Свольн. Путь в воины. Константин Назимов

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      Three

      “So what else did the love of my life say?” Molly asked as they made a pit stop for food on their way back to Julian’s place. He was always hungry. It seemed that his muscles needed a lot of glucose, all the time. The man had a friends group for every sport he participated in: soccer, basketball, kayaks, zip-lining, even the more extreme hang-gliding gigs.

      Those hard, taut muscles on his arms and legs and abs and the magnificent golden hue of his skin obviously didn’t come from being in an office all day.

      He was so lean, he could probably tackle a decathlon as easily as he tackled women in bed.... Hmm, she wondered if Garrett would soon tackle her in bed.

      “Wait here,” he said as he slid his silver Aston Martin into the only vacant parking slot in front of a frozen yogurt chain.

      “Hey will you get me an Oreo milk shake with—”

      “Three cherries on top—one for chewing, one for sucking and one to leave at the bottom?”

      Molly grinned and nodded, and she could still hear his rumbling chuckle even after he’d closed the door.

      Minutes later, he returned, and she found herself scowling down at her milk shake. “Why is there a phone number written on my milk shake cup?”

      With an easy flick of his wrist, he turned the key and his car engine roared back to life.

      “Julian!”

      He flung his hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t ask for it, Molls.”

      She shook her head in distaste. But then, could she blame the cashier or whoever had scrambled to write her hopes on Molly’s milk shake? Julian was graced with both a face and body that made women gape, stammer and stutter—then behave like twits. That was a fact. And there was nothing Molly—or even Julian—could do about it.

      Still, it rankled, and Molly kept shaking her head. “Honestly. I have no idea who in their right mind would hook up with you.”

      He shifted sideways and put the car in Reverse, then reached out and chucked her chin. “Apparently you.”

      Molly laughed and started chewing her first cherry. “You haven’t told me what the love of my life has to say about me—his one true love—hanging out with the likes of you.”

      Julian turned the wheel, shifted gears and sped onto the highway. “He mentioned guns. At dawn.”

      Molly sucked on her second cherry. “Just please don’t make me a widow before I even marry him.”

      “Marry. Whoa. Now there’s a big word.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with the word marriage.”

      “I said it was a big word.”

      She stopped sucking on her cherry and stared at him in suspicion, pushing the cherry to one side of her mouth as she talked. “And please don’t tell me when you said guns you were talking about your biceps again?”

      He just smiled that sexy smile. As if he knew a secret Molly didn’t. Or as if he’d seen her naked without her knowledge. Oops, where did that thought come from?

      Her stomach jittered all of a sudden, and she figured she might be cold. It had started raining when they loaded up her suitcases, and now her clothes were soaked and clinging to her skin. Which was unfortunate, because she’d changed into something Julian might even consider sexy and sophisticated. Not because she cared what he thought, but just to prove to him that Molly Devaney had money of her own, had success on her own and only dressed comfortably because she believed inner beauty was more important than material stuff.

      Now as she contemplated her soggy outfit, she didn’t know if her goose bumps were due to her wet tank or the cold milk shake or excitement.

      Julian became pensive as he drove, but that was fine with her. Molly chattered on in her excitement about how she was going to get Garrett, how she could use one of Julian’s spare bedrooms if she felt suddenly inspired and had to paint... She did have an exhibition soon and needed to finish two more pieces within the next month.

      When they arrived at his apartment building, he asked her if he could show her something and Molly nodded eagerly. Eduardo, one of the doormen, took charge of delivering her bags to the twelfth floor while Julian guided her to another elevator and pressed P. They were carried up to the penthouse.

      What greeted them when the elevator doors opened was an enormous white space, with floor-to-ceiling windows in every corner and the smell of fresh paint lingering in the air.

      “Wow. What is this?”

      He met her gaze, and she was mesmerized by the proud gleam in his eyes, could even hear the pride in his gruff voice. “These just so happen to be my future offices.”

      Molly’s eyes rounded in surprise. “You—what do you mean? Is the Daily moving from downtown?”

      The Gage family owned the most thriving and successful newspaper conglomerate in all of Texas, which included several print publications, internet news sites and some cable-TV channels, all working under the umbrella of their first paper, the San Antonio Daily. It was a business of three generations and one that gave the family immense wealth and untold power. Their offices occupied an entire block downtown, so Molly couldn’t quite believe the move would be so easy.

      A second passed before Julian answered, and it was as though he was selecting his words carefully. “No. I’m the only one moving out, Molls.”

      Molly stared at his somber expression, loud warning bells chiming in her head. She immediately sensed this development was not a positive thing for the family. “Do your brothers know about this, Jules?” she asked, treading cautiously.

      “They will.”

      Molly took a couple of minutes to digest this shocking news. Her stomach did weird things at the thought of drama within the family, which had always seemed to revolve around Julian and his rebel ways. She still remembered each one of the times he’d been sent abroad for who knew what kinds of wrongdoing. Molly had missed her friend terribly, like she’d miss a thumb or an arm or a crucial and important part of her. All she remembered about those wretched months was that she’d cried. A lot.

      Now she watched him move lithely across his new office area, easily stepping over plastic tarps while he surveyed the electrical wires that stuck out from the scattered pillars, and she wondered why he’d want to bail out on the family’s extremely successful newspaper and publishing business.

      As the head of PR and chief of advertising for the company, Julian had the best part of the pie, in her humble opinion. He had the same whopping salary, just as many shares in the company as his brothers but the fewest responsibilities, which allowed him to have the most fun, the most women and the most time for hobbies like flying that Cessna plane he so loved and doing all the sports he enjoyed. Why would he leave the San Antonio Daily?

      “I had no idea you were unhappy where you were,” she said as she caught up with him, searching his face.

      He СКАЧАТЬ