Читать книгу Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life - Danny Osipenko - Страница 11

At one time, everyone really thought I was a rich bitch. I spent a lot of money on clothes and parties, went out with bad guys, and went to villas in other countries. I liked that kind of life and didn’t care about anyone else. Everyone at school was scared of me and immediately admired me. I even claimed the prom queen crown, but never made it to the prom. No matter what you say, I certainly didn’t pull off the title of Cinderella.

In the ’90s, my father’s company was one of America’s top medical equipment companies, so everyone in town knew our family by sight. My ancestors were honored and loved, while I earned the status of an obnoxious girl by getting into fights at school.

But no matter how bad I seemed, I still managed to be the first in my progress among the school’s honors students. I was taken to various Olympiads and competitions, where I took, if not first, then at least second place. And after that I would come home with loud cries for my dad to see me and tell me that I was good. But my father for all this, there was not enough time. And if I did show him my awards, he still said it wasn’t enough. I was not beautiful, educated and smart enough for him from birth. My father kept repeating that he needed a child, his only heir. But my mother was never able to give him one. That’s why I was picked on so much. Naturally, my father adored me, but not with the love I would have wished for. From time to time, when he was making important deals for his company, I managed to get a piece of his love for me. Whether it was a firm hug or words of praise for me. Still, it wasn’t enough for me.

Maybe it had something to do with my relationships with guys. But every time, I dumped them after 3 sacred words. I wasn’t hurt, and I didn’t feel bad after the breakup. I basically went on with my life like nothing ever happened. My exes were very angry and many of them even threatened to execute me so that I would go back to them. But I didn’t go back, I started dating another guy from our school. I always did that until I met Mike Norland, my one and only love. I gave my whole self without reserve to that relationship. I thought I’d lost him forever, and it turned out he was the one who left me for fucking money. And I’ll tell you this: «Being abandoned is even worse for me than losing my lover forever.

I don’t know why, but I believed what Mr. Moreau said. Even though I was still having a hard time accepting all the information about Mike, I still dared to find out the truth, whatever it was. I was still in pain. I’m very weak emotionally. My heart is not giving me peace and it’s already very lingering. It’s time to live a normal life after all, but only after I’ve figured it all out.

Yesterday I had the courage to call Mr. Moreau to tell him that I would help him. I had to lie to Miranda and my dad about sending me on a business trip.

– Just think, web designers also have business trips! – And what are you going to do there, in Algeria? Create a virtual panel?

– No, I’m peeing for a seminar.

– Seminar? Can I go with you?

I panicked at the time, and maybe that would have given me away, but I pulled myself together and paid her off with an oath to bring her whatever she wanted. Miranda, of course, took my words very seriously and wrote me a big list of things I just had to bring her from there. At this point this list was in a notebook, folded in two, in my bag on my lap. I was told that the main cover would be a small event, for programmers and information technology professionals. So that neither my father nor even Mike could figure out what the hell I was doing in Algeria.

Upon arrival, a bus picked me and a couple of other people up, and the impromptu forum participants were taken to a four-star hotel in the heart of the capital. I was put up in a single room, more like a spacious living room, in one of my father’s houses. That’s a lot of room for me alone and lonely.

It was mind-boggling, but I didn’t feel like sobbing, and I didn’t feel the usual pain in my chest the whole time. I sat up, thought about Mike, and, feeling nothing but the urge to eat something, got up and took a shower.

The lovely and smiling Frances Gilmore, who was both our tour guide and local entertainment host for the duration of our stay, came to pick me up at 1 p.m. local time. Our entire group was gathered in the hotel restaurant to be fed various delicacies. I was the only one of the group who was quiet and relaxed. Even the process of eating an apple dragged on for a full minute.20

During the meal, I was able to get to know all the members of the forum. So sitting next to me at lunch was Catherine Blanc, an employee of a big computer company called Molose Corporations. She and her roommate, Bill Davis, were working together on IT technology, which they were arguing about with Martin Hall, the young kid sitting across from me. Sitting next to Martin was Scotty Young, a prominent programmer and online gaming enthusiast. He had Wright Walker and Lizzie Brooks in his chat room, who also happened to be specific players. Gary and Diane Hughes, a domestic couple, were also present, and they sat together, occasionally asking each other things while they stuffed their bellies. And finally Eric Russell, a handsome blond man with a regular American grin and two30 teeth. Eric reeked of his stifling toilet water from a meter away, and I had to turn away from him to Catherine as he sat, to my left.

– Francis, do you know where I can buy a month’s worth of decorations? These. – Asked Miss Gilmore, Diana pointed to her own phone.

– Honey, why ask the tour guide about it?

– Since she must know all the local markets. Jamie asked me to bring her crescent-shaped earrings. So if you have any ideas on how to find them more quickly, I’m all ears. – Gary was expressively silent in response. – Which was a good point.

– You might find them at the local flea market, Mrs. Hughes. We’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.

I thought about our whole itinerary and began to think about how to find Mike in a town like this. In that case, Mr. Moreau gave me the number of a certain Señor Francisco Salido del Pozo. He worked as a private detective and knew where my beloved was at the moment.

– Violet! Isn’t that your name?

We were sitting on a bus going to another hotel where a seminar was to be held when Mr. Russell sat down with me.

– That’s exactly right.

– And I’m Eric.

We shook hands, and I turned away from him immediately. I’d have to tell the man not to choke so much.

– It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?

– Uh-huh.

– I have been here so many times, but its beauty still fascinates me.

I pretended to be drowsy from the traffic on the bus, and apparently Mr. Russell saw that, so he finished talking to me. The whole time we were driving, the smell of his toilet water kept me from enjoying the ride.

The impressive size of the lobby of the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel was a sight to behold. It was like entering the palace of a sheikh himself. It was picturesque, bright and tasteful, all done in the best traditions of a prestigious hotel. As I walked across the shiny marble floor, my sandals slid gently but made no sound. People were arriving, checking in, and just strolling through the spacious hotel lobby. Life was buzzing everywhere, discussions in various languages, and it was easy to tell the difference between a guest in a regular room and one in a suite. In all this mass, Mr. Russell somehow managed to find me and followed me like a little dog.

– Miss Spikes, this way.

I had just managed to get rid of Eric when Frances called out to me, pointing to a bulky door, behind which was a small conference room with a shield, a projector, and several chairs upholstered in reddish velvet.

– Position yourself in a way that is comfortable for you.

While everyone was taking their seats, I approached our guide.

– Francis, excuse me, but can I step outside for a minute, I need to make one principle call?

– Yes, of course. The seminar doesn’t start for another half hour, so you can go about your business in the meantime. If there’s anything else you need, come to me right away. I’ll be sitting in that corner over there.

We both looked at the last row.

– Thank you.

– You’re welcome.

I found Señor del Pozo’s number in my phone book rather quickly, and immediately dialed it.

– Hello? – After a short ringing tone, I said. – Is this Senor Francisco Salido del Pozo?

– Señorita Violet?

The detective’s voice had a pleasant accent that swallowed some consonants.

– That’s me!

– Monsieur Moreau told me about your trip to Algeria. Where are you at the moment?

Señor del Pozo referred to Mr. Moreau in the French manner because he was, in fact, a native Frenchman.

– I’m at the Olympic Plaza.

– Where?

Apparently he didn’t hear me, so I said it louder:

– At the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel.

A small silence ensued.

– Mr. Norland is at this particular hotel at the moment, senora.

My heart was beating at a frantic pace.

– Where exactly? Can you tell me?

I looked around to see Mike at last.

– He’s currently on the 46th floor.

It’s going to be very hard, kind of an accident to be there.

– What about you? Where are you at the moment?

– I am currently in room 303 in the same hotel.

– Then, may I come up to see you, Señor del Pozo?

Once again, a short-lived silence.

– Si, senora, you can.

– In that case, I’ll be with you shortly.

I reset the call and walked to the elevator, not understanding why my hands and feet were shaking so much. I heard the sound of the elevator arriving, and when its doors opened, I stepped in with the other people and pressed the third floor.

«Welcome to the operation Miss Spikes!»