Never Too Late by Chelle Bliss EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Chelle Bliss
- Language: English
- Genre: Romantic Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
FRANCO
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“F, ’ . A .” J’
carries through the shop, echoing from deep under the hood of a late
nineties town car.
I’m leaning my elbows on the ancient metal shop desk, sorting through
a goddamn mountain of paperwork as though the answer to the meaning of
the universe is on one of those purchase orders. The even more ancient desk
chair creaks under my weight.
“Frankie!” Jack times his shout to the momentary pause before the bass
of the song booming through the speakers kicks up to eardrum-splitting.
“Fuck, man, you want me to find that slip or what?” I yell back.
I’ve got a one-track mind, and I mean that literally.
You want my attention, you get it. All of it.
You want diagnostics run on a fuel pump, the best cup of coffee you
ever had, a night of mind-melting orgasms courtesy of my tongue, or even a
lost purchase order found—I can do every one of those things exceptionally
well. But only one damned thing at a time.
Finding that piece of paper Jack lost in this mess on the desk will take
every shred of patience I have left.
And to be honest, I didn’t even hear my phone. I can’t believe he can
hear anything over the hair band he has blaring.
I curse under my breath and try to find the slip of paper that my buddy
insists is here—somewhere.
If Jack’s parents weren’t going through some shit, I would have gotten
my ass out from behind the desk and back under one of the dozen cars we
have waiting for work, telling him to find the goddamn paperwork himself.
But Jack’s my oldest friend, this is his shop, and without his mom here to
keep the books, he’s in way over his head.
“Come on, man. Did you find it?” Jack demands.
I want to tell him to find his own needle in this haystack, but instead, I
just hold up a hand and flip him the bird while I shove aside papers of all
shapes and sizes.
One problem at a time.
I grab my phone and swipe the screen, and I see not one, not two, but
three different messages, all from the same sender.
Mom: Frankie, sweetheart, it’s your mother. Can you take a quick break
and meet me at Latterature? It’s urgent but not life-threatening. Love, Ma
Mom: Franco, honey. It’s almost lunch. Do your mother a favor and run
down to the bookstore. I won’t keep you long. It’s very, very important. Love
you, sweetheart. Ma
Mom: Son, please, now I’m getting worried. You work five minutes
away. Are you coming? Love, your mother Lucia
Three separate text messages composed in full sentences. Each one
addressed to me. Each one signed by my mother.
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