Read Second Hearts (The Wishes Series) for Free Online Page A

always oblivious to the time difference. “I’ll get him to call you when he gets in.”
    “No, leave it a few days,” I said. “I want to have better news to tell him.”
    “You’ll be fine, Charli. I have every faith in you.”

4. Elvis
    Finding a job was paramount. If I could secure a job, there was a fair chance I’d find a brand new life along the way. Chic restaurants and cafés were in abundance near my apartment so I decided to try my luck, approaching most of them in search of work.
    I got knocked back every single time.
    Perhaps I was approaching this job thing the wrong way. Everyone I’d spoken to that morning had been on the receiving end of my best sell ever. When asked about my qualifications, I pumped my experience up to stellar levels. According to my fake mental résumé, I’d worked everywhere from Michelin star restaurants to high-end boutiques – no mean feat considering I’d spent the past year in African countries. The closest I’d come to a high-end boutique was the market stall in Kaimte that sold bogus Prada handbags.
    If I could just find an employer needing the services of a slightly scattered would-be photographer with a degree in fairyology and a penchant for magic moments, I’d be a shoo-in. So far, that particular employer had eluded me and the minute I walked into Nellie’s Restaurant, I knew I wasn’t going to find him there either.
    The restaurant was bigger than most, boasting a split-level dining area and a mezzanine level above to cater for large functions. It was busy. Hectic to the point of bedlam. Servers rushed around carrying huge plates of food and a long line of people stood waiting to be seated.
    A very frazzled woman flicked through the reservations book, making promises I was fairly sure she couldn’t keep. “We should have a table for you in another ten minutes, sir,” she told the man who was first in line.
    “We’ll wait,” he replied gruffly.
    The food must have been really good. Either that or I’d stumbled into another Manhattan restaurant where you qualified as awesome just because you were seen there. Seizing the first opportunity I had, I excused myself and pushed my way to the head of the line. The frazzled girl behind the podium frowned at me.
    I frowned back.
    “You’re going to be waiting at least an hour,” she warned, furiously thumbing through pages again.
    “No, no. I’m here about the job.”
    “What job?”
    “Err, the waitressing job,” I lied.
    “Is Paolo expecting you?”
    I quickly glanced at my watch. “Yes, ten minutes ago.”
    She smirked, and I sensed she knew something I didn’t. “Be my guest,” she said, pointing toward the door to the kitchen.
    I was still trying to psyche myself into entering the kitchen when the door violently swung open. I stepped aside quickly, making way for a waiter precariously balancing three plates of food in his arms. I jumped into the kitchen before the door swung shut – straight in to the sights of the restaurateur from hell, Paolo.
    “You!” He pointed straight at me.
    “Me?” I asked in a tiny voice, turning my head to see if anyone was standing behind me.
    “What do you want?”
    For such a short man, Paolo was terrifying. He wasn’t much taller than me. If it had come to blows between us, I was fairly certain I could take him – unless he sat on me. He was as wide as he was tall.
    I was about to answer when his attention switched to a girl who’d just leaned across him to pick up a plate of food.
    “Gretchen!” he yelled, making the girl jump. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “This is the order for table six,” she uttered, recoiling as if he’d just slapped her.
    “Not unless there’s a rabbit seated at table six. Do you see any meat on that plate?”
    I studied the plate as closely as Gretchen did, hoping to see a fillet mignon hiding under the mass of salad, just to prove him wrong.
    “Get out of my sight,” he hissed, waving his arms like he was