Tangled Threads Of Fate (HANGING BY A THREAD #1) by Grace McGinty EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Grace McGinty
- Language: English
- Genre: fantasy romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.4 MB
- Price: Free
WREN
Have you ever been violently attacked by a watermelon? I have. Twice.
Once at Ashley Michael’s eighth birthday party, when her mom
tried to use a watermelon instead of a piñata. It was filled with grapes and
lychees; her mom was one of those almond and yoga parents. I don’t think I
ever saw Ashley smile, because she didn’t want wrinkles.
Long story short, Ashley hit the pinata, making the oversized yet
hollowed-out fruit flail wildly. The hemp string snapped, sending the
watermelon careening at my face.
I ended up with a bloody nose and a fear of flying fruit. The Fruit Ninja
period of my life was rough.
The second time was today, when a watermelon rolled across the
sidewalk and right under my feet, sending me hurtling toward the concrete,
arms windmilling uselessly. I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. The
wail of an elderly woman—who was still clutching the handle of the
overturned fruit cart she’d been pushing—was almost lost beneath the
sound of early-morning traffic.
Ugh.
I looked at the sky and sighed heavily. I was definitely going to be late.
Hopefully my boss would understand, but he was a bit of an asshole.
Actually, he was a giant, gaping, hemorrhoid-infected asshole. He was a
stickler for rules and time stamps, and he “had a business to run, and if we
were spending six minutes in the bathroom, then that was a customer who
was inconvenienced for six minutes, which was six dollars worth of
revenue, and if every employee lost six dollars of revenue…” Blah blah
blah. Dude was an asshole, but I’d worked at Java Llama for a long time. It
had half-decent benefits and free coffee for employees.
And it was damn fine coffee.
Rolling onto my hands and knees, I scooped up some stray grapefruit—
and the offending watermelon—while the little old lady hefted her cart back
onto four wheels with the help of a dude in a business suit. The woman said
something effusive, but the guy just took one look at me, and the mess on
the sidewalk, before hurrying away.
I couldn’t even blame him, not really. No need for us to both be late,
and I’d already resigned myself to the fact I was going to get an asschewing, so may as well go big.
My Java Llama shirt was a little oversized, so I used it as a basket to
scoop up grapefruit, oranges, and lychees, making a bunch of trips back and
forth to the elderly woman’s cart. All the while, she threw her hands up and
gushed at me in a language I didn’t understand. I just smiled, hoping it
reached my eyes, and tried not to look at my watch.
Finally, I’d gathered most of the fruits off the ground and placed them
back into the decorative wooden boxes they’d fallen out of. There were still
a few oranges on the road, but they were on their own. They’d be juice by
the end of the morning rush, and no one wanted to eat dirty road fruit
anyway.
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