Mr. Grump’s Baby by Tiffany Barkley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Tiffany Barkley
- Language: English
- Genre: Romance
- Format: PDF/ePub
- Size: 3.1 MB
- Price: Free
Helen
In the dimly lit embrace of “Frisco’s Paradise,” with its sultry ambiance and
walls adorned with vintage posters of jazz musicians, the air pulsated with
the smooth tunes of a live band. The bar counter, a polished mahogany
masterpiece, exuded an old-world charm that beckoned both the lost souls
seeking solace and the spirited souls yearning for connection.
The vibrations of lively conversations and laughter reverberated through the
polished surface, intertwining with the clinking of glasses and the steady
rhythm of jazz.
It was within this enchanting symphony that I found myself , hustling from
table to table, my determination etched upon my furrowed brow.
“Did you know that Picasso was once accused of art theft?” I asked
playfully to one of the regular customers. “No way, get out of here!” “Yes!
On August 21, 1911, Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” was stolen from the
Louvre. Eight days later, a man named Joseph Géry Pieret revealed to the
Paris-Journal that Picasso and his friend, avant-garde poet Apollinaire,
were in possession of Iberian sculptures that had also been stolen from the
Louvre. This made Picasso one of the top suspects in the theft of
Leonardo’s painting.” I knew this and a million other anecdotes about
famous artists. I loved to share them with anybody for that matter.
“There you go again” Lisa interrupted the conversation. “Why don’t you
take the stage and put on your own stand up comedy show? The band
sucks! “ We both burst into laughter.
With each cocktail ,I poured a bit of my own artistic soul into the glass, or
so I thought.
As I was pouring my art into the glasses,my gaze met Robin’s across the
bustling bar. His weathered face seemed to mirror the polished mahogany
counter, etched with lines of resilience and shadows of forgotten battles. In
his piercing blue eyes, there was a mixture of mischief and understanding.
The corner of Robin’s mouth curled up into a mischievous smile. With a
voice as smooth as aged whiskey, he called me out above the lively hum of
conversation”You’ve got a touch of magic in those hands of yours.”I felt my
heart swell with pride at Robin’s words, like an orchestra playing a
triumphant crescendo.
A surge of warmth unfurled within me, spreading
from my chest to the tips of my fingers. It was a feeling I yearned for, an
affirmation that my passion and dedication were not in vain.My heart
fluttered like a delicate butterfly, caught between the intoxicating allure of
my passion for art and the harsh reality of my dire financial circumstances.
Lisa approached me with a tray full of drinks, her eyes sparkling
mischievously beneath a curtain of long, jet-black lashes. She set the tray
down on the table, and watched me intently, her dark eyes brimming with a
mixture of curiosity and concern, like two bottomless pools reflecting the
flickering candlelight that danced upon the walls of “Frisco’s Paradise.” “I
understand the weight that you carry on your shoulders, the struggle to
balance dreams against the harsh realities of life” she said.Lisa’s voice,
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