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Love is the Drug
Ashley Croft
It’s all in the chemistry…Sisters Sarah and Molly are close, but they couldn’t be more different. Sarah runs a craft business and is obsessed with all things shiny and glam, whilst Molly is much more at home in her white coat and goggles, working in a science lab.When Molly is put onto a new assignment, she’s over the moon. It’s a high-profile, top secret project – and she has a handsome new boss to ogle at when she’s not bending over a petri dish…But when Sarah finds herself on the painful end of a disastrous break-up, no amount of Ben & Jerry’s or trashy rom-coms can cheer her up. She wants to take a more drastic approach to dealing with her heartbreak, and one that only her sister – and perhaps a sprinkle of science – can help with . . .Will Sarah find love where she least expects it, or is it really all in the chemistry?
The Love Solution
ASHLEY CROFT
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Phillipa Ashley 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com (http://shutterstock.com)
Emojis © Shutterstock.com (http://shutterstock.com)
Philippa Ashley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008294885
Ebook Edition © August 2019 ISBN: 9780008294878
Version: 2019-07-15
For my dear friend, Janice Hume, and in memory of her sister, Alison
For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.
Christina Rossetti
Table of Contents
Cover (#uff561e34-eecd-5577-816d-1e37b5431bf7)
Title Page (#ua0f1905c-eeba-5e09-9100-93b94548212f)
Copyright (#u65cc74f2-03b2-5976-b216-ff06d331911d)
Dedication (#uf2b97726-8dcb-5713-aa7c-c9cdcec3d908)
Epigraph (#ue093899e-7b60-54fb-a0e7-16201a1a3851)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Acknowledgements
Keep Reading …
About the Author
Discover More by Phillipa Ashley
About the Publisher
PROLOGUE (#ucff8f2dd-748b-53af-8320-90e396184d85)
‘Sarah. I’m sure you’ll think this is a very stupid question, but have you any idea what your sister is doing crawling under the rhododendrons?’
Sarah Havers sighed and put down the earring she’d been trying to finish for the past hour. One was already complete and lay on the felt mat on the kitchen table. The earrings were delicate drops fitted with three tiny shells in summery blues and seaweedy greens. Sarah was making them for her sister Molly’s birthday, although Molly – currently stuck under a bush in the garden – didn’t know it.
Their mother, Naomi, was standing in the open doorway that led from the kitchen to the rear garden of their house. It was early April but her mum was wearing a silky shift dress and a thin cropped jacket and the chilly evening breeze – which blew straight from the Urals to Cambridge, according to an urban myth – was making Sarah’s fingers too cold to work.
Her mum peered into the lengthening shadows of the garden. ‘Oh no, she’s disappeared now. We’re going to be late.’ She stepped down onto the patio. ‘Molly Jane Havers! Come out of there this minute.’
Trying to block out the noise, Sarah picked up the earring and focused on teasing shut the wire loop with her pliers. Even though she’d made countless pairs, the job still required concentration and all the distractions were doing her head in. On the other hand, it was fun to hear her younger sister treated like a toddler.
Their mother groaned in frustration. ‘What on earth is she doing out there?’
‘Trying to catch a frog, probably,’ Sarah muttered, sticking out her tongue in concentration as she focused on the earring. The loop was almost closed. One. More. Tiny … tweak would do it.
‘A frog? God, no. What does she want a frog for?’
‘Dunno. I think she wants to cut it up at school.’
‘What? You’re joking?’
Sarah cursed as her pliers crushed the delicate wire into a pretzel. ‘Oh, shit!’
‘Sarah, stop swearing,’ her mother called but she was already on her way onto the lawn. Her voice rose higher. ‘Molly! Stop that. Leave that poor creature alone.’
With a sigh, Sarah laid down her pliers next to the wire and beads. She should really be revising for her upcoming A levels, but creating jewellery from shimmering shells and beads was far more fascinating than poring over Business Studies papers. She got up and stood in the doorway, peering out into the shadows.
Her mum’s new heels sank into the turf as she tottered over to the bush, which Molly was crawling out of backwards like a demented crab. Sarah rolled her eyes as her sister scrambled to her feet, brushing blossom and leaves from a sweatshirt with a graphic photo of a giant tarantula on the chest.
