"James Patrick Kelly - Chemistry" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

"Never done it before." Sweat beaded across his face
like a glass of iced tea. "I'm from Toronto."
"Hand over hand and heel over heel
The more you dance the better you feel."
"I've finally decided who you remind me of." Keith had
green eyes and more teeth than a shark. "One of those
Vermeer women, standing in front of a window." The fat
end of his untied tie dangled in front of his crotch and
the skinny end beat against his pocket as he danced.
"Vermeer, you know, the painter?"
Not a bad line, she thought, but he ruined it by
prompting her. "Keith." She tugged the tie from around
his neck and handed it to him. "Is this yours?"
Her next partner ignored her. "Yes, of course I did." He
spoke over his shoulder to the Asian woman behind Lily.
"She belonged with her parents."
"Tuck in your shirt, pull down your vest
And bow to the one you like the best."
The fiddlers tipped their instruments toward the caller
and the dance ended. Lily might have nodded at Keith,
the Vermeer fan, if he'd been paying attention, but he
was already fawning over an older woman with eyes like
targets. Someone tapped her left shoulder; she turned.
"My name is Steve." The guy with cold hands bowed.
"Lily." She glanced down to see that she hadn't lost her
name badge. "Obviously."
"Lily, do you know that people rarely change their first
impressions?" His eye contact was relentless.
"Is that so?" she said. Steve was as clean-cut as a
Marine recruiter. He had stubby fingers and wide
shoulders. A thread hung loose from the middle
buttonhole of his jacket. "What's yours?" He hadn't
gotten any taller.
He held up open palms, as if to show he was unarmed.
"That you're gorgeous, lonely, nervous and still
shopping. Will you at least let me shake your hand
again?"
"Promise to give it back?" she said. He had a precise
and sincere grip that didn't try to prove anything.
"You've warmed up." Their hands fit together nicely.
"When my palms get sweaty," he said, "I rinse them under
cold water. It's a sales trick: the confident man keeps
a cool hand."
She had never understood why men always said such odd
things to her.
"Here's another," he continued. "Say we're shaking and
you haven't decided whether to trust me. Look where your
hand is, Lily. When we started talking, you kept it
close to your body. Now that I've drawn it toward me
slightly, you've come along with it."