Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 16
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TheworldofKatherineKavanaghisveryclear,veryblackandwhite.Nottheintangible,mysterious,vaguehuesofgraythatcolormyworld.Welcometomyworld.
“Sit,let’stalk.Let’shavesomewine.Oh,you’vehadchampagne.”Shespiesthebottle.“Somegoodstuff,too.”
Ismileineffectually,lookingapprehensivelyatthecouch.Iapproachitwithcaution.Hmm…sitting.
“Areyouokay?”
“Ifelloverandlandedonmybehind.”
Shedoesn’tthinktoquestionmyexplanation,becauseIamoneofthemostuncoordinatedpeopleinWashingtonState.IneverthoughtI’dseethatasablessing.Isitdowngingerly,pleasantlysurprisedthatI’mokay,andturnmyattentiontoKatebutmymindglazesoverandI’mpulledbacktotheHeathman—Well,ifyouweremineyouwouldn’tbeabletositdownforaweekafterthestuntyoupulledyesterday.Hesaiditthen,andallIcouldconcentrateonatthetimewasbeinghis.Allthewarningsignswerethere,Iwasjusttoocluelessandtooenamoredtonotice.
Katecomesbackintothelivingareawithabottleofredwineandwashedteacups.
“Herewego.”Shehandsmeacupofwine.Itwon’ttasteasgoodastheBolly.
“Ana,ifhe’sajerkwithcommitmentissues,dumphim.ThoughIdon’treallyunderstandhiscommitmentissues.Hecouldn’ttakehiseyesoffyouinthemarquee,watchedyoulikeahawk.I’dsayhewascompletelysmitten,butmaybehehasafunnywayofshowingit.”
Smitten?Christian?Funnywayofshowingit?I’llsay.
“Kate,it’scomplicated.Howwasyourevening?”Iask.
