The Paris Roommates (Book 1) by Ava Miles EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Ava Miles
- Language: English
- Genre: Friendship Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Paris was a city full of what could have beens.
What could have been if ten years ago she’d stayed instead of
returning to her hometown of Nowheresville, USA? What could
have been if she’d gone for it instead of playing it safe?
There was no way of knowing, but this time Thea Rogers was
determined to have it all.
Even if she was a sour mixture of exhaustion, worry, and fear sitting
awkwardly alone at her favorite old haunt, Café Fitzy, decked out in
wrinkled travel clothes and glaringly white tennis shoes with her outdated
blue suitcase jammed next to her tiny corner table.
The August sun was beating down on her, keeping her skin damp with
sweat, a constant state since she’d landed at CDG airport and taken the
maze-like public transportation nightmare jammed with other grumpy,
rumpled passengers. After the plane from Des Moines, Iowa, to Chicago
and then on to Paris, she’d had to navigate who-knew-how-many Métro
transits to make it to the heart of Saint-Germain.
The hour and a half transit had been a nightmare, and dragging her
suitcase while needing to pee had been agony, until she’d broken down and
stopped at her old favorite café for a coffee so she could use the bathroom.
If the waiter ever gave her the time of day and took her order. She didn’t see
Antoine, the owner, who used to be a friend, and her chest grew tight. She
could have used a friendly face right now.
Maybe it was the jet lag, lack of sleep, or the worry coiled up inside of
her, but she was so sensitive, she swore everyone was staring at her as she
sat there. The chic Parisian women smoking gracefully as they conversed in
sultry French had their eyebrows raised her way, as if they were hoping she
would leave. She could all hear them thinking that she was taking up space.
Totally gauche. A rutabaga in a sea of exotic fruits.
If only they knew she’d once lived in this neighborhood and thought of
it as her own. Forget that she’d arrived in a purple jumper with a white shirt
boasting a Peter Pan collar. Because she’d thought it was coolest thing she
could arrive in Paris wearing.
For that one magical year, she’d stretched her wings, but they’d been
made of spun sugar, and she’d let them dissolve after returning home,
where she’d slid into a routine that was as regular as it was boring.
Then, two days ago, her best friend and former roommate from Paris
had called her. She’d been at the bakery where she worked, putting freshly
proofed croissants in the oven.
Brooke hadn’t wasted time with any preliminaries.
“Thea!” she’d cried, her voice charged with emotion. “Nanine was
rushed to the hospital after a heart attack.”
The bread pan had slipped from her hand, falling to the floor.
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