By Yves Beauchemin
Mélanie Gervais, une jeune Trifluvienne d’une beauté à faire damner un saint, quitte sa ville natale dès sa majorité pour s’établir à Montréal. Elle y fait l. a. connaissance de Pierrot Bernard, un aspirant romancier quinquagénaire dont les pursuits semblent sur le aspect de se concrétiser.
Malheureusement, les apparences sont souvent trompeuses. Lorsqu’elle rencontre Justin Périgord, qui se dit prêt à publier le roman de Bernard, Mélanie begin à douter de los angeles noblesse des intentions de l’éditeur improvisé.
La tournure des événements cimente l. a. méfiance de Mélanie à l’égard des hommes et des affaires de coeur. Fuyant Périgord et le Café Cherrier où elle travaillait, elle se retrouve à l’emploi de l’Haïtienne Gerbederose Café, en compagnie de l’ex-itinérant Tonio Blanchet. Avec le cégépien Louis Perez, un patron qui tombe éperdument amoureux de los angeles belle serveuse, peut-être pourront-ils aider Mélanie à affronter les épreuves qui s’annoncent...
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Additional info for La Serveuse du Café Cherrier
It had taken her years to worm her way into Little Hyssop’s good graces, and she didn’t have the patience now for the subterfuge. But the most troublesome aspect was if Deb contacted her—or even, miracle of miracles, returned the bloody necklace—she wouldn’t know it. She might be on the run for the next six months. The candle wavered as she heaved a sigh. She would think better on a full stomach. But when she reached the top of the steps that led down to the kitchen, she nearly tumbled straight down when she heard the laughter.
He bent over and began to lick the raspberries and whipped cream from her belly. She tried to lie still—she did, really, but when the tip of his tongue circled her navel, then dipped in, she jumped. Apparently finished with her stomach, he scooped more from the bowl and rubbed a dollop of pink on one nipple, then stood back to admire his handiwork. “This is outrageous! ” “I quite agree. ” He decorated the other breast as well, heaping a mound of raspberry-streaked cream on her aureole. Charlotte knew her nipples were stiff with cold and decadence.
That’s the hole in their grand security scheme. As if men can control themselves and their tallywags until dark. Of course, most of the Janes respect the gentlemen who’ve set them up here and don’t dally unless that’s what their gentlemen want them to do so they can watch. ” Mrs. Kelly put the tart down on a linen napkin. “I suppose I can’t really blame her. She saw her chance to catch a husband. Lord knows, Sir Michael might never marry again, and he’s sure not to marry a whore. ” Bread stuck in Charlotte’s throat.