Loving The White Liar

COPYRIGHT © 2015 Kate Stewart

Editing by Edee M. Fallon, Mad Spark Editing

Cover Design & Formatting by Jersey Girl & Co.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/ or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 

Ebook Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

Dear Reader

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Epilogue

About The Author

Thank You

Excerpt from ROOM 212

Excerpt from NEVER ME

For my husband Nick, my love, my life, thank you

for the gift of your friendship and unwavering love.

I’m so proud of us.

They say to write what you know. When I started this book, I had every intention of personalizing it much more than I did. In fact, instead of telling my experience, I created a different world and different characters altogether. This story in almost no way resembles my own, but I will say the symptoms, emotions, and reactions portrayed very much do.

I am disclosing to you in advance that I am in no way an expert on ADHD or any other disorder. The people and scenarios in this book are entirely fictional and should not be interpreted as real in any way.

This is book is a result of living a decade as an ADHD partner, and is in no way a model for the diagnosis and treatment of the disorder itself.

That being said, I hope you love Jayden and Hilary’s story as much as I loved writing it...even the hard parts, because that’s what makes the good parts worth having.

- XO Kate

I met my true love when I was twenty-seven. He was handsome, charming, witty, and irresistible. Jayden Monroe came along when I was struggling with indecision and made things simple, turned monochrome into vivid color, and forever altered my perspective on life.

I was not naive enough to believe in happily ever after, but with Jayden, it seemed possible...until I realized something wasn’t quite right.

You see, I met a man who would be anyone I needed him to be, and after I found out that fact, I knew it would be impossible to walk away. His disorder, however, would change everything I ever thought about love and what it truly meant to accept someone for who they are.

This is not my sob story; this is his success story.

“Miss!”

For the love of Christ.

“Miss!”

Seriously, how much would they tip on a twenty-dollar tab?

“Miss!”

I was the worst waitress ever.

“Miss!”

“I’ll be right with you!” I shrieked, desperately pleading for just a minute of peace. I’d already visited that table no less than ten times in twenty minutes. They’d ordered grilled chicken salads. How high maintenance could that possibly be?

“Can we get more ranch?”

I looked down at the sea of ranch in her bowl that swallowed the sparse amount of green and sighed. Reluctantly heading to the kitchen, I grabbed the dressing, noting my best friend Gerri sitting on the counter glaring at her tip count. Gerri was short for Geraldine, a name she cursed her parents for repeatedly over the years.

“There really has to be more to life than this shit,” I said with a scowl as I opened the fridge, filling two cups of ranch and seeing through the double doors that the annoying patrons at my table were pushing their plates away. They’d never needed more of anything, except someone to order around. Those types of tables made it hard for me to maintain faith in the human race.

Gerri eyed me with slight fear. “I’m not going to make rent again. Might as well hit the bar.”

“No.” I shook my head as I walked past her. “No.” I gave her a sharp look before bursting through the double doors, check in hand, and the requested ranch.

“We don’t need it now,” one of the girls snapped, taking her ticket as I thanked them and walked away.

Ah, so she wanted to justify giving me a shitty tip. Nothing new.

“Leave a dollar, at least,” the other, more personable woman at the table scorned.

“You know I won’t. I don’t do charity.” I froze at the waitress stand when I heard those words. It took everything I had not to walk over to bitch slap the woman and shake out her three hundred dollar Coach purse for my charitable contribution.