The Love Island Bookshop by Kate Frost (ebook reader with internet browser .TXT) 📕

bought a rundown farmhouse with land and have turned it into an award-winning winery and guest house. I have an older brother too – there’re twelve years between us. He lives in France with his family, so we’re spread out all over the place.’

‘So you don’t see them often?’

Freya shook her head. ‘Not my parents no. And my brother only an occasional Christmas or for a holiday. These fish balls are incredible.’ She stabbed her fork into another one and popped it into her mouth. It would be rude to talk with her mouth full and he obviously realised that.

‘We’ll get the boat to Malé late tomorrow morning, then I’ve arranged for you to fly on to Loabi Fushi. You’ll have a day or two to get settled in and familiarise yourself with the place. Then the focus will be getting the bookshop ready to open. It’s unique and something special in an already special place. The main thing is to remember you’re the face of the bookshop, therefore the face of the island. I’ve set up a photo shoot for later in the week. There’s lots to do – the blog to write, events to plan. It’s an exciting project.’

The face of the island. What did he mean by that? Did it really matter about her publishing background and her knowledge of books and the industry when he was suggesting it was the way she looked that would continue to sell his brand of luxury? She’d seen the images used on the island website, a gorgeous young couple enjoying all Loabi Fushi had to offer. Were they actual guests, photographed because they were gorgeous, or models paid for their time? There was a certain look and opinion to be gaged from the images used.

Why was she even surprised? She’d read enough about him to have seen this coming a mile off. She reminded herself that this was no ordinary bookshop; it was no ordinary job either. She knew she needed to hold back making assumptions, but...

‘You won’t be back on the island until...?’

‘For a couple more days. Then we can get together and go through things – see how you’re getting on. Until then, you’ll be in good hands with Meena; she’ll show you the ropes.’

Chapter Five

The seaplane was small with just her, the pilot and two couples on board. Freya’s whirlwind twenty-four hours on Makumathi had given her a taste of being a guest and part of her hadn’t wanted to leave. Maybe she should have opted for a two-week holiday of a lifetime on a Maldivian island rather than giving everything up to work thousands of miles away from home. The nerves were kicking in again as she gazed out of the small oval window at the endless ocean. She knew she’d be okay once they landed and she finally got to see the island where she’d be living for the foreseeable future.

Zander had confused her. He was charming and handsome, which she’d expected, but a couple of his comments had made her question why he’d chosen her to run the bookshop. She’d left behind a good job, a decent flat and lots of friends to live and work on a tropical island, and once her nine months were up, she needed to have an idea of what she wanted to do when she went back to the UK. She had no regrets in leaving behind a city for a slice of paradise – for a short time at least.

The seaplane glided in. The island was much larger than the one she’d left that morning. Pearly white sand surrounded a forest of green with only the dark grey of thatched roofs visible through the palm and ficus trees. The other difference was the long wooden walkway stretching across the house reef with luxurious over-water villas leading off it. A little further out, lapped by azure water, was a heart-shaped sand bank, by all accounts where the name Loabi Fushi – or Love Island – came from.

They dropped lower and bumped across the smooth surface of the turquoise water. It was such a brilliant colour; it didn’t seem real. How was it possible for somewhere to be this beautiful and unspoilt? It highlighted the life she’d left behind. She thought she enjoyed living and working in London with its large leafy parks and open spaces, historic buildings and architecture, but in reality not everywhere was like that. On a gloomy day away from the parks and wealthy streets with pristinely kept town houses, there was a grimmer side that went hand in hand with city living: overflowing bins, smog-stained buildings, cigarette ends littering the pavements, streets choked with traffic, and graffiti scrawled brickwork. Her parents had upped and left their comfortable life in England for the other side of the world, while her older brother and his family had swapped the suburbs of London for an idyllic French farmhouse within walking distance of woods, ice-clear streams and lavender fields. Perhaps moving countries was in her family’s blood.

All Freya could see as she reached the jetty of Loabi Fushi was sparkling water, white sand and a wall of trees against a backdrop of a cloud-free sky. As soon as she got the job, Freya had pored over the website, drooling over the luxurious villas, the swathes of white beaches, the spa and the numerous restaurants – but the reality was even better. From the moment she stepped off the seaplane it was evident the island effortlessly combined its natural surroundings with first class luxury.

Pretty much every island in the Maldives had the tagline of ‘barefoot luxury’ and she was ready to kick off her slip-on trainers as soon as her feet touched the wooden decking. Grains of sand were lodged between the grooves and impossibly clear water from the swell of the seaplane splashed the sides.

The couples were being greeted by two women with cold towels, while a third woman dressed simply in a beige skirt and a white