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The Sweetest Revenge

By Lucy Felthouse


Text Copyright 2017 © Lucy Felthouse.


All Rights Reserved.


Smashwords edition.


With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the aforementioned author.


Warning: The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s written permission.


This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.


Cover by Studioenp—http://www.studioenp.com


Women kissing image copyright: rikke / 123RF Stock Photo


Blurb

Abigail’s had a crush on Mackenzie the motorcycle courier for months, but Mackenzie doesn’t even know she exists. Nothing exists for Mackenzie, though, except for her pride and joy—her Ducati Monster.

After an unpleasant encounter, Abigail decides to get her own back on Mackenzie—in the worst possible way. Despite the pleas of her colleagues, Abigail plans to hide Mackenzie’s precious motorbike, and take the haughty so and so down a peg or two.

Naturally, when Mackenzie discovers her bike is gone, there are fireworks. It’s April 1st, so she suspects trickery rather than criminal activity, but that doesn’t mean the person responsible will be getting off lightly...

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author

If You Enjoyed The Sweetest Revenge


Chapter One

As soon as she heard the roar of the engine, Abigail’s heart rate increased. She was able to recognise it at quite some distance now, and as it drew closer to her office building, she felt the vibrations beneath her feet.

Grabbing a handful of documents from the pile on her desk, Abigail headed over to the photocopier which stood by the window. That way, she could pretend she was duplicating paperwork, when in fact she was looking out of the window at the motorcycle and its rider.

And there she was. Mackenzie, in all her leather-clad glory, thundering into the car park. Her beautiful red hair flapped beneath the helmet, slowing to a stop as the motorcycle did. The Khaki-Green Mean Machine, as Abigail had nicknamed it, was as stunning as ever. Between them, rider and bike made a very attractive picture. One Abigail could quite happily look at all day long.

She realised she hadn’t actually made any attempt to photocopy anything yet, so she hastily shoved one of the pieces of paper under the lid, keyed in the command for thirty copies and pressed the green button. Then she was free to gaze out of the window for a good long while before anyone suspected anything.

Not that it was any big secret, anyway. The entire office knew of Abigail’s crush on the motorcycle courier, and she was often teased about it. The only reason she wasn’t being ribbed right there and then was because nobody else was tuned into the motorcycle’s engine noise frequency like she was—they wouldn’t realise Mackenzie was here unless they looked out of the window. Glancing behind her, Abigail saw that everyone was engrossed in what they were doing, so she could perv out of the window, completely undisturbed and without mockery.


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