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. Where d you get all this? He hides his gun away inside hisshirt, breaking apart the first three buttonsto reveal a black strap down one side ofhis chest that I can only assume is attachedto a gun holster of sorts. You don t want to know. I leave it at that and slip on fourrings, two on each hand, and then amatching bracelet, necklace and earringset.Then I grab my little white hand purseand Victor hooks my arm within his justbefore we walk out the door.L.A.is just like it is in themovies: a vast infrastructure boomingwith lights and tall buildings andexpensive cars and white roads lined withpalm trees and multi-million dollarhouses.We ride in a black convertibleMercedes-Benz Roadster, though with the top in-tact, through the sprawling city.Itwas parked at the front of the hotelwaiting for us when we came outside.Iguess doing what he does has its perks.It s not all about killing people for money,but having whatever he needs at hisdisposal that will ensure he can carry outevery job he s given.We arrive at the restaurant in thewealthiest part of town, no doubt, wellafter dark.A valet opens my door for me.I start to smile and tell him thank you onceI get out, but I catch myself quickly andswallow my error before anyone notices.Instead, I raise my chin and don t evenoffer the guy a look in the eyes, much lessa smile or a thank you.Victor comes around to my sideof the car and I loop my arm through his again as he walks me inside.The restaurant is two stories witha balcony upstairs overlooking the bottomfloor.The conversation all around mesounds like a constant humming, but it snot so packed that every table is full.Other than the voices, it s quiet in herewith low lighting and semi-dark walls tocreate a tranquil atmosphere.Victor pullsme alongside him gently as we follow thewaiter to a circular-shaped booth withshiny black leather seats near the back.Isit down first and then Victor slides innext to me.The waiter presents us with twoleather-bound menus, but before he canplace mine fully on the table in front ofme, I sweep my hand toward it, waving itaway with a look of boredom. I won t be eating, I say as if food might somehowruin my path to enlightenment. But I willbe having wine. The waiter looks at the menu inhis hand and then back at me briefly,appearing confused.Victor gives me a look which Ican t quite place, but I know it s not agood one.He opens his menu and afterstudying it for a moment, hands it back tothe waiter and says, La Serena Brunellodi Montalcino. The waiter nods, takes themenu, which is apparently the wine menuand I m about to die from embarrassment,and he walks away. Sorry, I whisper.Victor s eyes lock on mewarningly.It takes me a second, but Iunderstand what I m doing wrong and wipe that embarrassed look off my facefast, straightening my back against the seatand crossing my legs beneath the table.Iset my purse on the table at my right.This staying in character is stuffharder than I thought, but now that I vealready screwed up twice within minutes,I m more determined than ever to get itright.In seconds, I fully become IzabelSeyfried.I reach into my purse and pull outa compact mirror and a tube of rose-colored lipstick and begin applying it atthe table.I make sure to stare at myself alot, turning my head subtly at differentangles and gently pursing my lips. Put the lipstick away, Victorsays as the rich asshole and not the man I know.I glare softly at him and do as hesays, but take my time about it.The waiter comes back to ourbooth with a bottle of wine and with bothhands puts it into Victor s view.Victorvisually inspects it and then nods to thewaiter, who then pulls the cork and placesit on the table in front of Victor.Heinspects that, too, and while I m quietlywondering why so much effort is being putinto this on both of their parts, I saynothing and pretend not to care.Thewaiter pours a small amount into Victor sglass first and then takes a step back.Victor swirls the wine around in the glassfor a moment and then brings it to his noseand sniffs it before taking a sip.AfterVictor approves, the waiter fills my glass first and then Victor s.I don t look the waiter in the eyesbecause like the valet, he s not worthy ofmy precious attention.Victor declines food for the bothof us and the waiter leaves our table. I never enjoy this city when Icome here, he says, taking a sip of hiswine.I fit my fingers delicately aroundthe swell of my glass and do the same,afterwards placing it carefully back on thetable. Well, I personally would preferNew York, or France, I say, having noidea where I m going with this. I didn t ask you what you dprefer. He doesn t look at me.He sets his glass down. Why bring me out with youthen? I ask, cocking my head. I was onlytrying to engage you in conversation. Ilook away, crossing my arms over mychest.Victor looks right at me. Izabel,don t sit with your arms crossed like that.It makes you look like a stubborn child. Slowly, my arms fall away and Ifold my hands together within my lap,straightening my back. Come here, he says in a gentlertone.I slide over the few inchesseparating us and sit right next to him.His fingers dance along the backof my neck as he pulls my head towardhim.My heart pounds erratically when hebrushes his lips against the side of my face.Suddenly, I feel his other hand slipin-between my thighs and up my dress.Mybreath hitches.Do I part them? Do I freezeup and lock them in place? I know what Iwant to do, but I don t know what I shoulddo and my mind is about to run away withme. I have a surprise for youtonight, he whispers onto my ear.His hand moves closer to thewarmth between my legs.I gasp quietly, trying not to let himknow, though I m positive he definitelyknows. What kind of surprise? I ask,my head tilted back, resting in his hand.Just then another couple walks upto the table, a tall blonde-haired womanwith mile-long naked legs and an even taller man with his hand around the backof her waist.Victor stands up to greet them.Istay right where I m at, staying incharacter, yet at the same time not reallyhaving to pretend to be disappointed bytheir presence because I was enjoying themoment with Victor before we wereinterrupted; for a few minutes I hadforgotten why we were even here. Aria, the woman introducesherself. A pleasure, I say with obviousdistaste.She sits down on the other side ofthe rounded booth.The man takes theoutside seat after her, just as Victor sits. It has been a while, Victor, theman says with an accent that I can t place. How do they know each other? Yes, it has, my friend, Victorsays as he gestures for the waiter.The waiter comes right over andtakes the man s wine order. Izabel, Victor says, this is myold friend Fredrik from Sweden [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. Where d you get all this? He hides his gun away inside hisshirt, breaking apart the first three buttonsto reveal a black strap down one side ofhis chest that I can only assume is attachedto a gun holster of sorts. You don t want to know. I leave it at that and slip on fourrings, two on each hand, and then amatching bracelet, necklace and earringset.Then I grab my little white hand purseand Victor hooks my arm within his justbefore we walk out the door.L.A.is just like it is in themovies: a vast infrastructure boomingwith lights and tall buildings andexpensive cars and white roads lined withpalm trees and multi-million dollarhouses.We ride in a black convertibleMercedes-Benz Roadster, though with the top in-tact, through the sprawling city.Itwas parked at the front of the hotelwaiting for us when we came outside.Iguess doing what he does has its perks.It s not all about killing people for money,but having whatever he needs at hisdisposal that will ensure he can carry outevery job he s given.We arrive at the restaurant in thewealthiest part of town, no doubt, wellafter dark.A valet opens my door for me.I start to smile and tell him thank you onceI get out, but I catch myself quickly andswallow my error before anyone notices.Instead, I raise my chin and don t evenoffer the guy a look in the eyes, much lessa smile or a thank you.Victor comes around to my sideof the car and I loop my arm through his again as he walks me inside.The restaurant is two stories witha balcony upstairs overlooking the bottomfloor.The conversation all around mesounds like a constant humming, but it snot so packed that every table is full.Other than the voices, it s quiet in herewith low lighting and semi-dark walls tocreate a tranquil atmosphere.Victor pullsme alongside him gently as we follow thewaiter to a circular-shaped booth withshiny black leather seats near the back.Isit down first and then Victor slides innext to me.The waiter presents us with twoleather-bound menus, but before he canplace mine fully on the table in front ofme, I sweep my hand toward it, waving itaway with a look of boredom. I won t be eating, I say as if food might somehowruin my path to enlightenment. But I willbe having wine. The waiter looks at the menu inhis hand and then back at me briefly,appearing confused.Victor gives me a look which Ican t quite place, but I know it s not agood one.He opens his menu and afterstudying it for a moment, hands it back tothe waiter and says, La Serena Brunellodi Montalcino. The waiter nods, takes themenu, which is apparently the wine menuand I m about to die from embarrassment,and he walks away. Sorry, I whisper.Victor s eyes lock on mewarningly.It takes me a second, but Iunderstand what I m doing wrong and wipe that embarrassed look off my facefast, straightening my back against the seatand crossing my legs beneath the table.Iset my purse on the table at my right.This staying in character is stuffharder than I thought, but now that I vealready screwed up twice within minutes,I m more determined than ever to get itright.In seconds, I fully become IzabelSeyfried.I reach into my purse and pull outa compact mirror and a tube of rose-colored lipstick and begin applying it atthe table.I make sure to stare at myself alot, turning my head subtly at differentangles and gently pursing my lips. Put the lipstick away, Victorsays as the rich asshole and not the man I know.I glare softly at him and do as hesays, but take my time about it.The waiter comes back to ourbooth with a bottle of wine and with bothhands puts it into Victor s view.Victorvisually inspects it and then nods to thewaiter, who then pulls the cork and placesit on the table in front of Victor.Heinspects that, too, and while I m quietlywondering why so much effort is being putinto this on both of their parts, I saynothing and pretend not to care.Thewaiter pours a small amount into Victor sglass first and then takes a step back.Victor swirls the wine around in the glassfor a moment and then brings it to his noseand sniffs it before taking a sip.AfterVictor approves, the waiter fills my glass first and then Victor s.I don t look the waiter in the eyesbecause like the valet, he s not worthy ofmy precious attention.Victor declines food for the bothof us and the waiter leaves our table. I never enjoy this city when Icome here, he says, taking a sip of hiswine.I fit my fingers delicately aroundthe swell of my glass and do the same,afterwards placing it carefully back on thetable. Well, I personally would preferNew York, or France, I say, having noidea where I m going with this. I didn t ask you what you dprefer. He doesn t look at me.He sets his glass down. Why bring me out with youthen? I ask, cocking my head. I was onlytrying to engage you in conversation. Ilook away, crossing my arms over mychest.Victor looks right at me. Izabel,don t sit with your arms crossed like that.It makes you look like a stubborn child. Slowly, my arms fall away and Ifold my hands together within my lap,straightening my back. Come here, he says in a gentlertone.I slide over the few inchesseparating us and sit right next to him.His fingers dance along the backof my neck as he pulls my head towardhim.My heart pounds erratically when hebrushes his lips against the side of my face.Suddenly, I feel his other hand slipin-between my thighs and up my dress.Mybreath hitches.Do I part them? Do I freezeup and lock them in place? I know what Iwant to do, but I don t know what I shoulddo and my mind is about to run away withme. I have a surprise for youtonight, he whispers onto my ear.His hand moves closer to thewarmth between my legs.I gasp quietly, trying not to let himknow, though I m positive he definitelyknows. What kind of surprise? I ask,my head tilted back, resting in his hand.Just then another couple walks upto the table, a tall blonde-haired womanwith mile-long naked legs and an even taller man with his hand around the backof her waist.Victor stands up to greet them.Istay right where I m at, staying incharacter, yet at the same time not reallyhaving to pretend to be disappointed bytheir presence because I was enjoying themoment with Victor before we wereinterrupted; for a few minutes I hadforgotten why we were even here. Aria, the woman introducesherself. A pleasure, I say with obviousdistaste.She sits down on the other side ofthe rounded booth.The man takes theoutside seat after her, just as Victor sits. It has been a while, Victor, theman says with an accent that I can t place. How do they know each other? Yes, it has, my friend, Victorsays as he gestures for the waiter.The waiter comes right over andtakes the man s wine order. Izabel, Victor says, this is myold friend Fredrik from Sweden [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]