Wish You Were French by Elaelah Harley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Elaelah Harley
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.5 MB
- Price: Free
AUDREY
The French had a saying, ‘avoir le coup de foudre’, which meant to be
struck by lightning. It was used to describe either love at first sight or
something unexpected, annoying even, dropping upon you. Weighing
about 1.6 grams and travelling roughly 60 kilometres-per-hour, the bird poo
that splattered over my hat was not the side of the idiom I wanted to be on.
“Really?” I called to the blue sky above, taking off my favourite beret
once I felt the hit. I had the type of dread that made you stop mid-stride,
hoping no one just saw what happened. This was an omen—one that
reminded me I’m not where I belong.
“Lucy!” I shouted as I walked through the back entrance of the café
where my best friend worked. “The universe is telling me I need to leave
this place.”
“Didn’t Cathy scold you about walking through the back doors?” Lucy
echoed her boss’ warning from behind the café till, before she turned back
to the customers she was serving. It was an older couple—the woman wore
a coastal grandmother-inspired cable knit sweater, while her partner wore a
weather-proof jacket. I didn’t recognise them, so they wouldn’t be staying
in town for long. They never did. “Sorry,” Lucy said. “We’ve called the
cops on her, but she just doesn’t stop breaking in.”
The woman clutched at her pearls while her husband stood solid, ready
to take whatever came his way. “She’s joking,” I clarified, only to have
them mutter something along the lines of ‘kids these days’ as they made
their way to the table. Being in my early twenties, I’ve been anxiously
waiting for the day that older folk would stop calling me a kid.
“I’m using your sink.”
“No, no! That is not food safe,” Lucy hissed. “Just bin the beret, it’s
seen too much.”
My mouth curved into a frown. “I can’t—berets aren’t in season at the
moment, so I’d have to wait until next year for a replacement.”
“I never said buy a new one.”
“Lucy,” I warned. “You know what it means to me.”
“If it was an heirloom, I’d get it. But it’s an off-brand piece of fabric
from 2012, and you really ought to be moving on from that contaminated
thing.” She had a point, I thought—even if Lucy’s statement was on the
harsher side, she said it out of love. And best friends don’t let each other
look bad. “Sit down, I’ll get you a croissant.”
“You know just what to say.” I batted my lashes, then eventually
dumped the hat into a takeaway bag so I could wash it later.
My mother always told me that I had an addictive personality, but lacked
the passion to make a hobby stick. Too wrapped up in what to do next, I was
the type of girl who spent hundreds of dollars on self-help books just to
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