Heading For A New Life Page 14

  An image of her emerged in front of my eyes: disheveled hair, eyes slightly raised to the temples, and a look, bewildered, icy in the eyes. He seemed to see her parted lips with his own eyes - reach out and touch, and the heat of her body still burned the tips

  his fingers. Leaning back on the couch, Chris groaned dully, closing his eyes. No, he's probably an idiot after all. I thought of myself for no reason, I set up walls that no one but him needs ...

  But somewhere, on the distant edge of consciousness, a thought was thrashing that seemed important. The one that could serve as an excuse.

  He didn't want that anymore.

  He was afraid to get burned again, to let in what he turns into a weak-willed creature, indulging other people's desires. He was afraid that he would be wrong again, albeit not so fatally, but still. Chris with great difficulty could only admit to himself - he no longer wants to be so wrong, but is one step away from the abyss.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose with force, closed his eyes tight, until redness under his eyelids, and quickly got up, getting rid of his clothes on the go. In a shower, urgently, in a cold one, to wash away even a tiny memory of other people's touches, of what so excites the mind.

  Chris woke up with a heavy head, as if he had drunk not a few bottles of beer yesterday, but a liter of tequila. Having barely opened his eyes, he was glad that today was a day off, which means, firstly, there was no need to go anywhere, and secondly, there was no need to look Laura in the eyes. Because he certainly could not look at her today. The decision that came to mind yesterday seemed to be the only correct one. Quit your job, and as soon as possible. A relationship with Laura while he worked for her is impossible. And after - he is clearly not the person who could be next to her. And certainly not the one she wants. It was now Laura looked at him with her unreal eyes and waited for something that he could not give her. But, one has only to fall pink glasses, and she will quickly remember that Chris killed his wife. Let through negligence, but killed by hitting. Now, having learned the story of her marriage, Chris could not even imagine what she could find in him. Wasn't she afraid that history might repeat itself? Chris chuckled bitterly - someone else's fear would haunt him all his life, and it would be better if Laura stayed away from him.

  But even if this is not enough, Senator Smith will be the first to point it out: why, my daughter is dating a criminal with whom she had an affair even before she divorced ...

  Chris knew all too well how the press could make a sensation. And here I wouldn't have to invent anything. Everything would emerge: his criminal record, and Laura's divorce, and even the scandal that she made in court. Apart from how it would affect her father, it would hit Laura herself in the first place. And he ... will survive. Before everything has gone too far, we have to cut it alive, because it will be too late.

  He did not indulge himself with the illusion that he had no feelings for Laura. What was now stirring in my chest could hardly be called light sympathy. But even with the feeling that Chris had for Jennifer, it also could not be compared. He just wanted to be there. Although no, not easy. He wanted to know that she was doing well, to see how she was smiling, to hold her hand, to touch her skin ... with his hands, lips, tongue ... Thoughts rushed at a gallop, giving pictures so hot that Chris involuntarily groaned, turning abruptly on his stomach and biting his teeth into the pillow.

  Probably, it is this feeling that is usually called "obsession", but this is how he could characterize the thoughts that had been haunted in the morning. The cold air did not sober up at all: Chris stood on the balcony, looking at the lake, trying to breathe, gaining as much as possible into his lungs

  cool, but could not get rid of the smell of bitter orange, which impudently settled inside. Fog descended on Seattle again, despite the fact that it was almost ten o'clock, and the phone ringing in the muted haze sounded like an alarm bell.

  — Did I wake up? Sorry. There was no regret in Denise's voice. - How did you sleep?

  — Bad, ”Chris said hoarsely.

  — OU. There was silence in the phone. - Why? Have the doves quarreled?

  — We're not doves, Denise, ”Chris's voice was clearly annoyed. “And we didn't spend the night together. I just didn't sleep well.

  — Wait. In the sense - did not spend the night together?

  — Why does it surprise you? Chris allowed a little smugness. - I told you yesterday - between us there is nothing and will not be.

  — That is, you want to say that you just spent it and that's it?

  — You could say that. - Someone, and Denise Chris could not lie.

  - And-and? ..

  — We kissed.

  — Your mother! - snorted in the receiver. - Sounds like I'm talking to a fourteen year old! Chris, don't be tired! What happened next?

  — Then I left, - he sighed, shrinking in advance under a hail of accusations, which did not hesitate to pour down.

  — In the sense: gone? Just pick up and leave? Why? Where? What for?

  Chris sighed heavily, briefly explaining what had happened between them, and again fell silent, realizing that any reproaches Denise would sound in unison with what he had said to himself yesterday.

  — You are an idiot, - the friend said with feeling, when she finished a long obscene tirade. - You are a complete idiot who did not want to seize the moment!

  — What a moment! - Chris flared up, running his hand through his hair. - She didn't want me! She needed any more or less attractive man to comfort her and keep company for the night!

  — And he will fuck it as it should, - added Denise thoughtfully, but suddenly she was suspiciously silent and carefully clarified: - Why didn't this role suit you?

  — I work for her! Chris snapped irritably.

  — So what? Denise asked just as softly. - You were jarred by the fact that Laura can be no matter who she sleeps with, or observance of the chain of command?

  Chris was silent, but Denise had already found the reason herself and exhaled in shock:

  — My boy fell in love!

  Chris stubbornly remained silent, listening to enthusiastic exclamations, until she finally fell silent and said:

  — You don’t think Laura looks like Jennifer, give her the devil under the boiler of wood?

  — I don't know. ”The voice sat down, sharply refusing to obey. Chris took a deep breath and added, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to even try to find out.

  — I understand, ”Denise said after a short silence. “But Chris, not all women are like that, you know. You're out of luck, it's true, but you're not going to row one size fits all all your life?

  — I'm not going to, ”Chris replied grimly, closing his eyes. He added bitterly: - What do you say about my past? Do you think, Senator, in the future, perhaps President Smith will approve of our relationship?

  — Well, you, of course, bent! Denise snorted. - Maybe you won't succeed in anything serious, but you're already talking about the wedding ... Wait. Don't tell me that you've lost your head so much that you want to marry her?

  — No, Chris grinned. - I'm just looking through all the options. And if it goes this far, then what?

  — You don’t want to start this relationship because you’re afraid to lose, ”Denise summed up. - I understand, but, Chris, honey, you won't know without trying.

  — I've already tried it, remember? And after that I lost everything that could be lost except life. I remember that feeling all too well.

  — I wish I could say that you are dramatizing, ”Denise sighed,“ but I understand you. And, as always, on your side. But still, think a few times before running.

  — Consider this a tactical retreat, ”Chris chuckled grimly.

  After the conversation with Denise, my soul felt better, but not for long. All thoughts in one way or another returned to Laura, making him doubt that he could really just forget about her so easily. And when an alert about a message from her flashed on the phone, my heart beat so hard that there was no doub
t: he was already screwed up to his ears.

  Laura came out of sleep slowly, reluctantly. The eyes desperately did not want to open, and a flock of cats seemed to shit in their mouths, having previously pulled out all the moisture from it. Taking a deep breath, Laura ran her tongue over her dry lips and opened her eyes. Almost no light penetrated through the tightly drawn curtains, but it felt like nine in the morning. It's so good that today is a day off! Stretching lazily, she thought that yesterday she allowed herself to relax too much, which, in general, did not sound like her. Especially considering that the rest took place in a new company. I really wanted to hope that she was behaving well, and Chris would not have to blush for inviting.

  Chris. Her heart sank, and her stomach felt empty, as if she were flying down a roller coaster. Memory, as if mocking, readily began to throw pictures of how the evening ended, and after a second Laura's cheeks were flaming with shame. You idiot! How did she have the brains to act like that? Hanging on him, offering himself - what does he think of her now? If Chris had a hard-hitting opinion of her after the first meeting, then yesterday evening he was definitely interrupted.

  With a dull groan, Laura rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Why-why-why couldn't she control herself? It’s good that he didn’t take advantage of this, today it would be simply unbearable to look him in the eye! Pressing her palms to her flaming cheeks, Laura wondered: why didn't he use it? Is she that disgusting to him? The thought was unexpectedly unpleasant. She liked Chris. Yesterday this discovery literally struck on the spot and, apparently, deprived of the remnants of reason. Laura chuckled nervously - which screenwriter can this story be attributed to? It will turn out to be an excellent melodrama, however, in her life, a good end is clearly not expected.

  In Chris's place, she would have done the same: she would not have to mess with herself. Troubled husband, constant work, close supervision of the father and many internal phobias and

  complexes - which normal man wants to be around? She can never become an exemplary stay-at-home wife, raise children and cook a delicious dinner. Whether Chris needs this is unknown, but marriage has shown that even the strongest feelings are replaced by jealousy, emptiness and loneliness. Laura didn't want to go through this again. Move their relationship to the horizontal plane, it would definitely not be limited at one time

  — Laura was sure of that. It was good for them together, but on one attraction it is not possible to build a relationship. Otherwise, they are too different.

  His face reappeared before the inner gaze: sharp cheekbones, eyes in which sparks of laughter were dancing, a smile ... When he smiled, it seemed that he knew some funny story that was certainly connected with you. Laura involuntarily remembered how easily and easily Chris communicated with friends, how open he can be, how charming ... Maybe in a parallel universe they could have something. Maybe they could at least try. Somewhere out there, in a parallel universe ...

  Sighing heavily, Laura slowly sat up and looked around the room, looking at the randomly scattered clothes, which, apparently, she took off on the go. Sinking to the floor, she crawled on all fours to her purse and took out her phone, then sat down, leaning on the bed, and swiped it across the screen. What to write? “I don’t always pounce on men when I touch it”, “Sorry I wanted to drag you to bed. I won't do that anymore ”,“ Next time I'll try to drink less. Ha-ha "," I'm so ashamed that I want to hang myself on my own tights. I hope this death will not be pinned on you. " With a merry snort, Laura became serious again: laughter is laughter, and keeping silence is stupid. He still worked for her. At least until a new hearing and final divorce. Maybe ask Marcus to find someone else? Laura frowned - to run from problems sticking her head in the sand was still not her style. Another heavy sigh, and letters began to appear on the screen, folding into words.

  Sorry about yesterday. Thank you for understanding. Monday, as usual, at seven? The "read" icon appeared literally a second later, and my heart involuntarily skipped a beat -

  she hadn't expected Chris to read so quickly. Moreover, she will decide to answer! .. Laura closed her eyes, everything inside shrank with fear, and after clicking on the notification she did not dare to open her eyes for another two seconds.

  Everything is fine. Till Monday.

  Exhaling, Laura slid to the floor, still clutching the phone in her hand. Of course, two phrases are not enough to assess Chris's real reaction, but his soul has clearly become calmer. Ahead was the weekend, which she had accumulated through unused time off and was waiting for the trial to use. Two days of doing nothing, silence, peace and thoughts that were already starting to drive me crazy. Laura was torn apart by completely contradictory emotions: then apathy rolled over at the thought of the House, about his act and how she could be so wrong about it. Then everything inside began to tremble at the thought of Chris.

  The bodyguard who replaced him on the weekend was sitting downstairs in the car. A sullen man in his forties, Peters didn't seem to move at all all day. Usually he guarded the pope, and Marcus came to her, but now, before the campaign, he did not leave the senator a step. Sighing longingly, Laura looked down, imagining that instead of a gray Ford there was a coal-black Hummer. What if Chris were there now? Could she invite him to her place? Just like that, in a friendly way, drink coffee. A shiver ran through my body

  involuntary and even more exciting - as soon as you thought about him, he stood before his eyes yesterday, here, at the door. When he stood so close, scorching the heat of his body, when he answered her kiss, squeezing so hard that it seemed like his ribs would crack. Whatever it was, but yesterday Chris also did not mind succumbing to the madness that gripped her. But still he stopped. Why?

  Towards evening, Laura found herself planning to dial it for the tenth time. Just hear a voice, ask how you are doing. And every time, thinking about how stupid it would sound, she annoyedly tossed the receiver aside, grabbing the remote and starting feverishly switching channels. Sunday morning began with a bell, and while Laura was looking for the phone, her hands were already shaking, and her insides made two flips. It turned out to be a lawyer, and his jubilant voice barely entered his consciousness:

  — You were right, Eleanor! Dominic is ready to close the deal and sign the papers!

  — What conditions? - Laura asked cautiously, suspecting that everything would not end so easily.

  — He asks for your house and three hundred thousand dollarscompensation.

  — Yah? - She suddenly felt insanely funny. So, how much did he value their marriage? - House and fifty thousand. This is my last suggestion. He won't get more from me. If he doesn’t want to, I’ll wait a month, they will divorce us anyway.

  — Are you sure?

  — Absolutely.

  After the call, the mood slowly but surely began to creep up, and by the time the lawyer called to say that the decision had been made, Laura was already pacing around the house, singing along to the singer, whose voice sounded in the video on TV. Having almost got what he wanted, Dominic was in a hurry to settle everything as soon as possible. Was he so overpowered by creditors that he decided on this cheap performance in the hope of shaking at least something out of it? Laura almost felt sorry for him. Nearly. She wanted to sell the house anyway, she didn't even want to cross its threshold anymore.

  By evening, Laura had become a free, unmarried woman. True, so far only nominally - they signed an amicable agreement, which will be submitted to the judge in the near future. And there it already depends on the lawyer - whether the judge will meet halfway and accept the divorce, or will hesitate and make you wait for the prescribed month. Laura didn't care anymore

  — she felt free, and that was the main thing. Tomorrow she would tell Chris about it and then ... What would happen then - it seemed weak, but I wanted to believe that a white streak in her life was about to begin!

  Alexander Smith rarely allowed himself too much. More precisely, almost never allowed it - when you are constantly in sight of hundreds o
f people, there is no time to relax. But today he was morosely finishing his third glass of whiskey, hoping that the intoxication would come as soon as possible and take at least some of the problems with him. The election campaign was gaining momentum, in three days he was waiting for a big tour of the state, which was supposed to end in Seattle, and then - a day of silence and elections. He must win them. Alexander Smith had every chance to qualify for the seat in the White House, and the last step up his steps

  — third term.

  The support was comprehensive: not only the trade unions, but also the big entrepreneurs of the state of Washington wanted to see him represent their interests. And if Alexander had long agreed with the heads of the first, having paid a lot out of his own pocket, the leaders of some corporations expected too much from his new term. Among them were the largest aircraft manufacturers for whom the closure of their state-owned jet fuel plants has long been a pain in the ass. It was much easier to keep production under control than to dump big money into someone else's wallet.

  Bancroft, Salivan, Pitsy - they all pressed on Smith on the one hand, insinuatingly but insistently recommending lobbying their interests and bringing fuel production back closer to the production of aircraft. On the other hand, ecologists were twitching, who also promised support. Jet fuel production has been banned in the state since the 1980s, and advocating for new plant start-ups would incur a lot of the ire of an electorate that has become overly ecologically concerned in recent years. But the heads of corporations, seeing that he hesitated, increased the pressure, over and over again becoming tougher and more demanding. For the past two months, they have not disdained threats, deftly exchanging carrots for carrots when they felt they were going too far. Alexander got scared. Having promised everyone around that he would meet halfway, he realized with horror that this time it would not be possible to please everyone at the same time. The ring was compressed