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Heiress to Waitress
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Cover design: Ginny Clyde
Cover Art Copyright 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Ginny Clyde. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted and reproduced in any manner or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or whatsoever without written permission of the author.
For information contact, Ginny Clyde.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Author’s note
About the Author
Blurb
When sixteen-year-old Olivia Buchannan’s father dies suddenly, her life is thrown into chaos. Her mother is forced out of their home by her uncle within weeks.
Olivia is torn from the high society world of Edinburgh and her beloved Academy to go live in a small town in Pennsylvania where her mother grew up. Life is not the same anymore, but she does her best to come to terms with her new circumstances.
As if there wasn’t enough struggle in her life already, a mysterious boy has taken up stalking her. Even though she tries to avoid him, he is always there to save the day. It wouldn’t be as bad if he didn’t make her heart race every time she was near him.
Discover the wonderful world of Bramble Wood’s Royal Tea Shop where romance, delectable pastries and hot tea are served up every day. This is a sweet and clean YA contemporary romance series that can be enjoyed by teens and adults alike!
Upcoming books in The Royal Teashop series
Fall’s Whisper
Winter’s Warmth
Summer’s Promise
To lovers of books and tea.
Chapter 1
The sound of weeping made me turn my gaze away from the window where I’d sat watching the low drizzling rain.
“Mother,” I said with difficulty as my own throat felt constricted.
Her small shoulders shook with the force of each sob. The handkerchief that she held close to her eyes was already too wet, leaving damp patches on her skin every time she dabbed the tears away. The crumpled black dress hung too loose on her bony frame. Her long blond hair fell in limp clumps around her shoulder, while her watery brown eyes wandered aimlessly around the room. Gulping for air, she said, “You don’t need to do this, Olivia. You can stay here. Your uncle loves you and will care for you.”
Until that moment, I’d been holding back my tears, refusing to give into my grief for her sake. Now, I felt anger pulsing through my veins.
“He’s no uncle of mine!” I replied in a heated tone. “I’d rather go to hell than live with him.”
“Olivia,” said Sarah, my mother. “This is the last chance you’ll ever have. Kelvin will not take you back once you decide to go with me. He’ll take it as a sign that you’re more Butler than Buchannan.”
Getting up from the window seat, I walked towards her. She watched me, her eyes wide with fear, like I would finally tell her to leave me behind.
“Don’t be stupid, Mother,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulder. At that moment, she looked so small and vulnerable as I towered over her. “My father is dead. Of course, I’ll go with the only parent I have left. It’s insane to even think he can part your children from you in such an underhanded way.”
“Oh, Olivia,” Mother cried, throwing herself at me. I stumbled backward but was soon steady as my mother continued to weep into my chest.
“Hey,” called a voice from the doorway. My fourteen-year-old brother, James, was peering at us through the gap left by the open door. We shared the same sunshine blond hair and green eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a denim jacket over a plaid shirt and sneakers. His short blonde spikes stood erect on his head. “Are you guys ready to go? The cab has arrived.”
“We’ll be downstairs. Have you carried your luggage by the gate?” I asked.
“Aye.” His head turned away towards the corridor and then back at us. “Uncle Kelvin is downstairs. Thought I’d let you know.”
I could feel my face distorting into a scowl. “Go on. We’re coming.”
I often called my parents with their names in my head. Both James and I attended boarding school and we would only be home during vacation times. Most of the kids at the Academy used their parents’ names when talking about them, so I suppose that is where I picked up the habit. However, in their presence, I was always respectful to them.
It was less than two weeks ago since my father passed away due to a sudden cardiac arrest. Both my brother and I were brought home from our boarding schools to attend the funeral. While my mother drowned in sorrow, my Uncle Kelvin, his brother, did not waste any time to acquire all the family wealth and properties. He moved quickly, not giving us a chance to put up any protests. He even made my mother sign away her rights to my father’s finances while she was too blind with tears to read the documents. She’d trusted him and he’d taken advantage of her.
It was no news to us that Uncle Kelvin didn’t get along with my mother. Father had married her while they were young and finishing university. My mother, Sarah, was an exchange student from the States who had come to Edinburgh for a study-abroad experience and ended up falling in love and marrying Scott Buchannan, my father.
Scott’s family was among the elite and affluent in Edinburgh who turned down their noses down on Sarah for being plain and insignificant. They had wanted him to marry someone rich, perhaps with a royal title, to increase their worth in the upper society. Sarah was a disappointment to both my uncle and my grandparents. My mother did her best to adapt, even forsaking her own family in America to prove her loyalty to the Buchannans, but it all seemed to have been for nothing. They attacked her the moment my father died.
Uncle Kelvin gave me and James the option to stay back. We could go back to school and nothing would change. We would receive the same monthly allowance as we usually did and a spot reserved for us at the best universities when we grew up. All he wanted in return was for us to sever all ties with our mother. Needless to say what we both chose. Sarah was kind-hearted and too trusting of everyone, but with all her faults, she was our mother and we loved her.
“Mother,” I said in a grave tone. When she looked up at me, I took my own handkerchief from my jacket pocket and wiped her face. Even though the moisture was gone, it was still red and blotchy from all the crying. “Don’t let him see you like this. Just hold it in until we get inside the cab.”
She let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
I glanced back towards the room that had been mine. Everything looked the same as the way I’d left it to go back to school at the end of the winter holidays. My vast bed was covered with a soft, creamy textured duvet and a patchwork quilt that Sarah made when I was ten. The tall shelf with a mini ladder resting on its side was filled with my collection of hardbacks. My walk-in wardrobe was beside it, boasting the best and most fashionable.
The suitcase standing beside the doorway was not big enough to carry any of that. It was not big enough to hold the home I was leaving behind. I ground my teeth to keep from crying while my heart crumbled to pieces.
To our luck, my mother was left with her parent’s house in a small town in t
he States. It was the only property my uncle was unable to snatch from her. We suspected he didn’t know about it until my mother said we were going there. My suitcase contained essential clothing, a thick photo album and a box of tokens that held my treasured memories.
“Olivia.”
“Coming,” I said with a sigh. Pulling up the handle on my case, I walked behind my mother to the end of the corridor and down the wide, sweeping staircase.
The house was empty. On a regular day, one or two maids would be about, but on that day, the halls were deserted. I caught a glimpse of Uncle Kelvin talking to James in hushed tones. His gray-streaked dark hair was slicked back from his wide forehead. The crisp navy blue suit was tailored to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim waist. His complexion was bronzed from his hours of playing golf under the hot summer sun. His strong resemblance to my father only made my heart heavier. I used to love the man until he decided to stab my mother in the back.
Uncle Kelvin looked up to see me approaching him.
“Olivia, you’re making a big mistake,” he said, his dark eyes boring into mine. “James is still too young to understand, but you’re more mature. Think what’s best for you.”
I was hoping for a simple, cold goodbye, but Uncle Kelvin was going to make one last attempt to stall me and my brother. He was gearing to make the best of the last opportunity to separate Sarah’s children from her. He would punish her by taking them away like she did with his brother.
“Enough, Uncle Kelvin. You can’t break our family just because Father is dead,” I said, doing my best to keep my temper and tears in control.
“I am your family,” he said with a hand on his heart. “I will look after you and your brother. You will have the finest education and the best life here. She can never give you any of that.” He turned his gaze at my mother. To my surprise, she was glaring back at him. With her reddened eyes, it had quite the effect.
“I am their mother!” she shouted. “My children want to stay with me. Stop wasting your breath trying to seduce them to stay back with the man who cheated and robbed their mother of her home.” Lifting her chin, she glanced towards me and James. “Come on, now. We have a plane to catch.”
I strode forward, following my mother and James. A black cab stood at the manor’s gate. We hurried towards it to get out of the rain. It was mid-August and the rolling gray clouds already seemed to announce the end of that summer. The cabbie helped us to put our bags and suitcases in the trunk before sliding the door open for us to get inside.
It was warm inside the cab, but a strange smell, like those of musty socks, pervaded the space.
“Airport, please,” I said to the driver.
He grunted and started the vehicle.
Sarah burst into tears when the car began moving. The man turned back to peer at us but didn’t ask questions. I turned my head to look back at the gray stoned manor which had been my home until now. Even though my own heart threatened to explode with pain and rage to be thrown out of there, I swallowed it up. I had to be strong for my mother.
James’s green eyes met mine. Even though he didn’t say anything, I could see the sadness and uncertainty of our future written across his young face. As I stared ahead to look at the busy city streets, my insides suddenly squirmed. Thoughts of how we would survive in a foreign country gripped me. Apart from the house, we would have some money from the savings that Sarah’s parents left behind for her. It was nothing compared to what we were used to, but it would be enough to get us by.
We also made some cash selling our trinkets. Sarah’s wedding ring fetched us the money to arrange our travels, along with the money to start over when we landed there. Most of the expensive jewels were locked in bank vaults that we could no longer access. Otherwise, we were truly poor.
Knightswood- the name of the town floated into my mind. My mother had never talked about it until recently. As far as I knew, it was located about twenty miles from Philadelphia. Sarah spoke of someone called Jonathan. He was a family friend who would be there to help us, but even that was a stranger’s name.
When we reached the airport, I let James and Sarah get the trolleys for our luggage. I looked up at the gray sky, letting the raindrops fall on my face. The cool breeze blew my sunshine-blond hair around my face. I breathed deep of the wet, cool air. Tears mingled with rainwater on my cheeks as I had no idea when we would be able to come back to Scotland again. The mournful tune of a distant bagpipe joined in song with my grieving heart.
“Come on,” said James, pulling me along. While I wiped my eyes on my jacket sleeve, he led me inside the airport.
I saw Sarah’s head turning every way to determine which way to go. Despite myself, I smiled a little. My mother was always so dependent on my father to take care of everything. If my father were around, she would have blankly followed his lead. She was trying to be brave and responsible for us now, and I felt pride surge through me at her attempt. James and I still had a parent to fend for us. Well, at least someone who was willing to try as I waited for Sarah to realize that the check-in booths were just some feet away.
“This way, Mother,” I said, after standing there for five minutes. “The British Airways check-in is right there.”
“Oh yes! Right under my nose, as they say.” She gave a short, nervous laugh.
James rolled his eyes at me.
Our flight had a stop-over at Heathrow, from where we sat through eight long hours until we reached the international airport in Philadelphia. I took the time to think about the life waiting for me in America. We would be starting all over from scratch. My mother’s skills in keeping a home were not something to be depended upon. James never bothered his head with anything other than hockey. I was left with no choice, but to make sure we made good decisions with our finances.
There were times I wished to cry like Sarah with absolute abandonment. I was already missing Strathmoore Academy which was like a second home to me. Apart from my friends, there was someone else to miss as well. Edward Holloway, I thought with a deep sigh. The dark-haired boy had asked me to be his girlfriend. The sudden proposal had left me tongue-tied and blushing furiously. We were supposed to give things a go this year when school started, but it was one of those things I would never get to experience. In my frustration, I kicked at the seat in front of me.
“Hey!” A bald, irritated man craned his neck to glare at me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes.
It was the first time I was not flying first-class. The chairs were horribly close together. It was not long before my legs began to cramp in the tiny space. I bit my tongue to force myself not to complain. We had to get used to making do with what we could afford.
I felt sheer relief when the aircraft landed. James was sleeping with headphones over his head, an animated movie still playing on the small screen in front of his seat. I had to nudge him hard several times to wake him up. My mother looked calm. I couldn’t help but think of her tears having dried up after crying all the way.
“Everyone all right?” asked Sarah as her red-rimmed eyes roved all over us.
“Yes, Mother. I just feel stiff from sitting in those seats,” I said, rolling my shoulders to ease the cramps.
While people jostled to hurry out of the cabin, Sarah called us back.
“We should hurry, Mother. If we miss our luggage, it will be a long time before we get them.”
“Yes. It’ll take just a minute.”
“Both of you be nice to Jonathan,” she said with a grim expression.
“We don’t even know the man,” said James in a long drawl. He often did that when he was tired.
“He’s a family friend! He’s fixed the house for us and taken care of a lot of things like the utilities and gas. He’s even coming to drive us to our home. So just…be nice.”
“Fine,” we muttered.
Satisfied, she let us collect our bags from the overhead carrier. We were among the last stragglers to get ou
t of the plane. Even the air hostess had gone back inside the cockpit to talk to the pilot.
A blast of warm air hit me as soon I stepped outside the aircraft. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, stretching over us without a single speck of cloud. On any normal day, this would have cheered me up. Now, it just made me miss the grayish Scottish skies with its skidding rain clouds and cool breezes.
“Move, Oli,” said James from behind me.
Pulling my bag higher on my shoulder, I walked forward and followed the line of passengers heading towards the glass building ahead. Few minutes in the warm Philadelphia sun made me want to remove my jacket. After collecting our suitcases, we headed for the immigration checks. By the time we were done, I was hot and thirsty.
“I’m going to buy something to drink,” I said as we walked towards the exit. “Want something, James?”
“Don’t buy it here,” said Sarah. “Wait till we get away from the airport.”
“Why?”
“Everything is way too expensive here. It’ll be cheaper to buy things outside. Just wait a little longer.”
“Oh.”
Swallowing dryly, I turned my gaze away from the chilled soda cans in their myriad colors and walked behind Sarah who was wheeling the trolley with our luggage.
A breeze blew by as we walked out of the exit gates and entered the crowded waiting area. Sarah swept her gaze through the hundreds of heads. After a few minutes of searching, her eyes fell on a tall, broad man in the distance with a cardboard sign saying “Sarah Butler”. A warm smile lit up her face.
James looked at me, his eyes reflecting my curiosity. We hadn’t seen our mother smile in weeks. She would fake smiles at the people who came to pay their respects when Father died, but they appeared more grimacing, lacking any true emotion. The sight of the stranger, however, brought genuine warmth in her. As we looked on, Sarah hollered, waving her hands in the air.
“Jonathan! Over here!” she shouted over the babbling crowd at the airport exit gate.