Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 2
”Katesitsinourlivingarea,surroundedbybooks.She’sclearlybeenstudyingforfinals—she’sstillinherpinkflannelpajamasdecoratedwithcutelittlerabbits,theonesshereservesfortheaftermathofbreakingupwithboyfriends,forassortedillnesses,andforgeneralmoodydepression.Sheboundsuptomeandhugsmehard.
“Iwasbeginningtoworry.Iexpectedyoubacksooner.”
“Oh,IthoughtImadegoodtimeconsideringtheinterviewranover.”Iwavethedigitalrecorderather.
“Ana,thankyousomuchfordoingthis.Ioweyou,Iknow.Howwasit?Whatwashelike?”Ohno—herewego,theKatherineKavanaghInquisition.
Istruggletoanswerherquestion.WhatcanIsay?
“I’mgladit’soverandIdon’thavetoseehimagain.Hewasratherintimidating,youknow.”Ishrug.“He’sveryfocused,intenseeven—andyoung.Reallyyoung.”
Kategazesinnocentlyatme.Ifrown.
“Don’tyoulooksoinnocent.Whydidn’tyougivemeabiography?Hemademefeellikesuchanidiotforskimpingonbasicresearch.”
Kateclampsahandtohermouth.“Jeez,Ana,I’msorry—Ididn’tthink.”
Ihuff.
“Mostlyhewascourteous,formal,slightlystuffy—likehe’soldbeforehistime.Hedoesn’ttalklikeamanoftwentysomething.Howoldishe,anyway?”
“Twenty-seven.Jeez,Ana,I’msorry.Ishouldhavebriefedyou,butIwasinsuchapanic.LetmehavetherecorderandI’llstarttranscribingtheinterview.”
“Youlookbetter.Didyoueatyoursoup?”Iask,keentochangethesubject.
“Yes,anditwasdeliciousasusual.I’mfeelingmuchbetter.
