One Perfect French Summer

 

Summer doesn’t last forever, but can a perfect one change your life?

For successful estate agent Freya Henderson, life is all work

…and no play. But, when she crosses paths with carefree young surfer, Luke Stevenson, there’s no denying the attraction between them.  When Luke invites her to join him on a working holiday in France, it’s a real dilemma. Is it time to throw caution to the wind? Perhaps an enchanting summer fling with no strings attached would be a great way to de-stress and finally allow herself some fun.

As he takes her on a magical mystery tour of gorgeous locations among stunning châteaux, picturesque villages and sun-kissed vineyards, Freya can’t help feeling there’s something missing in her life… perhaps even a man like Luke.  But how well does she know him? Is he just looking for a summer adventure, or is he running away from something?

As the summer draws to a close, can Freya and Luke simply slip back into their old lives, or will they be left wondering ‘What if?’

Maybe this summer romance never has to end…

 

 

 

Release date: 7 May, 2024.

Available on multiple platforms in various formats. For Amazon UK and US click on the buy links below:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/One-Perfect-French-Summer-heartwarming-ebook/dp/B0CW1N3DJN

HTTPS://WWW.AMAZON.COM/ONE-PERFECT-FRENCH-SUMMER-HEARTWARMING-EBOOK/DP/B0CW1N3DJN

 

Audio link:

UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Audible-One-Perfect-French-Summer/dp/B0CYHFMNS7

USA – HTTPS://WWW.AMAZON.COM/AUDIBLE-ONE-PERFECT-FRENCH-SUMMER/DP/B0CYHFP8DF

 

READ CHAPTER ONE:

‘What Luke helped me realise, is that we learn from each other. Striving to be the best version of me is all I need to focus on. And wisdom is the result of life experiences, because age is . . . just a number.’

Freya Henderson

 

 

 

Freya

 

June

 

Sevenoaks, Kent

 

1

The Price of Success

 

 

‘Yes!’ I punch the air as I place the phone back down on my desk.

When I glance around me, I’m conscious that the whole team has stopped what they’re doing. ‘Sorry . . . youthful exuberance,’ I laugh. ‘I’ve just landed the contract for that barn conversion at Edenbridge.’ Not a bad way to kick off a delightfully sunny Monday morning in June, taking on a million-pound-plus property.

Naturally, constantly striving to up our game and knowing that at least two of our competitors were asked to value the prestigious property too, there’s a chorus of whoops.

‘Well done, Freya,’ my best friend and business partner, Beth Masters, calls across the office. ‘The photos are going to make an awesome display in the centre of our window.’

She’s right, but now the pressure is on. I’m fully booked through until next Tuesday morning and while our photographer is good, he’s going to need my direction on this one. It must be literally picture perfect, because the Fosters happened to drop into the conversation that one of their neighbours is thinking of downsizing too and will shortly be looking for an agent.

Our office manager, Ethan Edwards, saunters up to my desk, indicating towards the chair opposite me. ‘I know you’re busy, Freya, but can I have a quick word?’

Ethan has only been with us for eight months but he’s more than proven himself. Everything runs smoothly now after a period that Beth and I refer back to as the twilight zone. The previous incumbent came with a glowing CV and while she was great with the clients, her IT skills fell far short of what was promised. She not only managed to delete a whole load of files, which we managed to recover from our backups, but after a routine system upgrade none of us were recognised as users. We lost an entire day’s work online when we had to call in a troubleshooter to sort it all out.

‘Always. What’s up?’

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he assures me, hastily. But, as he lowers himself down onto the seat, I can tell that his thoughts are churning. ‘I’ve been speaking to this couple on and off for a couple of weeks now. They’re moving into the area and are getting desperate to find a property. I’ve sent them details of everything new that we’ve taken on within their price range but they’re looking for something special. I think the barn could be it.’ He raises his eyebrows, his eyes shining with optimism.

I know what’s coming next. ‘We don’t let people view until the property details are online, Ethan. Besides—’ I pass the file over to him ready to be actioned ‘—until you’ve emailed Mr and Mrs Foster the contract and they’ve returned it duly signed, the barn isn’t officially on our books.’

‘I know, I know,’ he states, putting up his hands to reassure me he understands our strict protocol. ‘But when the Fosters rang to book the appointment and they were telling me a little bit about their property, I had that eureka moment.’ He flashes me a pointed look.

I nod my head, because I know that feeling well. ‘Right client, right time, right place?’

‘I think that might just be the case with this one. If I get the contract printed off and drop it in to them on my way home from work this evening . . .’ He’s keen, I’ll give him that. And that’s exactly what this business is all about.

‘The couple you’re talking to are proceed-able and vetted, I assume?’

‘Yes. The cash is in the bank and they’re growing more and more dispirited by the day because he’s about to start a new job.’

A quick sale would suit the Fosters down to the ground. They’re downsizing now that the last of their three sons is at university. They have a smart new camper van parked up in the paddock next to the barn; it’s sitting there waiting for them to start a six-month tour around Europe in a week’s time. It will be Mrs Foster’s sister who will be giving us access to the property.

‘Look, Ethan, the reason we don’t jump the gun with viewings is to protect both ourselves, and our clients. Until the marketing campaign begins, we have no idea what level of interest we’re going to get. A good response could see them getting multiple offers above the initial selling price we agree to list it at.’

His smile fades. ‘I understand that, Freya. If you don’t mind, though, I’ll get the paperwork sorted this afternoon and, as I said, I’ll pop it into them on my way home. Just to help speed things along.’ Now that’s commitment.

‘OK, that’s fine with me. If they ask you to wait while they sign it, then I’ll broach the subject of your prospective purchasers with them when I call to book the session with the photographer. How’s that?’

Ethan’s smile returns. ‘Ace,’ he replies, as he hurries back to his desk to start work.

Only Ethan could talk me into that. I guess I’m a sucker for a cheeky smile when it’s backed up by a genuine desire to get a result.

I head out to the staff kitchen to grab a coffee and seconds later Beth enters. ‘Did Ethan just sweet talk you into bending the rules?’ she muses.

‘Hmm . . . maybe a little, but we’ll see how it turns out. Actually, I valued the barn at a tad over what I think it will achieve because it has quite a bit of land and the location couldn’t be better. It’ll make a perfect home for a discerning purchaser, and it should attract a premium.’

She shakes her head at me, laughing. ‘What is it with you and younger men?’

Beth has hit the nail on the head but it’s a sore point right now. ‘Do you fancy going for something to eat after work?’

‘That sounds good to me. Shall I book our usual table?’

Are we creatures of habit, or what? ‘Perfect. Right.’ I glance at my watch. ‘I’m off to do a viewing in half an hour and I’ve a few calls to make first. It’s going to be another busy day and all I can say is bring it on!’

<line break>

I wait for Beth to join me at our favourite restaurant, Fresh and Wild. They do the most amazing fish dishes, and you won’t find the word fried anywhere on the menu. Everything is either steamed or baked en papillote – the old traditional French style of cooking items in an envelope of greaseproof paper.

I start thinking about how the business has grown. I don’t often reflect on what we’ve achieved, as there’s always another milestone seemingly within reach and that’s where our focus lies.

Hearth and Home Estate Agency was started by Beth’s father back in the early nineties. Following his death almost six years ago, his estate passed to Beth and her brother, Harry. As a civil engineer, Harry had no interest in the business and it left them with a dilemma. Beth had been working alongside her father since she was twenty-five years old and if their mother were still alive they knew even she would have expected them to step up. However, Beth couldn’t manage to run things on her own and Harry felt he was letting his sister down.

When Beth asked if I was interested in buying Harry out of his share, I was a sales negotiator at an estate agency across town. While I had some savings in the bank, it was nowhere near the sort of figure a 50 per cent stake was worth. In the end, we struck up an arrangement and by the end of our fourth year of running the business together, my debt to Harry was fully paid up.

‘Hey . . . you were deep in thought there!’

Beth sinks down gratefully into the chair opposite.

‘Yes. I was thinking about how far we’ve come.’

‘It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it? Is this carafe of house wine to share?’

‘Yes, and as the saying goes, sharing is caring,’ I reply, reaching out to pour the wine.

We chink glasses and she eyes me, suspiciously.

‘There’s something you’re not telling me. You know it’ll come out some time or other, so why not get it off your chest?’

It’s hard not to look guilty. ‘I haven’t been to the gym for six days.’

Her face falls. ‘What? You were doing so well. The doctor said you need to go at least three times a week, four if possible. It’s not like you to quit on anything, Freya, and this is about your health, so that makes no sense whatsoever.’

I can feel my shoulders beginning to slump. ‘I know. I had a nice routine going, too. And I haven’t had a takeaway in well over a month. I’m following his recommendations to the letter.’

‘No,’ she states, firmly. ‘He told you that exercise is important to help combat the symptoms.’

I sigh. ‘I know and it did help, but I . . . um . . . need to find another gym.’

‘Freya, that’s a lame excuse. Admit it, you’ve had a scare and it’s a wake-up call.’

Working long hours, having your evening meal delivered to the door and then after only four hours’ sleep, lying in bed clock-watching until dawn breaks, does not constitute a healthy lifestyle. I get it, though, I was overloading my system.

Too much time spent on electronic devices, a poor diet and not enough exercise . . . no wonder my heart would suddenly start racing and I’d break out into a cold sweat. Having it spelt out to you that you’re putting your body into a constant flight or fight mode, which is why I couldn’t sleep, isn’t what you want to hear. I was looking for a quick fix solution. Drink less caffeine maybe or eat more veggies. But like everything else in life, nothing is ever simple.

‘I don’t feel comfortable there,’ I explain, hoping she’ll think it’s all the he-men lifting weights putting me off.

‘Oh no . . . it’s that guy . . . What’s his name?’

‘Luke.’ I can’t help smiling to myself as I think of him. That long, dark curly hair, usually neatly tied back at the nape of his neck because he’s always on the go. It suits him, though.

‘Ah . . . your cool surfer dude.’

‘He isn’t my anything,’ I reply, pointedly.

‘Doesn’t he live in Cornwall?’

‘Yes, he’s staying locally with friends of his.’

‘Hmm. He’s been here quite a while; that’s very accommodating of them.’

‘OK, I admit we’ve been spending a bit of time together, but it’s starting to get a little awkward now.’

Beth’s expression freezes. ‘Oh no! You said it was just the odd drink you’ve been having together. He hasn’t stayed over at your place – has he? You said he was way too young and frivolous for you to take him seriously. And he doesn’t have a job, I mean, you two are like opposite ends of the scale.’

‘Did I use the word frivolous?’ I question, trying my best to remember the conversation. That was a tad condescending of me. Beth said I had a sparkle in my eye that morning and she’d started quizzing me.

Luke is good company but now I know him a little better . . . a lot better, actually. ‘I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it; he’s spontaneous and fun to be around,’ I reflect.

‘Just like you then,’ she snorts, and I start laughing as she sips her drink.

‘Unlike me, but it’s good to have a little fun for a change. Except that—’ I draw to a halt, as Beth is now staring at me, and I know I can’t leave it there. ‘He’s been teaching me how to meditate, he says it’s a good way of slowing everything down.’

‘Really?’ I can see she’s keen to know more. ‘So, he’s both energetic and an advocate for peace and tranquillity. Isn’t that the epitome of a balanced life? He could be a good influence on you, Freya.’

I roll my eyes at her. ‘Luke is interesting and flirtatious because he’s young and hasn’t really found his thing in life yet. He says he’s keeping his options open for now, but he’s hopeful that one day he’ll find himself in the right place at the right time.’

‘Hmm . . . now that sounds a little naive to me. Reading between the lines, you’ve had a little fling – which you’ve been ominously quiet about – but you’re regretting it already.’

Is that the problem? I wonder. What scares me is how quickly Luke has become the highlight of my day and that’s not a good thing. I love my life just as it is. Work inspires me, I’m free to do what I want – when I want. My cottage in Eynsford, six miles from Sevenoaks and a thirteen-minute train ride away from the office, might be bijou, but it’s the home of my dreams.

Besides, my life is perfect without a man in it because, in my experience, it’s a complication I don’t need right now. Beth and I intend to make Hearth and Home the number one estate agency in town, as second place simply won’t do.

‘It’s been great, but he’s a traveller and now he wants to whisk me away for the summer. A mate has let him down and he thinks it’ll be cathartic for me to step outside of my comfort zone.’

Beth’s eyes widen. ‘He does? Where? Some exotic island?’ She’s jesting with me.

‘No. As far as I can tell, it’s a working road trip through France in a van.’

She sits back in her seat, looking relieved. ‘He doesn’t know you then, Freya. In a van? You like your creature comforts way too much to be tempted by that. If it’s a working holiday, he obviously has an itinerary.’

I nod my head. ‘I assume so, but I didn’t ask any questions because I didn’t want him to think I was taking his offer seriously. It’s a trip he first undertook when he was just eighteen years old, apparently. Luke and his friend have done it every year since, but this year the guy can’t make it.’

‘Hmm . . . it sounds interesting. What exactly does the trip involve?’

‘He mentioned something about helping at an old manor house in northern France to prepare for a week-long gourmet extravaganza and picking fruit and vegetables, I think. We were in a rather noisy bar at the time and I certainly wasn’t going to quiz him. He raises the topic every time we meet and I change the subject the first opportunity I get.’

‘And he sleeps in a van?’ Beth starts giggling. ‘Unless it’s a luxury caravan with a toilet and a shower, and there’s somewhere to plug in a hairdryer, he doesn’t have a chance of enticing you to join him.’

I look at her, straight-faced. ‘I’m not thinking of going. It’s a two-month trip!’ I exclaim.

‘On the other hand, maybe in your case it’s just what the doctor ordered. A couple of months away from work to de-stress, enjoy nature and all that wonderful fresh air. Getting hands-on doing a multitude of tasks is free exercise and, no doubt, you’ll be eating a lot healthier. Pub meals and takeaways won’t be an option.’

‘Ha! You couldn’t cope without me,’ I chuckle.

‘I could, if it puts you back on track, Freya. I’ve been doing some online research, and I don’t want you burning yourself out. Ethan is keen to get some experience as a sales negotiator, and if we hired some temporary help to run the office side of things, he could take on a part of your role. To be honest, if we don’t offer him a chance to step up before too long, we could lose him.’

Suddenly, she’s taking this seriously. ‘But how would that work?’

Beth sits quietly for a moment as her mind ticks over. ‘He could split his time. As office manager and trainee sales negotiator, he’d keep an eye on a new administrator, but in between I’d start training him up.’

‘Are you ladies ready to order?’ the waitress checks.

‘I think we are,’ Beth confirms, as she glances at me. ‘We’ll have our usual, please.’

The waitress gives a little smile. ‘No problem.’

‘That’s us to a T, isn’t it? The usual,’ I mumble.

‘But it needn’t be, Freya. You’re overdue a relaxing holiday. I pop off to the Canary Islands every summer to spend two weeks at my aunt’s luxury villa. You take a few days off in summer, usually to spend time in your beautiful garden and that’s it. All I’m saying is that if you really do enjoy his company, think about it. What an experience it would be, and you’d come back refreshed.’

Goodness. That’s not the way I thought this conversation would go. I’m just about to enrol at a gym that’s a car ride away from the office, simply to avoid Luke. He’s getting desperate because I won’t answer his calls anymore. I told him straight; I’m happy with my life exactly the way it is, and he needs to go off and have a wonderful summer in France – without me.

 

One Perfect French Summer…

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