By Katie Fforde
Sophie Apperly's relatives hasn't ever taken her heavily. Fiercely educational, they see her more effective abilities as frivolous - when always benefiting from her. So whilst her ally Milly invitations her over to manhattan, she jumps on the probability. It'll do her ungrateful relations strong to do with out her for it slow. What's extra, she's on a quest - the USA holds the main to fixing her family's monetary woes, whether they don't deserve her support. From the instant Sophie hits the intense lighting fixtures of ny she's made up our minds to take pleasure in each minute of her colossal event. So while a night at an paintings gallery throws her into the trail of Matilda, a lively outdated woman who invitations her to Connecticut for Thanksgiving, Sophie willingly accepts, a lot to the dismay of Matilda's grandson Luke. Undeniably appealing yet infuriatingly conceited, he's very protecting of his grandmother and turns out to doubt Sophie's explanations for befriending her. No fit for the ambitious Matilda, he ultimately admits defeat, yet first he has a suggestion to make. He'll support Sophie in her quest to avoid wasting her relatives from bankruptcy if she repays the favour. yet simply what does she need to do in return...?
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Extra resources for A Perfect Proposal
Vado verso la Mini. In piedi di fianco alla macchina c'è una donna, di schiena. Sta fumando una sigaretta e ha un'aria familiare. Mi fermo a guardarla pensando che è troppo tardi anche per una battona povera e ostinata. In quel momento si gira e la riconosco. È Carla. La sorpresa riesce a superare la stanchezza che mi sta attorcigliando le spalle, le gambe e lo stomaco. Mi avvicino. Lei mi vede, getta il mozzicone a terra e regala l'ultimo sbuffo di fumo alla notte. Viene verso di me. Il suo viso è bello come me lo ricordavo.
O forse ero troppo occupato a farmi bello agli occhi di Daytona, per accorgermene. Passo dopo passo emergono dalla penombra i suoi occhi. Li tiene fissi nei miei, anche se quando mi parla c'è una nota d'imbarazzo nella sua voce. E una forma di prudenza e di pudore tutti femminili, per essere davanti a me, in quel posto e a quell'ora. » «Ciao. » Fa un cenno con la testa verso il palazzone dove, dietro alle finestre illuminate, si stanno affannando con panni e strofinacci le sue colleghe. «Ero al lavoro.
Non sfuma nessun affare. » «Perché dovrei farlo? » «Te lo dico io perché. Ti eviti di crepare in un modo piuttosto penoso. Io non ho fretta. Posso spararti un colpo in un ginocchio e aspettare. Poi nell'altro e poi nella spalla e cosi via. Oppure con un colpo solo farti saltare via tutta l'attrezzatura. » Resto in silenzio. Il mio pensiero va da un'altra parte. Ora non sono più nella macchina ma altrove, con altri uomini come il Tulipano, persone con le stesse intenzioni e con la stessa indifferenza.