One Summer in Paris - Page 29

“You’re late.”

“I was being verbally abused by a customer who couldn’t find his favorite brand of canned tomatoes.”

Audrey didn’t see how a can of tomatoes could be the cause of friction, but she did know people got all revved up about different things. “Tomato rage.”

“Don’t even joke about it. I was afraid he was going to throw it at me, and it was a multipack. That would have been the end of me.” Meena sat down next to her and opened her lunch box. “Where’s your lunch?”

“I ate it.” Audrey put her phone on her lap. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” Meena investigated. “Pakora, rice, yogurt—that’s to absorb the heat from the chili.”

“It smells good. What’s in it?”

“Vegetables and love.” Meena grinned. “That’s what my mum told me. When I was little I thought you bought love in the market, along with carrots.”

“I can’t believe your mum makes all that for you every day and works as a doctor.”

“Yeah, well, home-cooked food is a big deal in my house. Mum says she finds cooking calming. I do, too. Sometimes I think my whole family is glued together by food.”

Audrey felt no envy that her friend had a place at Oxford University, but she envied Meena her family. “Is your sister still good at French?”

“My sister is okay but my cousin is better. She gets top marks in everything.” Meena ate a spoonful of yogurt. “It’s annoying how good she is at languages.”

“There’s a job I want to apply for, but my French isn’t good enough. Do you think she’d help?”

“Yes. If she doesn’t, I won’t help her with physics.” Meena leaned across, trying to read Audrey’s phone. “What’s the job?”

“It’s a bookshop in Paris. The pay is crap, but it comes with a studio apartment.”

With the money she’d saved from working in the hair salon she’d be able to afford to get herself to Paris and keep herself for two weeks, maybe three if she ate only one meal a day. Then she’d need to find a job.

True, she didn’t know anything about the Left Bank or the Right Bank and would definitely get them muddled up because knowing her left from her right was one of her biggest struggles, but she’d find a way.

“Wait.” Meena stopped chewing. “You’re going to have your own apartment and a job in a bookshop? That’s cool. But if your French isn’t good enough to apply for the job, how are you going to manage when you get there?”

The same way she’d lived her whole life. “I’ll muddle through.”

“You’re so brave. What do they want you to do?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that. Your French is pretty good, too.” Audrey thrust the phone toward her friend, and Meena read it quickly.

“You need to write a piece on why books and reading are important.”

“Crap.”

Meena wiped her fingers. “I thought you hated books and reading.”

“I do. I prefer movies.” Her secret passion was watching animated movies, but she’d never admit to anything so childish. “Obviously I’m not going to tell them that. Does your cousin like books?”

“Yes. She’s always reading.”

“Great. So if she could write why she loves books, in French, I’ll send that off. Can you ask her tonight?”

“Sure.” Meena peered into her lunch box. “Why does my mum make me so much food? If I ate it all I’d be the size of a small office building. Every day I have to throw it away in case she finds out I didn’t eat it all and gets offended. I don’t suppose you want some, do you?”

“Sure.” Audrey had to stop herself from falling face-first into the lunch box like Hardy and his dog bowl. “Anything for a friend.”

She consumed the rest of Meena’s food and tried to figure out a way to persuade Meena’s mother to adopt her.

Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance
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