What If It's Love?: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

counter and got a token—the open sesame to the toilet door.
    “I’m transferring my bathroom entitlement to her,” she told the glaring
maître d’ and handed the token to the woman.
    Lena resolved there and then that the establishment didn’t deserve her
business.
    La Bohème , on the other hand, was free of such nonsense. Its food
was delicious and its service quick. Its proprietor and staff were friendly for
Parisian standards. Better still, they provided a constant stream of
entertainment.
    There was the Adonis, of course. Lena still didn’t know his name—he
never introduced himself, and he never asked her name, either. So, she
continued to identify him as Adonis, even though the moniker was beginning to
sound ridiculous. He had gotten into the habit of stopping by her table to
exchange a few words about this and that, which made her feel like a valued
patron. At least this was her official explanation of why she enjoyed those
little conversations so much.
    After a few days, they’d established they were both finishing grad school
and writing their theses. Adonis told Lena he was almost done and shared a few
time management tricks.
    Yesterday afternoon when he threw her a friendly “how’s that thesis
coming along”, she replied with pride she’d written more than half.
    “Well done!” he cheered, and Lena felt her cheeks warm with pleasure.
    If I were a cat, the entire café would hear me purr , she thought.
    He placed a cup smelling of coffee and chocolate on her table. “This
cappuccino is on me. You deserve it.”
    She shook her head, “No, please, you shouldn’t do this. I’m happy enough
with your verbal encouragements.”
    “Oh, but it’s nothing. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll rephrase it.
This cappuccino is on the house—more precisely, on Pierre, the owner of
the bistro.”
    He winked and added, “Pierre has no clue he just extended his generosity
to you, but I can guarantee when he finds out, he won’t mind. He values
education highly.”
    “Well . . . I suppose it would be rude of me to refuse a
drink offered by the proprietor.”
    “He would be scandalized.”
    She raised the cup. “Here’s to Pierre—the champion of education, a
generous boss, and an all-round good man.”
    “Amen,” he said.
    Then, there was the blue-haired waitress. Most of the other regulars
called her Jeanne, and she knew their names as well. She’d greet the old lady
who came for her daily espresso with a “Mme Blanchard, how is that knee today?”
and actually stop to listen to the answer. She’d inquire of the gray-suited
office rat , “Did your
business trip go well?” She seemed to know about the patrons’ families, their
work (or the lack thereof), and health. She certainly knew their culinary
preferences, which made her order taking remarkably efficient.
    Lena couldn’t wait for the day Jeanne would greet her with a “Hi, Lena!
The usual?”
    She had also spotted a goofy fellow who had his dinner at La Bohème every day. His wild curls and huge thick eyeglasses—the kind ugly
ducklings wore in movies before their transformation—hid most of his
face. On top of this, the guy was extremely thin. His T-shirt hung from his
wide but bony shoulders in a two-dimensional way, like a shirt on a clothes
hanger, with no noticeable relief anywhere along its length. His arms were so
skinny that were he a woman, Lena would have bet he had anorexia.
    Did men suffer from anorexia?
    Mr. Clothes Hanger appeared to be Rob’s buddy. He also seemed to be
carrying a torch for Jeanne—if his lingering looks and repeated clumsy
attempts to strike a conversation with her were any indication. Unfortunately
for him, Jeanne didn’t take the slightest interest in his person, except how he
liked his coffee and his steaks.
    The third waiter Lena liked to watch was a black-haired Spanish guy,
Pepe. He had the body of a matador—elegant and compact. It was a shame,
really, that his shapely frame was too