"Lackey, Mercedes - Bedlam's Bard 01 - Knights of Ghosts and Shadows (with Ellen Guon) 1.4" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Down, girl. He's also as feckless as they come. He's no good to you or himself as he is.

"You want to live till morning?" she retorted, hands on hips. "Look, maybe I can scotch some of the worst rumors. Tongues are already clacking, and they're not being real flattering to you. Besides, you've never hesitated to talk to me before, right?" He gave her an open, vulnerable look that almost made her want to take him in her arms and give him the best kind of comfort for a broken heart.

Almost.

She continued, trying to keep her thoughts where they belongedЧout of the gutter. "And maybe I can help you figure this thing out, keep you from getting into any more screaming break-up fights behind Mainstage . . . during the five o'clock show, no less."

His eyes widened. "You mean . . . could they hear us out there on the haybales?"

"To the tenth row, m'friend."

"Shit. Somebody from Admin is probably going to toast my tail for breakfast." He uncorked the flask, and took a mouthful. His eyebrows rose, and he took a second.

Well, at least he appreciates my whiskey.

"Thanks," Eric said, pausing long enough to come up for air. "This helps a lot. I think Glenfiddich can cure almost anything, even broken hearts." He took another swallow, and Beth waited until he recorked the flask.

"Okay," she said, "You and Signorina Tosca seemed to be doing all right around noonЧwhat happened after that?"

He shuffled his feet in the dust, and looked sheepish.

Too damn cute for his own good, that's Eric Banyan. He attracts too many women who think that sweet face means he's malleable. They don't look past the face to the eyes, the eyes watching for somebody who might put fetters on him. They look at the generosity, and they think he's theirs for the taking. He'll give you anything, all right; anything but himself. That part of him that he won't let anyone see, or touch . . .

"She was getting hot, I guess, and sweaty, and she wanted to know how much longer I was going to be out here. I told her all weekend. Then she wanted to know where the motel was. I said there wasn't one, and I told her about my campsite."

Oh boy, the operatic soprano hothouse-plant meets reality.

"I can hear the storm brewing already," Beth remarked sagely, since he seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

"Yeah." He took another swig, and his eyes took on their habitual expression of wariness. "Then when I was checking the schedules backstage, she wanted to know how long this was gonna go on. I told her. Then I said I was thinking about hitting Northern Faire in the fall, maybe stay up in SanFran after, if the busking was good. I didn't get a chance to tell her I'd be back by Thanksgiving, 'cause that was when the excrement hit the rotating blades."

Beth shook her head, and recaptured her flask. "Eric, Eric, you lovable idiot . . ." She took a swig. "If I was planning on setting up a fight between the two of you, I couldn't have managed it better. You probably punched every button she has."

This one is obtuse even for you, sweetie. First you let her think you're planning on a long-term relationship, then start wandering off at odd intervals, then casually tell her you may be cruising on outЧwithout herЧthis fall. Banyon, you definitely take the prize.

"I don't see why," he said, obviously nettled. "She knew I was a street busker, that was how we met! Right at the downtown YMCA. I was playing the street; she was coming back from a rehearsal at the Pavilion. She knew exactly the kind of guy I am, from the minute she met me."

"Allow the Great Madame Zarathustra to read the past," Beth intoned in a cheap gypsy accent. "Tell me, in the past several weeks has she, or has she not, been making hints about how you should go do some serious auditions?"

"Well, yeah ..." The eyes were warier.

"Has she not, in fact, set up a couple of auditions? Like the one you were telling me about a few weeks back, with that chamber orchestra?"

"Well, yeah ..." He wouldn't look at her.

"Did you not, in fact, go to those auditions? And get job offers?" Taking the line of least resistance, you lazy sonuvabitch. Avoiding a confrontation, and inadvertantly leading her onЧ

"Well, yeahЧbut I didn't take any of those jobs!"