A Fine Mess by Allie Schaefer EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Allie Schaefer
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
elizabeth
I turned my back to brace against the howling wind whipping off Lake
Erie and sipped my Timmy Ho’s double-double coffee and scanned the
landscape. It wasn’t exactly a brilliant decision to stroll along the inner
harbor to capture a photo of Buffalo City Hall against a backdrop of silver
clouds, but at least the biting wind gave me something to feel other than
sorry for myself.
I tugged off one mitten with my teeth and adjusted my hat down over
my ears. I yanked up the zipper on my coat, rated for thirty-five degrees
below zero (I had, after all, recently moved back from Boston), and tucked
my chin into the collar. My ex used to say, “There’s no bad weather, just
bad clothing.” Turned out he lied. About a lot of things.
Including his cute little side chick.
Dismissing the thought, I set down the paper coffee cup on the parking
curb, tucked one mitten under my arm, and lifted the camera from the strap
around my neck. It was one of those expensive ones that had a lens cap and
an instruction booklet, not an app on my iPhone.
Click. Click. Click.
Another breeze kicked up and sent the coffee cup skittering across the
parking lot like a cockroach exposed to sudden daylight. Groaning, I took
off in pursuit, my camera on its strap thumping heavily against my chest.
Thankfully, the wind died down long enough for me to stomp on the cup,
crushing it. I didn’t want anyone calling me a litterbug. After properly
disposing of the trash, I checked the image on the camera’s screen.
Not bad.
I’d take a few more just in case, then pick the best one. A pithy caption
would come to me on the drive home, and then I’d post it on social media.
And wait for likes and comments.
This was what my world had boiled down to.
My friends, most of whom I had gone to school with while in Boston,
thought it was bizarre that I chose to move to Buffalo after getting laid off
from a top architectural firm in Beantown. Apparently they had bought into
the bad press that Buffalo was boring, blue-collar, and bitterly cold. Like
Boston couldn’t be wicked cold, too? What they failed to consider was that
the second-largest city in New York State had a rich tradition of gorgeous
architecture by the likes of Frank Lloyd Wright.
But that wasn’t the primary
reason I had moved (back) to the Queen City. Buffalo was home, or more
accurately, the closest city to Walleye Point, a small town on Lake Erie
where I’d lived between the ages of twelve and eighteen. As a wide-eyed
college freshman, I had told my Boston roommates I was from New York,
but to them, that automatically meant New York City.
If I corrected them to
say that, no, not New York City, but rather Walleye Point, it was inevitably
followed by a geography lesson. My hometown was forty-five minutes
outside of Buffalo. If they weren’t staring at me like an open-mouthed dead
fish, they were laughing at the name. So, my simple answer when asked
where I was from became Buffalo. People knew Buffalo, even if the
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