"Roberts, Nora - Once More With Feeling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

bare wood floor.

Raven's star had not risen with that fir5t concert tour, it had
rocketed. The initial taste of fame had been so heady and so quick,
she had hardly had the time to savor it all: tours, rehearsals, hotel
rooms, !

money and impossible demands. She had loved it, i reporters, mobs of
fans, unbelievable amounts of although the traveling had sometimes left
her weak and disoriented and the fans could be as frightening as they
were wonderful. Still she had loved it.

Wayne, deluged with offers after the publicity of that first tour, had
soon moved out of the one-room office above the moussaka and souvlaki.
He'd been Raven's designer for six years, and although he now had a
large staff and a huge workload, he still saw to every detail of her
designs himself.

While she waited for him, Raven wandered to the bar and poured herself
a ginger ale. Through all the years of luncheon meetings, elegant
brunches and recording sessions, she had never taken more than an
occasional drink. In this respect, at least, she would control her
life.

The past, she mused, was never very far away, at least not while she
still had to worry about her mother. Raven shut her eyes and wished
that she could shut off her thoughts as easily. How long had it been
that she had lived with that constant anxiety? She could never
remember a life without it. She had been very young when she had first
discovered that her mother wasn't like other mothers . Even as a
little girl, she had hated the oddly sweet smell of the liquor on her
mother's breath that no mints could disguise, and she had dreaded the
flushed face, the first slurred, affectionate, then angry tones that
had drawn mocking stares or sympathetic glances from friends and
neighbors.

Raven pressed her fingers against her brow. So many years. So much
waste. And now her mother had disappeared again. Where was she? In
what sordid hotel room had she holed herself up in to drink away what
was left of her life? Raven made a determined effort to push her
mother out of her mind, but the terrible images, the frightful scenes,
played on in her mind.

It's my life! I have to get on with it, Raven told herself, but she
could feel the bitter taste of sorrow and guilt rise in her throat.

She started when the door across swung open and Wayne walked in.

He leaned against the knob. "Beautiful!" he said admiringly,
surveying her. "Did you wear that for me?"