Behind Red Lips

M. R. Smith

Description

Charlotte is afraid of love and of life.

Her confidantes are a rubber duck and a diary she calls Rajah. She tiptoes on the edge of the love cliff, but to her an imaginary love life is safer than taking the plunge with a real one. She dreams about men who remind her of her long lost love, Mason, yet when she bumps into him she panics and runs away.

Her heart crushed by a long-ago betrayal, Charlotte cannot find happiness unless she confronts the ghosts of her past and deals with the realities of the present.

This touching love story wends its way through the ups and downs of Charlotte's life as she tries to deal with her emotional problems and find a way to heal her broken heart.

Sujets

• Humorous
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 25 avril 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456624880
• Langue: English

Extrait

Behind Red Lips
 
By
M.R Smith
 
 
 
A perfect, must-read, love story
- First Editing
Copyright © M.R. Smith 2018–2021
1st Edition
Published by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2488-0
The authors assert the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the authors of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the authors, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
 
Acknowledgments
Sincere thanks to all who assisted me with the development of ‘ Behind Red Lips’ which is purely fictional and which has no reference to anybody living or dead.
Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who encouraged me to write this story, including my editors and proofreaders. Special thanks to my daughter Liezil, for her role as co-writer.
We would like to thank Godfrey, a loving husband and father, for his patience, love and support throughout our adventure and being there when we needed him most, especially during the stressful moments.
Last but not least; thanks to the universe and the Creator for giving us the ability to live and strive through adversity.
Table of 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
 
C hapter 1

T he young professional walking down Rokeby Road, Subiaco, well knew the impact of her crimson red lipstick and black sunglasses. Her olive skin glowed with a breathtaking radiance, and her long, dark brown curls were pulled back. She seemed like a starlet of yesteryear, and she moved with a confidence that commanded respect.
This was how the young woman appeared to the world, while another lurked behind the sunglasses and red lipstick .
The road was the usual hustle and bustle, filled with lunchtime diners going about in groups, so she was not at all surprised to see that Café Luigi ’s was busy when she entered.
“ Hi, Charlotte! ” the excited waitress carrying a lasagna out to the café courtyard called out to her. The waiters and waitresses, in their khaki cords, crisp white shirts, and black aprons, moved about the café with an energy that Charlotte had never seen duplicated anywhere else.
She smiled back at the waitress, Lucy. Charlotte loved Luigi’s, and it wasn’t only because the meals were tasty and affordable; it was for the music and the people who frequented the place. Most days the café played classical Mediterranean tunes; today it was contemporary jazz, featuring sultry female singers. She found herself lost in the world of Marilyn Monroe’ s ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’ s Best Friend. ’ Yes, it was definitely her favorite lunchtime haunt in the area.
After waiting a couple of minutes at the counter, Charlotte placed her order and was handed her table number. She laughed when she saw it and thought of how most people, even those who weren’t superstitious, believed the number 13 to be unlucky. In fact, she’d had a lot of positive experiences with it, like the day she experienced her first kiss and the day she landed her first job. She surveyed the area for a vacant table. Less confident than she appeared, she quickly moved to a corner table close to the window where she could see the comings and goings, yet still be slightly hidden.
She carefully removed her suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. She left her sunglasses on for two reasons; to keep the glare out of her eyes, and to eyeball the unsuspecting.
Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her red lipstick and carefully applied it. She was never satisfied with the way she looked. Besides, reapplying her lipstick was a ritual she needed to do; it relaxed her. She felt incomplete without it, even when she was just about to tuck into a meal.
Turning her head slightly, Charlotte noticed two young men in their late twenties to mid-thirties, sitting together at a smaller table close to the exit. One was facing her, and the other had his back to her. They were both wearing business suits and she wondered whether they worked in one of the larger office blocks or companies close to where she was employed. Charlotte caught the eye of the guy facing her, who quickly looked away. Shite, was that Mason? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She snuck another quick peek, forgetting that, thanks to her sunglasses, she could probably have taken a longer look. He looked just like Mason, but it couldn’t be him, could it?
“Here you go,” the waiter said, startling Charlotte as he put her lunch on the table. Charlotte turned to thank him.
When she looked over at the table again, she caught the young man glancing back in her direction. He smiled slightly and she caught herself returning the smile. He would look at her, she would look at him, and they would exchange shy smiles and the stare dance would begin again. The shy smiles were a nice way to make her lunch more exciting, but when she looked at her watch, she realized she needed to hurry up if she still wanted to check out the new season’s arrivals at the shoe boutique across the road.
She began to eat her salad more carefully, aware that someone was watching her. She took small bites and chewed slowly, dabbing her mouth between bites to ensure her lipstick stayed in place as much as possible.
Lifting her head up again, Charlotte caught the young man in the suit looking her way once more. She was curious to know who he was and why he kept staring at her. Perhaps they had met somewhere before? He didn’t look like any pervert. Charlotte knew the difference between the Casanovas and the Genuine; women usually did.
She had to find out who he was, but how? Thoughts twirled around her head: a man —a good-looking man; a strong man. I think I like this man .
Maybe he’d seen her before, or had even come into PAS206, the art gallery where she worked. Many people who worked in the area and knew of the gallery often ventured in, especially if they got word that a famous artist was exhibiting.
She cringed as the tightness built up in her chest, making her hands sweaty. Taking a few short, slow breaths, she wiped her hands with a tissue and repeated to herself, I am calm, I am calm, I am calm.
She patted her mouth and applied some more red lipstick, and then stood up to remove her jacket from the chair and put it on. Fiddling in her handbag for a few seconds she found her flowered scarf and flung it around her neck. Certain that he was watching her and flustered at the thought, she removed her sunglasses to clean her lenses and placed them back on her head rather than her face before making a rush to the door.
“Hello? Miss? You dropped your scarf.”
Not realizing that the voice was talking to her, Charlotte didn’t turn around at first, but a moment later she became conscious that her scarf was gone.
She turned and saw an arm holding out the scarf. “Oh, thanks,” she said and then looked up. It was the man from the other table, the one who had been doing the stare dance with her.
For a moment, Charlotte felt stunned. He had an athletic physique and wasn’t too tall or too short. His dark hair framed his face, which was all lit up and which in turn brought out the sparkle in his eyes. There was gentleness in his voice, too; yes, he did remind her of Mason. It was as if she was stepping into her past. His brown eyes looked deeply into hers, and although she wanted to say something, she couldn’t seem to think of anything coherent.
Not since her silent departure from Mason had she felt quite like this. Nothing had stirred her up this much…and she didn’t like the feeling at all.
Blushing, she thanked him again, with a calmness that surprised even her. She placed her glasses back onto her face and hurried out of the café, so bedazzled that she nearly tripped on the sidewalk as she made her way to the shoe store across the street. She glanced back briefly with the pretense that she thought she had dropped something. It was, instead, to see if the mysterious guy was following her. She hoped he was.
I have to meet that guy, she thought. There’s just something about him . She shook her head and carried on walking across the road. At least her work day would be more exciting now, her head filled with the image of the handsome and courteous man.
****
The young man continued to watch her as she left. He couldn’t believe how attracted he was to this woman. Her slim figure was highlighted in the smart charcoal pinstripe suit.
“Who was that?” he asked his friend, still feeling the silk scarf between his fingertips, even though it was now securely tucked around Charlotte’ s neck. “Never seen her around this area before. I need to meet her.”
“Oh, I’ve seen her around,” the other man said. “I think she works at PAS206.”
With a twinkle in his eye, the handsome young man smiled. “Really?” He took out a notepad and wrote down the name of the company where the mysterious woman with the flowered scarf and red lipstick worked.
C hapter 2

S ighing, and snapping out of her fantasy and back into reality, Charlotte walked down the road to find her own workplace at PAS206.
 
“How was lunch?” Mandy asked without looking up.
“What?” Charlotte was still in the midst of h