"duane,.dianne.-.spider.man.-.octopus.agenda" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

mistake," MJ said, riffling through the six or seven attached pages,
all covered with very small print. Cell Tech computer must have had a
fit or something, that's all. They can't make me pay this. I didn't
make any of these calls. There's not a single number I recognize."

Peter twitched a little, under the suds. "Some of these cell

phone companies," he said carefully, "can be a little sticky about
billing."

"Fhey can stick all they like," MJ said, laughing, "but I'm not paying
this. I didn't make any of these calls."

"Better call their helpline and tell them that the computer's barfed
all over your bill," he said. "If you like, I'll--"

"No, I can handle it myself, no problem," MJ said and headed out into
the kitchen. "By the way, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Oh, just some toast. I'll get some coffee later."

"Right."

Half an hour later, Peter was out of the tub, shaved, dried, and
getting dressed in their bedroom--and becoming more and more determined
to put off going into the kitchen for as long as he could.

MJ was still on the phone. He had heard one loud cry of "What?" and
another of, "But, you can't--that's--it's, it's not fair!" and another
of, "But I didn't! I've only had it--"

A long silence had followed that. Then came a quieter tone of voice
that Peter knew, and didn't hear often: the sound of MJ being very
controlled, and probably politer than she needed to be. It was a tone
of voice which suggested that the person on whom she was using it had
better never run into her at a social occasion or things would turn
quickly antisocial.

Finally, he heard her hang up, very softly. To Peter's educated ear,
the quiet little click sounded like a bomb detonator going off. Not
too quietly, and he hoped not too casually, he made his way into the
kitchen.

The toast had come up about ten minutes ago; it sat cold and forlorn in
the toaster. It wasn't so dark that redoing it would

ruin it, so Peter pushed it down again and walked through to the
little table between the kitchen and the dining area where MJ was
sitting, the cell phone off to one side, and staring at the bill.