A First Move

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
For some, it takes time to realise they have actually fallen in love.

Sarah Arva is different. She believes that if someone is made for you, a cup of coffee should fix it all.

She hates the wandering about in a relationship for years, and she believes marriage should be on top of the list. When the flirting begins, it is followed up with confusion and misunderstanding at work.

But when Tobias Kinza gets transferred to San Francisco all of a sudden, just when Sarah has finally agreed she really likes him, she decides to make a move.

Why can’t a girl make the first move? But it has to be sensible. Sarah Arva has a wise plan, and she doesn’t want to regret it when she turns fifty.

But would Tobias Kinza respond the same? Will he declare how he feels? And was Sarah perfectly sure it’s not an infatuation, but Mr. Right?

Heart-warming, and romantic, A First Move is a story that will make you laugh, sad, and support Sarah when she finally realises she doesn’t want to regret whole her life.

Table of Contents

chapter one

Submitted: May 11, 2017

The tawny rays projecting from the sun, flickered, touching the titanium sides of the tall refined buildings. People to and fro, some were stumbling while chasing the yellow cabs, others ambling down the street with their high heels, knocking the ground, red lipstick on, and mini skirts. A city full of buzz just as the surrounding of honeycombs, where foreigners dawdling around holding their small high-tech screens, snapping the amazing scenery, the East river, and the long fabricated exquisite Brooklyn Bridge. It was my most favourite place in the prominent city of New York, with its lights reining the whole city at night, and delivering the most romantic place to me. I would often stop over at Brooklyn Bridge whenever I needed some time on my own, but for now I had to rush off for a job interview in Manhattan. I ran after the green double - decker bus, I knew it would flag down since it was nearing a bus stop. My feet were hardly on the ground, since I was racing behind the double - decker – my heart began to throw a heavy beat, and I was worried as my perspiration attempted to slop my fair make up. I board in the bus, heaving a sigh of relief, wiping off the drops of perspiration on my forehead. It was a very short journey. I alighted at Manhattan station and walked down as according to my Satellite navigation, it was only a few blocks away from the station. As I approached the skyscraper with a mix of Greek and futuristic architecture, I slowed down, taking a long breath, with my hands turning out colder. Read Chapter


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