"Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swendson Shanna)

reported it to me." I tried to remember what I might have seen a couple of weeks
ago, but that seemed like a century and a half ago now. Then my brain zeroed in on
the fact that it was Owen who'd noticed me from afar, and I felt my cheeks grow
warm in a blush worthy of Owen himself. I reminded myself that it was my magic
immunity Owen had noticed, not my great legs or bouncy, shiny hair, as Rod
continued.

"So we began observing you, and you did appear to react to things that should have
been veiled to you, but you weren't extremely obvious about your reactions, so we
weren't sure. We'd noticed that you were most likely to take the subway on Monday
mornings, so we set up the test for you. Owen made sure that the train I was already
on arrived at the right time, and then we were able to measure your reaction to me."

If I'd felt sick and dizzy before, I felt worse now. I didn't like the idea of these freaks
spending a week or so watching me. "How was I supposed to react?" I asked.

He gave me a sheepish smile. "What do you see when you look at me?" he asked.
All the women in the room leaned forward with great interest, but I couldn't think of
a diplomatic way to phrase it. He must have noticed my discomfort, for he said,
"Don't worry, I know. You won't hurt my feelings."

"Well, um, well, your nose is a little big, and you could use a good skin-care
routine," I said with a wince. The other women in the room stared at him, then
looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "But it wasn't the way you looked that
put me off that morning," I hurried to add. "It was more your personality. You were
kind of sleazy, and you acted like you thought you were hot stuff, which is never
attractive."

"All part of the test," he said, as one of the fairies on the other side of the room
rolled her eyes and a business-suited woman snorted.

"So, what was that supposed to prove, that I have good taste in men?"

"What you see isn't what other people see. Let's just say that the face I show the
world is a far cry from the way you see me. I was also using a fairly intense
attraction spell, both in the subway and with your friends. Your reaction to my
appearance could have been just your personal preference, but believe me, if you
could be influenced in any way by magic, you would have been affected by the
attraction spell, no matter what your personal tastes might be."
I remembered my roommates comparing him to Johnny Depp and wondered if that
was the illusion he wore or the effects of his spell. Then I realized that I was taking
all of this seriously. I'd yet to see any proof that magic really existed. I'd just seen
that some rather unusual people could apparently walk the streets of New York
without drawing unwanted attention. "That's all very interesting," I said, "but it's not
as effective a proof as you might think. I mean, there have been a lot of men
everyone else seems to think are gorgeous while I'm not impressed. Take George
Clooney. I don't find him appealing at all, but everyone gushes over him."

"Would you like something to drink?" Owen asked in what seemed like a major non
sequitur or evasive action, until a small silver tray bearing a crystal goblet of water