Golden Touch by Sarina Bowen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sarina Bowen
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.4 MB
- Price: Free
LIVIA
Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is listen for trouble. It’s
a lifelong habit, and today is no different. But all I hear this morning is
birdsong. Lots of it. It sounds like a nearby blue jay and a chickadee have
an ongoing disagreement.
Sitting up, I have to squint against the sunlight streaming through the
windows. When I’d moved into this weird little apartment—carved out of
the old pumphouse behind the Giltmaker Brewery—there’d been a set of
faded curtains hanging from the windows. They were so tattered that I’d
taken them down and hidden them in an upstairs closet.
Often, because I spend so much time alone, I mentally redecorate this
place. New curtains. A cute paint job. A shower upgrade. A couch that isn’t
lumpy.
But this place isn’t mine to redecorate. I’m only borrowing it. Lyle
Giltmaker—the brewery owner—lets me live here for free. He’s not a
generous man in my experience, but he likes the idea that I’m always early
for work.
The downside: I don’t have a lease or any kind of job security. He could
fire me and evict me in the same breath if he decided to. Still, it’s the best
deal in town, and I’m determined to practice gratitude. This has been a
stressful year, and it’s not every day that you find a job where the owner
doesn’t ask too many questions, and also pays you in cash.
Lyle’s a world-class grump, but nobody’s perfect.
So I’m counting my blessings as I head for the tiny bathroom, pull back
the rust-stained shower curtain, and crank the faucet. And I continue to
count them, even though I’m not a morning person, and seven thirty feels
stupidly early, and the water doesn’t stay hot for long.
Less than twenty minutes later, I’ve got my makeup done, my heels on,
and I’m ready to make the short walk to the brewery’s office.
On my way out, I grab my phone from the charger in the kitchen and
take a look at my notifications. And what I see there makes me pull up short
—seven missed calls and a flurry of texts from my cousin. All of them from
late last night.
Oh no. Even before I read her first text, I know it’s going to be bad.
JENNIE
Where are you?
Hell of a time for your stupid phone to die!!! There’s some
asshole pounding on my front door and yelling for you.
Call me when you get this. Any hour. He’s gone now because
my crone of a neighbor threatened to call the cops. But we
have to talk. I’ve never seen this guy before, but he’s bad
news.
There’s more, but I don’t read it, because I’m already calling her back.
“Hey,” Jennie answers sleepily. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. But, God, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s not your fault, babe. But I’m scared.”
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