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Love to Hate You , livre ebook

Boldwood Books - Camilla Isley

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150 pages

English

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Description

Goodbye New York! Hello… Cowboy?

If Samantha’s Baker’s life were as simple as one of the movies she produces, when she – a latte-loving city girl - gets banished to the country and fights with the local hunk cowboy soon afterwards they’d fall in love. But everyone knows the movies aren’t real life! (And just FYI, Mr Cowboy, it’s not gonna happen!)

Travis Hunt knows what it’s like to miss the city. He’s given up everything to take over the family ranch and become mayor of Emerald Creek. He has responsibilities. But how does he convince a gorgeous, hot-shot executive like Samantha to swap her stilettos for cowboy boots and her Friday night cocktails for country dance competitions? Small town life just can’t compete with all the hustle and bustle of New York City.

But what if it’s not where you are that you call home… What if it’s who you find while you’re there?

An opposites attract, fish-out-of-water rom-com perfect for fans of Sarah Adams and Mhairi McFarlane

Please note that this title was originally published as Sweet Love and Country Roads.

What readers are saying about Camilla Isley:

‘A fun read filled with humor, heart, and love big enough to reach...to the stars and back. Recommended read for Contemporary Romance, Chick-Lit, and Romantic Comedy fans. Get ready to be starstruck!’ Gina, Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers

‘It's not every day the female lead is revered more for her high intelligence, than her beauty. It was nice to see that dynamic between Lana and Christian...following what the heart wants. Sara, Chick Lit Central

‘I completely fell for Christian in this book and it's been ages since I last felt like this about a book boyfriend.’ Rachel, Rachel Random Reads

‘I adored these characters. Penned in my favorite dual POV, the writing style was crisp and engaging, yet also perceptive and loaded with wry wit and clever touches. I zipped through their star-crossed storylines.’ Honolulubelle, Books & Bindings

‘Cute, sweet, and fun!’ Zoe, What's Better Than Books?

'This book had me smiling away to myself!! It has the perfect mixture of sweet, passion, drama and courage!' Michelle, Come Read With Me

‘A fantastic romantic read that I devoured in one sitting.’ Kay, Coffee and Kindle Book Reviews

‘An addictive page turner with an absolutely wonderful meet-cute.’ Julie, Romantic Reads and Such

‘You can definitely feel the chemistry between main characters. They're so different but perfect for each other. An adorable rom-com that made me smile a lot.’ San, Behind the Sentence

Sujets

Western

Fiction

Romance

Family Life

Southern

International

Contemporary

États-Unis

General

The Women

Woman

General officer

Southern United States

Romantic Comedy

Contemporary history

Friendship

21st century

USA

Women

Informations

Publié par	Boldwood Books
Date de parution	10 août 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781837519736
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,2050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

LOVE TO HATE YOU

CAMILLA ISLEY
To all long-distance couples, may you find your happily ever after…
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

Epilogue

Author’s Note

More from Camilla Isley

About the Author

Also by Camilla Isley

About Boldwood Books
1
BITTER PILLS MAY HAVE BLESSED EFFECTS

Dread fills me as I ask my boss to repeat himself, because I can’t possibly have heard him right.
See, certain things are annoying. Bad hair days. Not enough vanilla syrup in my latte. Pen clicking. Hiccups.
Then there’s the truly hateful stuff. Cars that take up two parking spaces. People who read over my shoulder. Slow Wi-Fi. Humblebraggers.
And finally, there are the things with the potential to ruin my life forever, like the words about to exit Winthrop Cargill-MacMillan’s mouth.
The head of Denouement Studios, the movie production company I work for, is presently holding my happiness in the palm of his hand and he’s about to close his fist and squeeze.
Winthrop flares his nostrils. “I said I want you to move to Emerald Creek for the duration of filming, not fly over for a quick fix.”
Yep, I’d heard him right the first time.
“But shooting will last at least three more months,” I protest. “If I can settle things in a few days, I don’t see why I should stay on location. I can always return should other issues—”
Winthrop bangs a fist on his desk so hard even the sturdy window panes of his Manhattan fiftieth floor office might’ve rattled. “We can’t afford anything else to go wrong!” he shouts. Then, taking a steadying breath, he adds, “Three months is all it should’ve taken to wrap up the project. Instead, we’re already a month in and still deep in the weeds. For goodness’ sake, they haven’t shot a single scene in the past week.” He points a finger at me. “Samantha, I’m tired of hearing excuses. You can either pack your bags and move to Indiana or pack your office.”
I’m so shocked by the finger-pointing and by Winthrop’s threat to fire me, I don’t know what to say.
Thankfully, my boss seems to realize he’s gone too far and backtracks right away. “Sorry, Sam, I didn’t mean to threaten you. But we’re hemorrhaging money on this movie and we can’t afford to lose another penny. Not after the last couple of years,” he says, referring to the global pandemic that stopped movie productions worldwide, kept movie theaters’ doors shut for months, pushed new movie releases forward by one or two years, and left many film studios with serious cash flow issues. “Please,” Winthrop continues, “I need you to make sure everything goes smoothly down there.”
The carrot always works better than the stick with me… I swallow hard and regretfully agree to a three-month sentence in hell.
“Oh, come on,” Winthrop says as I’m about to leave his office, “Emerald Creek isn’t Siberia, and a few months of country life might even put a little natural color in those cheeks of yours.”
Ah, easy for him to say when he’ll still be living within walking distance of a Nobu. And what does he have against my Too Faced Papa Don’t Peach blush, anyway?

* * *
Dazed, I stumble on my stilettos as I walk down the hall toward my office. The temporary relocation is making me dizzier than a third round of Cosmopolitans would.
As I reach my door, I beckon Celia, my assistant, to follow me inside. She eagerly scurries up from her desk and comes in behind me.
“Please close the door,” I say as I collapse on my white leather swivel chair.
Celia eyes me with a worried expression— as she should —awkwardly standing a few feet from the desk.
“Please sit down.” I gesture to the two empty chairs in front of her.
I sigh, ready to relate the awful news, when she says, “Oh my gosh, you’re firing me.” I close my mouth as she goes on, “I know the company isn’t doing well. I have a friend in accounting,” she explains. “But I never imagined layoffs were a possibility. Are the studios going under? Is everyone fired? What am I going to do now? I’ve still got a ton of student loans to pay—”
I raise a hand to stop her. “Celia, you’re not fired.”
She fans herself. “Oh, thank goodness.” Still a little out of breath, she adds, “Okay, tell me what it is then, because this is the first closed-door meeting we’ve held since you hired me three years ago.”
I don a reassuring smile. After a job-loss scare, a transfer to Indiana will sound marginally less horrific. Or at least so I keep telling myself.
“It’s about Love to Hate You. ” Celia nods intently, hanging on my every word. “Winthrop has asked me to bring the filming back on track. And he feels the only way to achieve that goal is if I’m on-site for the entire duration of shooting.”
Celia’s hand goes to her chest. “You’re moving to Indiana?”
I give her a steady look. “ We are moving to Indiana.”
The expression of horror on Celia’s face deepens, and she couldn’t have a more sympathetic audience than me. But the decision is made, and I don’t allow her time to hope she might get out of coming with me. Instead, I carry on to the practical aspects of organizing the move.
“Do you have anything major planned in the next three months?”
Celia swallows. “My sister’s baby shower is in two weeks.”
“Then you’d better give her your present sooner.” Before she can protest, I add, “You can take the day of the shower off and follow the event on Zoom. Everyone’s used to digital events. Your sister won’t even notice you aren’t there in the flesh. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Good. I need you to book the plane tickets and hotel rooms.”
“When do you want to fly out?”
As expected, she has heroically accepted her destiny and turned businesslike.
“Sunday, the earliest flight you can find. We’ll need half a day to settle in before we tackle the production team on Monday.”
“You mean this Sunday, like in three days?”
“Yes, why? Did you have plans?”
“A Tinder date, but I can cancel.”
“Great,” I say. “Take tomorrow off to pack or sort anything else you might’ve planned outside of Tinder and say goodbye to the city. I sure will. The sooner we leave, the quicker we can return. And, Celia—” Here comes her carrot. “You want to be a producer one day?”
“Yes.”
“Great, this will be a unique opportunity to gain in-the-field experience and build up your resume.”

* * *
As I walk home from work, I search Emerald Creek, Indiana, on my phone. I usually take a cab, but today I’m skipping the ride in favor of a last stroll among the streets of my beloved New York City. I wait expectantly for the search results to load, but even the map app has trouble finding that speck of dirt in the world. To find a major nearby city, I have to zoom out six or seven times, and the closest result is Indianapolis.
What’s in Indianapolis? Are they famous for anything other than the racetrack?
With a longing glance at Bloomingdale’s bright summer clothing windows, I curse myself for the hundredth time for approving Indiana as the shooting location for Love to Hate You. The movie will be my next romantic comedy blockbuster, assuming I can get the filming completed. And on paper, Emerald Creek looked perfect. The small town had all the features I needed: a lake, a quaint city center, endless fields, and it was cheap as hell compared to other sites. But now that I have to move there for three months, I’m wondering why the ranch we rented as the primary setting lowballed the rest by so much. Is the area so vile no one wants to live there?
I’m going to find out soon. I put the phone away and navigate the pedestrian-packed sidewalks, enjoying the view of tall skyscrapers, high-end hotels, and shops. My heart breaks a little more with each step forward as I say goodbye to my one true love: Manhattan.
At home, I kick off my shoes in the hall and move into the open kitchen to pull a bottle of white wine out of the fridge. As I work on removing the cork, I drop my phone on the countertop, shooting a group call to my two best friends.
Taylor picks up first. “Sam, what’s up?”
“I just got home from work and I need moral support.”
A short pause. “You left the office before eight? Are you ill?”
“Worse.”
That’s when Holly joins the call. “Hellooo—aaargh.” A dreadful crashing noise comes through the speakers, then silence, scuffling, then Holly is back. “Sorry, I dropped my phone. What’s up? Why are we having a three-way call in the middle of the afternoon on a random Thursday? Is someone dead?”
“Sam is home from work,” Taylor replies.
“Then someone is definitely dead,” Holly concludes.
“Not just yet,” I say. “Maybe soon.” I pour myself a huge glass of wine.
At the telltale glug-glug-glug sound, Holly nails me immediately. “Are you at home drinking in the middle of the day?”
“Four o’clock is hardly the middle of the day,” I retort.
“Come on,” Taylor cries out. “The suspense is killing us. What happened?”
“I have to move to Indiana,” I say, and take a long sip of wine.
Dead silence fills the line.
“Girls, are you still there?”
They recover from the shock at the same time and fire questions at me.
“For how long?” Taylor.
“Why?” Holly.
“Two to three months to supervise the production of my latest movie. Filming has fallen behind and Winthrop got tired of hearing excuses, so he sent his attack dog—aka me—to fix the mess. Apparently, the location manager and his two assistants can’t manage on their own. This is punishment for being good at my job.”
Taylor speaks first. “Well, three months isn’t so bad. You’ll be back just in time for Labor Day. And summer in New York sucks.”
“No season sucks in New