quick hug, feeling slightly woozy from daytime wine. This French lifestyle would take some getting used to. But I had to make a start on the to-do list for the shop. I’d need to escape the following day for my passport appointment, and I only hoped it didn’t eat too much time out of my day.
Chapter Seven
“You’ll have a new passport in three weeks, Miss Smith, at the earliest. Please be more careful. Passports are
not
like train tickets. You should know where it is at all times.” The consulate official tutted, and signed the paperwork with a flourish.
His colleague steepled his fingers and reiterated, “You
have
to be careful, Miss Smith. We suggest you read our website when it comes to travel warnings and how to be safe. Paris is a beautiful city but you must take precautions…”
I forced a tight smile. They were speaking to me like I was a child, and it grated. Did I have a sign on my forehead saying, ‘Kid trapped in adult’s body’? “Yeah, it was an
accident
, a split-second decision, so it’s not like I plan to repeat it.”
“Just be careful. Treat your passport like it’s priceless, OK?”
Steepled fingers joined in, “Like… it’s the
Mona Lisa
.”
I willed my eyes not to roll, it was a good twenty-second battle. “The Mona Lisa. Got it.” I smiled to soften the sarcasm that poured from my mouth and donned my most innocent expression.
“Three weeks, so no international travel until then, OK?”
I slapped a hand to my forehead. “No international travel? Are you sure? Can’t I use my train ticket in lieu of a passport?” I couldn’t resist acting like the imbecile they took me for. “Joke.” I said to their startled faces. “I’ll lock myself safely in my room so no harm comes to me.”
When I finally found my way back to the bookshop, phones were left ringing, the counter was staffed only by Oceane, and customers grumbled to one another about the wait. I dashed behind the counter and stowed my bag ready to help.
“Next.” I smiled brightly, hoping to ward off any complaints. “Where is everyone?” I asked under my breath.
“Who knows?” Oceane muttered. “It’s like with Sophie gone everyone’s in holiday mode. I don’t get paid enough for this kind of treatment. I’ve been screeched at a hundred times already.”
I nodded in agreement. The next customer approached. “You’re in all the Paris guidebooks as the best bookshop, yet you don’t even have the latest Cathy Kelly book here! What kind of bookshop is this?” The woman plonked some romance novels down, and glared.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “The Cathy Kelly’s only just arrived and we haven’t had a chance…”
She held up a hand. “I’ve waited an hour to be served. I just want to pay and go.”
“Sorry,” I said lamely. Where the hell was everyone?
Once we’d caught up, I rushed to the store room and unpacked the latest delivery of books. Really, we needed someone in charge of restocking. You couldn’t sell books if they were hidden in a back room. I raced to the computer and made up some quick flyers, advertising ‘Buy three books get the fourth half price’. People loved getting a bargain, and I was mindful of keeping the sales figures healthy. When I had more time I’d introduce other bundle deals to inspire people to buy. Already, I could tell the difference between a customer who truly loved books, and paid for one, and a tourist who just wanted to cross another sight off their list. Somehow, we had to convert those sightseers into customers.
***
Ridge and I had become masters in phone tag. It was like we instinctively knew when the other one was busy or sleeping, and seemed to call at that moment. I missed him like crazy, and still got a little thrill when I heard his message bank recording, even though it meant he wasn’t available to chat. A week on Paris soil, and I still hadn’t managed to tee up a time that was convenient to speak to Ridge, or the girls back home. It
Chapter Seven
“You’ll have a new passport in three weeks, Miss Smith, at the earliest. Please be more careful. Passports are
not
like train tickets. You should know where it is at all times.” The consulate official tutted, and signed the paperwork with a flourish.
His colleague steepled his fingers and reiterated, “You
have
to be careful, Miss Smith. We suggest you read our website when it comes to travel warnings and how to be safe. Paris is a beautiful city but you must take precautions…”
I forced a tight smile. They were speaking to me like I was a child, and it grated. Did I have a sign on my forehead saying, ‘Kid trapped in adult’s body’? “Yeah, it was an
accident
, a split-second decision, so it’s not like I plan to repeat it.”
“Just be careful. Treat your passport like it’s priceless, OK?”
Steepled fingers joined in, “Like… it’s the
Mona Lisa
.”
I willed my eyes not to roll, it was a good twenty-second battle. “The Mona Lisa. Got it.” I smiled to soften the sarcasm that poured from my mouth and donned my most innocent expression.
“Three weeks, so no international travel until then, OK?”
I slapped a hand to my forehead. “No international travel? Are you sure? Can’t I use my train ticket in lieu of a passport?” I couldn’t resist acting like the imbecile they took me for. “Joke.” I said to their startled faces. “I’ll lock myself safely in my room so no harm comes to me.”
When I finally found my way back to the bookshop, phones were left ringing, the counter was staffed only by Oceane, and customers grumbled to one another about the wait. I dashed behind the counter and stowed my bag ready to help.
“Next.” I smiled brightly, hoping to ward off any complaints. “Where is everyone?” I asked under my breath.
“Who knows?” Oceane muttered. “It’s like with Sophie gone everyone’s in holiday mode. I don’t get paid enough for this kind of treatment. I’ve been screeched at a hundred times already.”
I nodded in agreement. The next customer approached. “You’re in all the Paris guidebooks as the best bookshop, yet you don’t even have the latest Cathy Kelly book here! What kind of bookshop is this?” The woman plonked some romance novels down, and glared.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “The Cathy Kelly’s only just arrived and we haven’t had a chance…”
She held up a hand. “I’ve waited an hour to be served. I just want to pay and go.”
“Sorry,” I said lamely. Where the hell was everyone?
Once we’d caught up, I rushed to the store room and unpacked the latest delivery of books. Really, we needed someone in charge of restocking. You couldn’t sell books if they were hidden in a back room. I raced to the computer and made up some quick flyers, advertising ‘Buy three books get the fourth half price’. People loved getting a bargain, and I was mindful of keeping the sales figures healthy. When I had more time I’d introduce other bundle deals to inspire people to buy. Already, I could tell the difference between a customer who truly loved books, and paid for one, and a tourist who just wanted to cross another sight off their list. Somehow, we had to convert those sightseers into customers.
***
Ridge and I had become masters in phone tag. It was like we instinctively knew when the other one was busy or sleeping, and seemed to call at that moment. I missed him like crazy, and still got a little thrill when I heard his message bank recording, even though it meant he wasn’t available to chat. A week on Paris soil, and I still hadn’t managed to tee up a time that was convenient to speak to Ridge, or the girls back home. It
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