Title: The Guy From the Internet by Birdie Song
Publisher: Birdie Song
Genre: Contemporary, Romance
Length: 99 pages
A sweet romance with a touch of family drama.
Holly Chee does not have her life together. She’s flip-flopped on uni courses and career choices, and somehow scared off her long-term fiancée-to-be, much to the chagrin of her immigrant parents.
But she does have her streaming channel, where she broadcasts her art from her one-bedroom Mount Lawley apartment. And she has that guy from France… assuming he’s even who he says he is.
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Afterwards, when Jed asks to see my phone, I know exactly what she’s looking for. I mangle my quiche while pulling up the latest photo from Florian saved in my gallery.
I’ve looked at that photo at least seventy-four times since he sent it, and it still makes my heart flutter. His steely eyes, soft features, light brown skin and a splash of freckles across his nose—my boyfriend is crush material.
His hair’s shorter than usual in this photo. It’s a recent change, one of many he says he’s ready to make. A fresh look and a fresh start away from Paris is only the beginning. Jedda gives a long hum of approval.
“My girl, he is a looker. Is he mixed?”
“Both his parents are. On his dad’s side, his granddad is Scottish, and his grandma’s from Mali. His mum’s dad’s from South America, and her mum is from the same place in China as my mum’s family. Not that it’d make much difference to my folks.”
“Oh yeah? Are they a bit…” She gesticulates with a grimace. “You know?”
“Maybe. I don’t know; we’ve never really talked about it. But they loved Nick so much and kept going on about how he’s such a good Chinese boy. I think they’d definitely have a problem with me bringing home anyone who wasn’t exactly like him—looks and all.”
We’re interrupted by a ruckus starting in the middle of the dance floor.
“Great. There’s a nope.” Jed hands back my phone. “Sounds like it’s all kicking off over there.”
“What do you mean? They’re just dancing.”
“No, not there. Over there.”
She points my chin at the other end of the room. Not far from the Christmas tree, a small group of new call centre recruits are reluctantly entertaining a familiar, unwelcome face. Their polite smiles, nervous sipping and uncomfortable glances around the room say plenty.
I feel sick.
“You coming, Hol? Actually…” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”
My heart pounds as I watch Jeds walk their way. My stomach does a huge flip. I try telling myself it’s the champagne and canapés, but I know deep down it’s not.
Once she disappears into the crowd, I slip my shoes back on and get out of there as fast as I can.
I write sweet stories about people falling in love.
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