JК
Ыоуве Been Warned :: Patterson James
Страница: 105 из 138”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I was too loud!
I reach the stairwell entrance, frantically pushing through the door. Did he see me? Would he recognize me from behind? Or from the front, for that matter?
I’m about to race down the stairs when my gut steers me in the opposite direction. Up! Go up!
Dashing up the steps, I reach the landing halfway to the next floor and throw myself against the cold concrete wall, out of view, I hope. I hold my breath, listening for Stephen.
Sure enough, he was right behind me. He’s running down the stairs. My gut was right.
I tiptoe to the railing and steal a quick glance. A couple of flights below, I can see the top of Stephen’s head. Also on display are his bare shoulders. He’s wearing nothing but a towel.
He continues downward, probably thinking I’m headed for the lobby.
That’s when I hear it. The voice I love to hate.
“Honey?” Penley calls out. “Where are you?”
On a dime, he stops. Penley must have him wrapped around her bony little finger.
“I’m down here,” he calls back.
“Who was making the noise in the hall?” she asks.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Oh, I see. So you’d rather run around the hotel half naked than have sex with me? Okay. Fine.”
It’s classic Penley. And before you can say “horndog,” Stephen’s racing back up the stairs to her.
It’s a miracle, all right.
Praise the Pencil!
Chapter 82
“YOU’REWHERE? ” he asks.
“Outside the Fálcon Hotel,” I answer. “Where you need to be right away. Please come… Yes, I want you to drop everything.”
I quickly explain why.
“I’ll be right there,” Michael tells me. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
I don’t. I remain perched on a stool behind the window of a Starbucks across the street. There’s a perfect view of the Fálcon’s entrance, the red awning eclipsed only by the occasional bus or delivery truck passing by. After Stephen chased me into that stairwell, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to stick around inside. Plus, there’s the matter of my history with the hotel. Poor little Kristin’s first days in New York. A horror story in itself. But definitely one for another time.
Anyway, a picture might be worth a thousand words, but having Michael see Penley’s affair in the flesh -as it were – speaks for itself.
Now he has to get here before they leave.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I was too loud!
I reach the stairwell entrance, frantically pushing through the door. Did he see me? Would he recognize me from behind? Or from the front, for that matter?
I’m about to race down the stairs when my gut steers me in the opposite direction. Up! Go up!
Dashing up the steps, I reach the landing halfway to the next floor and throw myself against the cold concrete wall, out of view, I hope. I hold my breath, listening for Stephen.
Sure enough, he was right behind me. He’s running down the stairs. My gut was right.
I tiptoe to the railing and steal a quick glance. A couple of flights below, I can see the top of Stephen’s head. Also on display are his bare shoulders. He’s wearing nothing but a towel.
He continues downward, probably thinking I’m headed for the lobby.
That’s when I hear it. The voice I love to hate.
“Honey?” Penley calls out. “Where are you?”
On a dime, he stops. Penley must have him wrapped around her bony little finger.
“I’m down here,” he calls back.
“Who was making the noise in the hall?” she asks.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Oh, I see. So you’d rather run around the hotel half naked than have sex with me? Okay. Fine.”
It’s classic Penley. And before you can say “horndog,” Stephen’s racing back up the stairs to her.
It’s a miracle, all right.
Praise the Pencil!
Chapter 82
“YOU’REWHERE? ” he asks.
“Outside the Fálcon Hotel,” I answer. “Where you need to be right away. Please come… Yes, I want you to drop everything.”
I quickly explain why.
“I’ll be right there,” Michael tells me. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
I don’t. I remain perched on a stool behind the window of a Starbucks across the street. There’s a perfect view of the Fálcon’s entrance, the red awning eclipsed only by the occasional bus or delivery truck passing by. After Stephen chased me into that stairwell, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to stick around inside. Plus, there’s the matter of my history with the hotel. Poor little Kristin’s first days in New York. A horror story in itself. But definitely one for another time.
Anyway, a picture might be worth a thousand words, but having Michael see Penley’s affair in the flesh -as it were – speaks for itself.
Now he has to get here before they leave.