JК
Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 74 из 205”
“So would I”
We stared at each other for a long space of moments. Neither of us was willing to look away, to blink first. Bert started to smile, still staring into my eyes. The edges of a smile began to tug at my mouth. We laughed together and that was that.
“All right, Anita, no more vampires.”
I stood. “Thank you.”
“Would you really quit?” His face was all laughing sincerity, a tasteful, pleasant mask.
“I don't believe in idle threats, Bert. You know that.”
“Yes,” he said, “I know that. I honestly didn't know this job would endanger your life.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
He thought about it for a minute, then laughed. “No, but I would have charged more.”
“You keep making money, Bert. That's what you're good at.”
“Amen.”
I left him so he could fondle the check in privacy. Maybe chuckle over it. It was blood money, no pun intended. Somehow, I didn't think that bothered Bert. It bothered me.
18
The door to the other office opened. A tall, blonde woman stepped through. She was somewhere between forty and fifty. Tailored golden pants encircled a slender waist. A sleeveless blouse the color of an eggshell exposed tanned arms, a gold Rolex watch, and a wedding band encircled with diamonds. The rock in the engagement ring must have weighed a pound. I bet she hadn't even blinked when Jamison talked price.
The boy that followed her was also slender and blond. He looked about fifteen, but I knew he had to be at least eighteen. Legally, you cannot join the Church of Eternal Life unless you are of age. He couldn't drink legally yet, but he could choose to die and live forever. Funny, how that didn't make much sense to me.
Jamison brought up the rear, smiling, solicitous. He was talking softly to the boy as he walked them towards the door.
I got a business card out of my purse. I held it out towards the woman. She looked at it, then at me. Her gaze slid over me from top to bottom. She didn't seem impressed; maybe it was the shirt. “Yes,” she said.
Breeding. It takes real breeding to make a person feel like shit with one word. Of course, it didn't bother me. No, the great golden goddess did not make me feel small and grubby. Right. “The number on this card is for a man who specializes in vampire cults. He's good.”
“I do not want my son brainwashed.”
I managed a smile. Raymond Fields was my vampire cult expert, and he didn't do brainwashing. He did do truth, no matter how unpleasant. “Mr.
“So would I”
We stared at each other for a long space of moments. Neither of us was willing to look away, to blink first. Bert started to smile, still staring into my eyes. The edges of a smile began to tug at my mouth. We laughed together and that was that.
“All right, Anita, no more vampires.”
I stood. “Thank you.”
“Would you really quit?” His face was all laughing sincerity, a tasteful, pleasant mask.
“I don't believe in idle threats, Bert. You know that.”
“Yes,” he said, “I know that. I honestly didn't know this job would endanger your life.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
He thought about it for a minute, then laughed. “No, but I would have charged more.”
“You keep making money, Bert. That's what you're good at.”
“Amen.”
I left him so he could fondle the check in privacy. Maybe chuckle over it. It was blood money, no pun intended. Somehow, I didn't think that bothered Bert. It bothered me.
18
The door to the other office opened. A tall, blonde woman stepped through. She was somewhere between forty and fifty. Tailored golden pants encircled a slender waist. A sleeveless blouse the color of an eggshell exposed tanned arms, a gold Rolex watch, and a wedding band encircled with diamonds. The rock in the engagement ring must have weighed a pound. I bet she hadn't even blinked when Jamison talked price.
The boy that followed her was also slender and blond. He looked about fifteen, but I knew he had to be at least eighteen. Legally, you cannot join the Church of Eternal Life unless you are of age. He couldn't drink legally yet, but he could choose to die and live forever. Funny, how that didn't make much sense to me.
Jamison brought up the rear, smiling, solicitous. He was talking softly to the boy as he walked them towards the door.
I got a business card out of my purse. I held it out towards the woman. She looked at it, then at me. Her gaze slid over me from top to bottom. She didn't seem impressed; maybe it was the shirt. “Yes,” she said.
Breeding. It takes real breeding to make a person feel like shit with one word. Of course, it didn't bother me. No, the great golden goddess did not make me feel small and grubby. Right. “The number on this card is for a man who specializes in vampire cults. He's good.”
“I do not want my son brainwashed.”
I managed a smile. Raymond Fields was my vampire cult expert, and he didn't do brainwashing. He did do truth, no matter how unpleasant. “Mr.