From Puck to F*ck by Mika Lane EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Mika Lane
- Language: English
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.6 MB
- Price: Free
PETAL
THREE MONTHS LATER…
MY MOTHER ACCOSTs me with her two-kiss cheek thing, something she
picked up on a recent vacation to France.
“It’s about time, Petal,” she hisses in my ear while maintaining her
radiant smile.
She’s a consummate performer, especially when all eyes are on her,
which they are because this is her big event, her charity fundraiser for the
city’s beleaguered Cable Car Museum, a B-list tourist attraction that gets
little attention and even less funding from the city government. It’s been a
constant struggle for the tiny place to stay open, and my mother loves
nothing more than an underdog. It’s given new purpose to her days. After
her last divorce, she glommed onto the sad museum like some people take
in an abandoned cat or dog, immediately pouring all her energy into saving
this obscure piece of San Francisco history.
I try to catch my breath, having run from the sidewalk through the
enormous halls of the Palace Hotel, to the giant ballroom where Mom’s
hosting today’s event. “Sorry, Mom. Lost track of time.”
She beams but I can see in her eyes she really wants to strangle me. I
get that from her a lot, we’re so different from one another.
I don’t like attention. She craves the spotlight.
I am late a lot. She’s always early.
I’m neat and she’s a slob. No word of a lie, when I was growing up, I
was the one who had to tell her to clean her room.
With Mom at my elbow, she maneuvers us both through the crowd,
smiling, nodding, and shaking hands with all her friends who, I am sure, are
thinking of nothing but the debacle that was my thwarted wedding only a
few months ago.
“Hold your head up, honey,” Mom whispers into my ear. “Don’t give
these people anything else to talk about.”
Yeah, right. Like I can actually stop the flow of gossip that exploded in
all nooks and crannies of San Francisco when I did the unthinkable—left
my fiancé, one of the city’s ‘most eligible bachelors,’ at the altar.
The follow up stories were epic. Spoiled heiress leaves good guy at the
altar.
That sort of thing.
Maybe if I’d done it with more dignity, I might not have provided the
same level of fodder for the city’s magpies, but who am I kidding? What’s
juicier than wedding drama?
Especially when the bride swats the groom upside the head with a
bouquet, then tosses it to the ‘other woman,’ who catches it like she’s
waiting for it. The cherry on top, which sealed my fate as the topic of
conversation for months to follow, was calling her a cunty bitch before
leaving the congregation in total silence.
Actually, I screamed it.
It felt good for about sixty seconds, then I fell to pieces in the limo that I
demanded drive me home.
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