Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 21
Kate’splumdresshangslaunderedandironedintheclosetalongwithmycleanbraandpanties.Mrs.Jonesisamarvel.SlippingonKate’sshoes,Istraightenmydress,takeadeepbreath,andheadbackouttothegreatroom.
Christianisstillnowheretobeseen,andMrs.Jonesischeckingthecontentsofthepantry.
“Teanow,MissSteele?”sheasks.
“Please.”Ismileather.IfeelslightlymoreconfidentnowthatI’mdressed.
“Wouldyoulikesomethingtoeat?”
“No,thankyou.”
“Ofcourseyou’llhavesomethingtoeat,”Christiansnaps,glowering.“Shelikespancakes,bacon,andeggs,Mrs.Jones.”
“Yes,Mr.Grey.Whatwouldyoulike,sir?”
“Omelet,please,andsomefruit.”Hedoesn’ttakehiseyesoffme,hisexpressionunfathomable.“Sit,”heorders,pointingtooneofthebarstools.
Ioblige,andhesitsbesidemewhileMrs.Jonesbusiesherselfwithbreakfast.Gosh,it’sunnervinghavingsomeoneelselistentoourconversation.
“Haveyouboughtyourairticket?”
“No,I’llbuyitwhenIgethome—overtheInternet.”
Heleansonhiselbow,rubbinghischin.
“Doyouhavethemoney?”
Ohno.
“Yes,”IsaywithmockpatienceasifI’mtalkingtoasmallchild.
Heraisesacensoriouseyebrowatme.Crap.
“Yes,Ido,thankyou,”Iamendrapidly.
“Ihaveajet.It’snotscheduledtobeusedforthreedays;it’satyourdisposal.”
Igapeathim.Ofcoursehehasajet,andIhavetoresistmybody’snaturalinclinationtorollmyeyesathim.Iwanttolaugh.ButIdon’t,asIcan’treadhismood.
