PATTERSON, JAMESROUGHNA, HOWARD
YOU´VE BEEN WARNED
Vision, New York, 2008
ISBN 978-0-446-19897-4
beletria, román
388 s., angličtina
hmotnosť: 254 g
mäkká väzba
stav: dobrý
0,50 € DAROVANÉ EGJAK
*zlaci*
Struggling to make ends meet, photographer Kristin Burns works full time as the nanny for the wealthy Turnbull family. When her pictures are considered by an elite Manhattan art gallery, it seems she might finally get her career started. But Kristin has a major distraction: forbidden love. The man of her dreams is almost hers for keeps. Breathless with an inexhaustible passion and the excitement of being within reach of her goals, Kristin ignores all signs of catastrophe brewing. Fear exists for a reason. And Kristin can dismiss the warnings for just so long. Searching desperately for the truth through the lens of her camera, she can only hope that it's not too late.
Chapter 18
I KEEP STARING AT my stunning, unbelievably beautiful bracelet as Vincent drives me home.
Four diamonds...two sapphires...four diamonds ... two sapphires... all the way around my wrist. A perfect circle.
Well done, Michael!
It’s almost enough to make me forget why I came rushing down to see him in the first place. Not quite, but almost. I’m certainly glad I did, though. Already, my awful day seems like a long time ago. That’s a very good thing.
The limo eases to a stop at a red light, and Vincent asks me if the temperature is okay “back dere.”
I glance up at the nape of his thick neck, where a jagged scar protrudes from beneath his shirt collar. “It’s fine,” I answer. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you for asking, Vincent.”
He’s driven me home a handful of times, and we’ve yet to have what could be considered an actual conversation, though he’s always very nice to me. It’s funny how big guys like him are never much for small talk.
Then again, it could also be due to my feeling a bit awkward around him. I mean, he knows what’s going on. In a way, he’s a conspirator.
Michael says he trusts “the big guy” more than anyone, and by all indications, he has every reason to. Vincent has been his driver for over nine years. Not only does he predate me, he predates Penley.
Still, it makes me a little uncomfortable that he knows about us, that anybody does.
We ride the remaining blocks in silence, and my eyes take turns between the bracelet and the view out my window. The glistening lights, the people, the buildings—the city can be so hypnotic at night.
“Here we are, Ms. Burns.”
As he always does, Vincent steps out and opens the door for me in front of my building. I take his arm at the biceps and he guides me to the curb.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome.”
Closing the door behind me, Vincent is about to climb back into the limo. I feel as if I need to say something, though I’m not sure what. Anything, I suppose, to ease the awkwardness. It’s about time we said something beyond general niceties.
“Can I ask you a question, Vincent?”
He turns to me. “Yes, Ms. Burns?”
I sputter for a moment. Then some words come. “Do you like your job?”
“Yes, very much so,” he says. “Mr. Turnbull is a good boss.”
