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    Time and Time Again
    Time and Time Again
    Time and Time Again
    Ebook99 pages1 hour

    Time and Time Again

    By Chantal Fernando

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    I always thought I had luck on my side.

    Things seemed to go in my favour, whether by will or by nature.

    But that luck just ran out.

    Jobless and on the verge of being homeless, I find a strength in me that I didn’t even know existed and discover an unlikely savior --- Tag.

    He avoids commitment like the plague, and starting anything with him will only lead to heartbreak.

    I know this.

    He knows this.

    So why am I still here?

    Oh, right. Because I want him more than I want my next breath.

    Series as follows:

    Maybe This Time

    This Time Around

    Time and Time Again

    Time Will Tell

    Thief

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChantal Fernando
    Release dateJan 10, 2015
    ISBN9781507071519
    Time and Time Again
    Author

    Chantal Fernando

    Chantal Fernando is the New York Times, USA Today and Amazon Bestselling Author of numerous novels, including Maybe This Time, The Wind Dragons MC Series, The Cursed Ravens MC and many more. Born in Sri Lanka, Chantal moved to Western Australia as a child, where she still resides. At age thirty two, Chantal has published over thirty novels, and has no intention of slowing down. When not reading, writing or daydreaming, she can be found enjoying life with her three sons and family.

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      Book preview

      Time and Time Again - Chantal Fernando

      One

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      Three

      Four

      Five

      Six

      Seven

      Eight

      Nine

      Ten

      Eleven

      Twelve

      Thirteen

      Epilogue

      Also by Chantal Fernando

      TIME AND TIME AGAIN

      Copyright © 2014 Chantal Fernando

      All rights reserved.

      Published December 2014

      Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

      Edited by Erinn Giblin

      Formatting by Max Effect

      All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

      TIME AND TIME AGAIN is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offence to the content, as it is FICTION.

      Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders, The authors acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      Three weeks.

      It’s been three weeks since I lost my job. Cuts had to be made, and I was the youngest and had been there the shortest. It wasn’t as though I loved my job at the hotel, but it paid the bills. Now, I am in desperate need of another job. I’ve applied everywhere I can think of, and I’ve even been to two interviews, but nothing. My resume isn’t that impressive. I finished high school and was hired straight away as a receptionist at Western Hotel. I’d been there for two years before they fired me, and it was the only work experience I had. I was living pay check to pay check, and now my rent is three weeks overdue. My landlord gave me one more week before he would kick me out. I had no savings or credit card. In other words, I’m screwed.

      I suppose I could always go back to one of my parent’s houses, but I don’t want to. They live in Melbourne, which is on the other side of the country, and I have no intention of going back there to see them any time soon. Standing up from my seat on the bus, I walk to the exit and hop down the step.

      Thank you, I call out to the bus driver then make my way down the street. I was wearing a professional looking outfit. At least I thought it was. A black, knee-length pencil skirt hugged my hips and matched my crisp, white shirt that didn’t show too much cleavage. My red hair was pulled away from my face in low pony tail, and my complexion was make up free aside from some mascara and eyeliner rimming my green eyes. My heels make a clicking noise as I scan the shops, bars, and restaurants, looking for a help wanted sign or anything that could give me some hope. I was down to my last fifty dollars, and it wasn’t looking good. I’d been surviving on two-minute noodles, fruit, and tap water for far too long, and it had begun to take a toll on my once curvy figure.

      That is the least of your problems, Clara.

      Buying a newspaper as I walk past the newsagency, I take a seat on a bench and skim over the employment ads. Pulling a pen from my handbag, I circle a few of the job positions I think I could manage, most of them being reception or retail work. I don’t think I’d be very good at sales, but I am good at customer service. Sliding the newspaper under my arm, I walk into a few businesses and ask if they’re looking to hire anyone. Three say no, and one says maybe, stating they will give me a call. Feeling hopeful, I head to the closest coffee shop to splurge on a latte. After paying the cashier, I take my warm drink and walk back towards the bus stop. As I’m leaving the coffee shop, however, I bump into someone.

      Or did he bump into me?

      My latte falls to the ground, splashing both of us on the way down.

      Shit, I mutter, the newspaper under my arm falling too. Wiping my hand down my now, not-so-crisp white shirt, I lift the material away from my skin so it doesn’t burn me.

      Fuck, I’m sorry, comes a deep, masculine tone.

      I look up into a pair of dark eyes.

      It’s okay, I mutter. Just seems to be the month I’m having.

      He runs a hand over his shaved head. Your shirt is ruined.

      I’ll live.

      He reaches down and picks up the newspaper, glancing at it before handing it back to me.

      At least let me give you my shirt, he says, staring at the stain on my left breast.

      I raise my eyebrow. You going to walk around shirtless then?

      He smirks. Not quite.

      He pulls off his black shirt, revealing a white wife beater underneath.

      Holy muscles.

      My eyes grow wide at the sight of his broad shoulders and ripped biceps, and I couldn’t help but notice a flash of his smooth, hard chest through the thin material.

      I didn’t know they made them like this in real life.

      What? he asks amid a soft chuckle.

      I snap out of it. What? I didn’t say anything.

      His lips kick up at the corners as he hands me his shirt. It’s not necessary.

      You looking for a job? he asks. I might be able to help.

      I glance up at him in suspicion. What kind of job are we talking about here?

      He grins at that, rubbing his hand over his goatee. I never liked goatees,

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