“Boulder. I’m going back to school.”
“That’s wonderful. Studying law, or—”
“Literature.”
Mia sat back in the booth. Now she seemed shocked. “Literature. Wow.”
Oddly, he felt proud and embarrassed both when he should have felt neither. “I want to write. To teach.”
“I’d very much like to hear that story,” she said.
He tried to hold back a yawn and failed. “Maybe another time.” When he looked at her again it was with a sleepy smile. “I have the feeling you’re a very good concierge.”
“That I am,” she said.
He sat back in the booth as she took her tiny bites of blintzes, thinking that he should leave her to finish dinner alone. He needed to go home and get some sleep. Not that he hadn’t done this a hundred times over the last ten years. Stayed up for twenty-four, thirty-six or more hours. It was part of the gig. What made him wonder about his mental state wasn’t that he was sleepy. It was that all he wanted to do was sit in Maxwell’s diner across from Mia Traverse and watch her eat. Sip her iced tea.
Nope, it didn’t make a damn bit of sense. But there it was.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.