Possessed hearts - стр. 43

– Welcome to the past, my dear. I'd like to treat you to something special, but I'm afraid you won't appreciate it," my brother smirked.

He knew I had never tasted, nor had I any desire to taste the food of mortals.

– You know I prefer to drink wine," I winked at him. – But don't tell me you're a cook now.

– No, our cook is Maya.

– Polish?

– Yes, and she has golden hands.

– All by herself in this big room?

– Boris, her son, comes in at five. Also a cook. Yes, and two more waiters.

– You've got it all worked out. You're a born businessman! – I patted Martin on the shoulder.

My wet hair on my back made my T-shirt wet too. It was disgusting to sit there in wet clothes and sneakers. I ran my palm over the back of my head. – Shit. I felt like I'd crawled out of the bathtub.

– What were you doing outside in this weather? – Martin asked.

– Walking," I answered honestly. It was true. Although I preferred not to reveal the reason for the walk. – You advised me to walk around the city.

– And?

– You were right: it's cosy and beautiful. But I couldn't live here. It's too boring.

– Yes, you're a child of megacities.

– Maybe," I grinned. – Small towns suffocate me. But it's nice here. By the way, how did you meet Ales? He's such a nice man.

– I thought about having wine with him, but he started telling me about his son. He's doing his best for him. So I changed my mind. And the wine has gone a bit sour with age… When I become a father, I will also try for my children. – Martin smiled indulgently. – What's going on with you?

– What? – I was surprised by his question and the seriousness of his face. – I'm fine.

– You can't stand the humidity and you don't go out in the rain," Martin said flatly.

– I'm leaving tonight. – I said it just to get him off my back. But now I'd really have to buy a ticket. – So I don't have time to wait for the weather.

– Where to? My brother squinted his eyes.

– Toronto. Elle sent me a booking for a shoot. – Luckily, I didn't have to lie here.

– When?

– Tuesday.

– And you're flying out in a week? – he grinned.

– Do you suspect me of something? – I asked ironically.

– Yes. I know you, Maria. Probably better than you think.

– I'm not lying to you.

– Are you sure you're all right?

– Yes!" I said with a laugh.

– Are you sure?

– Yes!

– If you had a problem or felt unhappy, would you tell me?

– Yes!" I lied, looking into his eyes. I lied to him. To Martin. Right in his eyes. How low my maimed soul is! – Don't worry about me. – And to avoid further unpleasant conversation, I asked: – Are you driving today?

– Yeah.

– Take me to the hotel.

– Would you like to keep me company for a few more hours? – Martin asked in a sad tone.

– I'm sorry, darling, but I have a suitcase to pack. Besides, I'm not wearing any make-up.

– I noticed. That's why I know you're not well.

– You're doing it again! – I let out a chuckle and got up from my chair hurriedly. – Give me my rain jacket. I have to return it to reception.

Martin looked at me suspiciously, but gave me back my mackintosh. We walked out to the backyard, quickly hopped into his Snowman and rushed to the hotel. On the way, I asked him to tell me about why he suddenly decided to open his own restaurant. And he was so engrossed in his own story that I made it to the hotel without his harassing questions about my life.