but

"Um ... as you say, it's a long story, but ..." I step a few more steps toward the grocery store, and watch carefully from the corner toward the dining area. Seeing that his family was still in his place. The line is silent at least a few more. I returned with a sense of security, one hand in the "keep going" style. Leo continued, "You have a potential portrait for me ... if you are interested ... Do you have a portrait?" "Yes, yes," I say, curiosity within me. Very light. "Who is that object?" I asked that question, but was completely willing to disappoint him. Say I have a lot of work scheduled for the coming weeks. That now I have a schedule agent and not really gobbling up the miscellaneous job. That I have achieved - may not be very great - but also great enough. Thank you for thinking of me, but no thanks. Oh, one more thing, Leo? Right. Perhaps better not to call me again. Not only heavy emotions, okay? Goodbye.I will shoot out all that. I can taste the taste satisfied. Then just then Leo cleared his throat and threw out a trump card. "Drake Watters?" I said in disbelief, hoping he was talking about a Drake Watters other than the ten-time Grammy-winning legend. But, of course, there is only one Drake. Of course, Leo said, "Yes," while I was traveling in high school years, thinking of how I would look. Drake's concert t-shirt arrived at school at least once a week, paired with purse-washed silver jeans and deliberately torn jeans, and Tretom shoes with colorful peace signs. come. And even though I'm no longer a fan of him from then on, he was naturally on the special list of "The Idols I craved to be photographed," alongside Madonna, Bill Clinton, Meryl Streep, Bruce Springsteen. , Queen Elizabeth, Sting, and George Cloony, although this character is not really in the same school as the others and is placed in the same place for all reason. "What do you think?" Leo said. with a hint of openness. "Do you like it?" I kicked off a floorboard, thinking I hated Leo luring me like this. I hate myself with it. I even almost hated Drake. "Yes," I say, feeling disappointed, losing. "Great," Leo said. "So we will talk about this later?" "Yes," I said again. "Monday morning is convenient for you?" "Sure enough," I said. "Monday I'll call you." Then I shut the machine and turned to the table, nurturing a new secret just pretending to enjoy drunk with nutmeg flan topped with spices and fruits. Glossary in golf, just blows the ball from the tee, hits the ground and rolls straight into the hole with a single shot from the player. Prev Chapter Next Sstruyen.com.vn is a website for reading stories online, or with a full range of stories, stories, stories, stories, stories, teen stories .... The story is updated one. The fastest way and support for reading on any device like cellphone or tablet. Email: hello@sstruyen.com.vsay, suakhoaoto.com.vn, novels, teenagers, gifts, event companies, delicious, cheap car keys, lock safes , make piaggio car keys

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Home »Chapters» Love On The Side Of The Ta-Chapter 11
LOVE PEOPLE
Love You By Me - Chapter 11

View: 1812 | European Novel, Love Story Novel
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Love On My Side

Author: Emily Giffin

Chapter 11
Monday morning rushed as always in situations when we are not really sure how to respond. Since Saturday night, I have been constantly busy with my Leo- Drake plan - around the end is never to call Leo, which is finished with Andy and let him decide on the photo shoot, Go to meet face to face Leo to hear all the interesting details about my biggest mission ever.
But at this moment, when stopped in front of the house after kissing Andy goodbye before he went to work, in his mind was the voice of Drake's hypnosis with the song "Crossroads", the song about the disastrous consequences of a night out of common aquatic, I know what I have to do. I turned and ran through the living room, rushed to the window on my soft purple socks to catch the image of the husband leaving the building and strode on the sidewalk in the blue cloak. Long sea to beautiful pillow with red scarf cashmere scarf. When he hid towards the Park Avenue, I could see his shadow flickered and noticed he was happily flicking his briefcase on the side. It was that glimpses that reinforced my final decision.
BigI slowly returned to the kitchen and looked up at the clock on the oven. Nine hours forty two minutes - late enough to call anyone. But anyway I still delay, decided to first have to drink a cup of coffee. Our coffee machine was broken a couple of weeks ago and we did not have a kettle, so I took a glass of water from the tap to boil in the microwave and rummaged through the drawer for a box of instant coffee, The right kind of thing I've ever seen your mother doing every morning. I looked back at the familiar gentleman on the Taster's Choice label, wondering how often I saw him look very old. Now he still seems young - at least forty. Again, a magic trick of time. I opened the box lid and stirred in two teaspoons of water, watching the brown crystals dissolve. I took a sip and suddenly burst into my mother's image. Really small things, like soluble coffee, always reminds me more than mother. I was thinking of calling Suzanne - sometimes she could do with pain like this because she was the only person in the world who understood how I felt. Although the relationship with her mother is very different - she is often unstable with her mother because she inherits the stubborn gene from her mother - we are still two sisters who lost their mother at a young age and that is the eternal bond, strong. However, I decided not to call you, because sometimes it would also have mixed effects, and maybe eventually I would even feel worse. Right now, I can not bear to get depressed again. Instead, I distract myself with the style of the Times magazine, slowly reading about new leggings pants, which was Margot attended. Newspaper from last year, while sipping a bland cup of coffee, wondered why she could stand this stuff for years. Then I set up the bed, unloaded the rest of the cloth bag, rearranged my sock drawer, and Andy's, brushed my teeth, bathed, and wore. I still do not feel ready, I rearranged the novels on the bookshelf in the alphabet of the author's last name, a plan I had intended to do for a few years. I ran my fingers through the neat booklets, feeling a stream of contentment, amused by this perfect order despite the turmoil in my head. At eleven o'clock twenty-five minutes, I also overcome the suspense to call. Both feelings of liberation and despair came to me, Leo did not answer, my call straight into voice mail. In the excitement, I made a great speech I had picked up over the past thirty-six hours, while at church as well as having a light meal with the Graham family, and then when We drove around Buckhead to see more houses for sale, and then on our flight back home peacefully. The main idea in my speech was (a) I was very impressed with him. Is there a connection with Drake Watters (why not throwing a useless bone?), and (b) greatly appreciating what he thinks of my work and (c) (d) does not feel "completely comfortable with the intention of resuming friendship and thinks that we should not do it at all." At the last moment, I I disagree (e) "This is disrespectful to my husband," because I do not want Leo to think he's in the category. "You're so cool, you can control my husband," said Brad Turner, "You're harmless, so comfortable to laugh at you in my backyard, Ty Portera." I hung up, feeling relieved, and for the first time since seeing Leo a few weeks ago , my heart is almost serene. The call may not be the end in the classical sense of the word,

but it is still the end in a certain way, and more importantly, it is the ending in my terminology. I called a last. That would be even more meaningful considering that I had a perfect excuse - Drake Watters, for God - for meeting Leo, having fun with him, and even falling in love. Anyway, what's really happened between us? "But I threw the opportunity away. Actually slam the door blocking it. Not because I can not control Leo's friendship, but because I simply do not want to. I ended up imagining Leo listening to the message, wondering if he would be lazy, a little depressed, or just indifferent. However, whatever it is, I know he will be surprised that his strength, once so violent, has now dried up completely. He will definitely bring that hint - and his photography - away. And I will just have to accept the fact that I once had the opportunity to photograph Drake Watters. I smiled to myself, felt joyful and happy and virtuous, and sang the single sentence upholding the spirit of "Crossroads" with his terrible phrasing voice: When dawn came, Oh, I'll have to go forever