Читать книгу The Bourbon Thief - Tiffany Reisz, Tiffany Reisz - Страница 13

8

Paris

“You were right,” McQueen said. “Maybe I don’t want to hear this story, after all.”

“Too late. The train has left the station. No stopping it until the end of the line.” Paris crossed her legs, long beautiful legs. He didn’t even want to look at them anymore. Nor her face, either. But she looked at him, stared at him. Her face was a sealed bottle, corked and capped and covered in foil. He could get nothing out of it.

“Tamara tied the red ribbon around her grandfather’s finger,” he finally said. “Smart.”

“You’re familiar with the tradition?” she asked, seeming pleased with him.

“I don’t know where it started,” he admitted. “But they said Red Thread drinkers would take the ribbon off the neck of the bottle and twist it around their fingers if they managed the manly feat of drinking an entire bottle in one night. A badge of honor.”