anxiety gets on top of her - and a comforting hug during a panic attack in an empty office turns into rather more.

It's a story of a romance between two women from very different walks of life that is torn apart by an author's instinct to use Elise's background and character in her writing. It works for her as a novelist and her new book is successful, but her life unravels when she loses Elise, who's understandably very upset at her lover's cynical betrayal.

But it's not the end of the story and Chloe fights to win her back... with dramatic consequences.

There is passion, courage and many turns in this contemporary love story... expect some adult content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mica Le Fox
• Release date: Jan 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463318140

Mica Le Fox

Totally out of my depth at an academic school I mercifully discovered I could draw and blagged my way into a career in advertising and visual arts. So far, so not too bad. It's been OK, but writing has been part of my remit and I've always itched to do more, so here I am, blagging my way into book writing. It's all fiction. Fiction is often way better than real life and I spend most of my time thinking things up. But I will never try to make you accept the completely unbelievable. If you watch, say, science fiction on TV, it's alright to 'suspend your disbelief' - I do - but not to accept the unbelievable. I hope my books will introduce to you human characters (mostly) with ordinary human emotions and fallibilities. I especially like fallibilities... they are the most interesting thing about us all and certainly the best to write about. I want you to have a booky window on people sometimes making mistakes... maybe sometimes getting it right as well. And I will try to make you feel what they do, you know, like you are in their shoes... well, unless they're undressed of course. Whether I do all this well is another matter, I only write these stories so I have no idea. Anyway, it's for you to decide. Buy the books and let me know. Ha! Blagging again.

Book preview

New Fair Lady

By Mica Le Fox

Copyright 2018 Mica Le Fox

Published by Mica Le Fox at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Chapter 1

Elise pulled into the drive, tyres announcing her van’s arrival on the gravel in front of the strikingly modern, single storey house, its white plastered walls bright in the afternoon sunlight.

She rang the doorbell, then walked back to the van, opening the back door to slide out a crate from the middle rack and carried it to the front door.

No answer.

Propping the crate against the wall to free a hand, she rang again, standing on tiptoes to peer through the glass porthole in the door.

After a few seconds, Elise walked back to the van, then changed her mind and with just a moment’s hesitation, made her way around to the side of the house where a pathway led along the side wall to the back. At the rear of the property, she found a large and beautiful garden with an expansive lawned area surrounded by trees and shrubs. Overlooking a swimming pool set into a step-down level, the french windows were wide open to the kitchen inside.

Hello.

She stood in the doorway, reluctant to cross the threshold of a stranger’s property. However, the heaviness of the crate full of groceries decided the matter and she stepped inside, taking three more paces to lay the box on the counter top whilst looking around at the empty kitchen. At some point it might have merited a home fashion magazine shoot. Now it was edging shabby - real shabby rather than chic shabby and Elise wrinkled her nose at the stale, musty smell in the air despite the open doors. It was the type of house that would normally have a cleaner coming in regularly - this one clearly did not... or they were shirking their work and getting away with it.

From where she stood, she could see through an arch into an adjoining room in which there was a sofa facing her. On the sofa she could see the form of a woman lying full length on her side, her cheek resting on the edge of the seat cushion and an arm dangled over the side with her fingers touching a glass on the floor.

Ms Redding. Elise called through the archway, but there was no response from the figure on the couch.

She considered putting the groceries away and leaving, but something told her that it would be a shock to someone who may be awoken - she assumed the woman was asleep - by the clatter of a strange girl rummaging around her kitchen like she owned the place. And there was something about the position of the woman’s body that made her feel uneasy. What if she were sick? She summoned up her courage and walked into the adjoining room. When she got to the couch, she could see the half empty bottle of Tequila and an open can of Coca Cola on the low table, and Elise looked down at a face she knew well.

. . .

Come on Marc, do this just for me. Elise had wheedled with her fellow delivery driver to swop his route with her after discovering it included the home of Chloe Redding. I would make it worth your while.

Marc’s eyes widened. You mean with, like, a date followed by us making out in my car?

Elise put her head on one side in and glared in mock disgust. Not quite that much worth your while, Marc. I was thinking more like a Hershey bar - a big one, you choose the flavour.

Disappointing Elise. Anyway, who the fuck is she? What makes her worth a large Hershey bar?

Marc, it’s Chloe Redding.

Marc’s expression remained fixed in an unblinking stare.

She’s a novelist. A famous one. Well, not famous like Hemingway, she qualified. But she’s good.

Marc raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly.

She wrote ‘A Rage of Solitude’. Elise gave him the information with now dimming enthusiasm.

Marc continued to look at her unspeaking for a second or two more, then he said, Cookies ‘n’ Crème six-and-a-half-ounce-pack.

Elise rolled her eyes. OK.

She had read all five of Redding’s novels in high school, the debut and follow-up making a real impression on her with their well-crafted, spare but elegantly moving prose. The three subsequent books she found disappointingly average, but for a girl whose heart could be made to race by words strung together beautifully, Redding was guaranteed a position of reverence simply on the basis of a world class debut and sophomore.

Anyway, I’m a Harlan Coben sort of guy.

. . .

Ms Redding. She said the name again, more quietly this time. Are you OK?

The woman stirred at the voice and opened her eyes, her first very static line of vision at Elise’s legs. She moved her head slightly to look up at the girl standing on the other side of the coffee table and took a few moments to focus.

Who are you?

It’s your grocery delivery from Machin’s... my name’s Elise Fernández.

Chloe Redding sat up. Her head swam and she wanted to slide back down as flat as she could on the couch, but lowered her head onto the back rest instead.

Delivery? Her brain was processing very slowly through a thick fog.

Yes. Your groceries order. Elise indicated the kitchen. It’s on the counter, but I can put it away for you.

Groceries... An alien concept to Redding, it seemed. Yes, of course. I’ll come through.

The writer attempted to stand, but the action was ambitious and she stumbled forward slightly, bumping into the low table and clattering the bottle and can. Elise stepped quickly around the table and took Chloe’s arm to steady her.

I’m OK. I’ve just... woken up. Need a moment.

That’s OK, Ms Redding. Take your time. I can do it all for you if you want.

Yes, please. Would you do that.

Of course. Leave it to me. Still holding her arm, Elise examined Chloe’s face close up for the first time. She thought she might be in her early thirties, clearly pretty although devoid of make-up and her skin was drawn a little too tightly over her cheekbones, giving her a slightly skeletal look. Her eyes were a pale brown, almost amber and very clear although, again, sunken just a bit too deeply into her a skull for healthy beauty.

Are you alright, now? Elise was slightly reluctant to let her go.

Chloe Redding nodded, her mind and body appearing to gather themselves reluctantly into some kind of unity, so Elise let her go and after a moment’s pause walked out to the kitchen, followed more slowly by the novelist. As the delivery girl began unpacking the plastic crate, Chloe stood leaning on the work surface watching her. Elise opened the fridge and, noticing that it was almost empty, put away the chilled items and vegetables.

Looks like I’m just in time, Elise joked.

Chloe gave a weak smile. Mmm. I’ve been out a lot recently... I’ve just been bringing in what I need.

Elise smiled back and started on the cupboard-stored items thinking, yeah, but you haven’t even got the basics. No milk, no eggs, no bread, no nothing. She finished, leaving a pack of coffee on the work surface.

Ms Redding... Elise hesitated. Would you like me to make some coffee for you? I mean... as you’ve got a pack here and I’ve got ten minutes to spare.

Chloe looked at the girl standing at the table and smiled. Elise now perceived much more focus and knowingness in Chloe’s face and her smile was warm.

Now that’s a good delivery service.

Laughing, Elise said, I don’t think Billy Machin quite had this in mind for his customer service principles, but let’s not quibble. She paused and glanced at Chloe quickly, sudden doubt clouding over her face. I hope you don’t think I was inviting myself for coffee. I only meant coffee for you.

Yes, I know what you meant and I would love some coffee... Elise... did you say your name was? The girl nodded as Chloe continued, it’s a pretty name.

"Thanks. My Mom’s