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Escort For The Witch. Veronika Grossman
Читать онлайн.Название Escort For The Witch
Год выпуска 2024
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Автор произведения Veronika Grossman
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Sabrina closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought of the upcoming autumn .
Everything around her dimmed and sank into hopeless sorrow… Immersed in her sad thoughts, Sabrina didn’t even notice Jack approach the kitchen and stand by the door frame, trying not to disturb her brooding. Reluctantly, he glanced at the lonely clock, on the table – five in the morning.
“Not that it’s late, but still too early for visits,” Jack decided and cleared his throat, trying to get Sabrina’s attention.
“I’m not opposed to taking a walk, but it would be silly not to use the car waiting for me with open doors,” he said softly, glancing at the clock again.
The girl flinched as if caught off guard, sharply turned around, and her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowed in anger once again.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice you come in,” Sabrina whispered and glanced shyly at the attractive young man still standing in the doorway.
“Maybe you want some coffee or breakfast?” she murmured after a short pause, then averted her gaze, noticing genuine surprise on Jack’s face and a faint smile playing on his lips.
“Wow, I’m shocked,” he whispered, raising his beautifully arched eyebrows in surprise.
Sabrina snorted impatiently, turned away, and started rearranging the kitchen towels, previously neatly stacked on the table.
“No, seriously, where’s the lecture on the harm I’ve caused to your brother as a result of our interaction?” Jack asked with interest, unable to hide the mischievous smile that reappeared on his lips.
“Let’s save it for next time,” Sabrina retorted sarcastically, casting Jack a stern look. “Knowing Eric and you, I can confidently say that the next time will happen in less than twenty hours.”
“Witch,” Jack said and chuckled, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. “And now, give me the keys, and I won’t torment you with my presence anymore. At least for the next twenty hours.”
“You’re such a…” Sabrina hissed and tossed the car keys into the young man’s outstretched hand, making it clear with her whole demeanor that his visit for the day was over.
Meanwhile, Jack’s mood only improved; he winked at her and walked out of the house leisurely, whistling a cheerful tune. Sabrina, on the other hand, returned to her post by the window and furtively watched as the tall, handsome, man walked to a black Chevrolet Camaro parked across the street. He stopped, lit a cigarette after some contemplation, and then got into the car. Slowly rolling down the window, he glanced back at his old friend’s house. His eyes caught the beautiful but somewhat troubled face of the girl watching him with interest. Sabrina blushed under his piercing gaze and, unable to contain her emotions, abruptly pulled the curtain. Jack gave a weary smile, started the engine, and sped off into the dawn.
Chapter 2
Damned mission. Whatever That Means…
With the first days of September, real fall suddenly arrived in New Orleans. The cozy warmth of the departing summer was filled with restless gusts of still warm but already crisp wind, lazily wrecking the gilded foliage of the summer-sick trees.
Jack parked his car near the administrative building of the University of New Orleans, lit a cigarette and got out. The young man’s green eyes expressed extreme dissatisfaction with the weather.
“Well, well,” he thought, and squinted at the sky, veiled with heavy gray clouds, hoping to glimpse at least a tiny ray of sunshine in it. Never before in his memory had September in New Orleans been so gloomy.
“Well, such things happen sometimes too.” Jack leisurely finished his cigarette and headed towards the university office. A huge sign adorned the freshly painted door, on which in giant scarlet letters was written “Welcome!” Jack smirked and, pushing the hefty door, walked in…
Inside, madness reigned. Everywhere, with wild eyes full of despair, new students wandered – “Fresh blood…” Jack thought sarcastically, immediately brushing the ugly thought off. He somehow managed to squeeze through the crowd of freshmen , who were arguing eagerly about which section of building ‘A’ they should search for the biology lab. And most importantly, how to find this building
‘A’ (since there were seventeen of them, and classes were starting in just thirty minutes, which meant very, very little in the minds of the newly minted students); their cries and shouts grew louder and louder. And this, in turn, irritated Jack more and more. With an air of importance, he elbowed his way to the administrator’s desk and leaned over it. The girl at the desk, who had been humming along to a cheerful tune coming from an old MP3 player, received the fright of her life.
Picking up one of the campus maps lying on the desk, he silently, with a meaningful gesture, handed it to who he thought was the most panic-stricken of the students. The poor kid turned pale and grabbed the lifesaving map with trembling hands, barely restraining a happy smile, before plopping down on a nearby bench apparently intended for the purpose.
“Well, actually, it’s my job, young man,” the administrator girl said in an angry, squeaky voice, her gray eyes boring into on Jack’s smug face.
Jack looked around, wrinkling his nose theatrically.
“Oh, Betty, it’s you. Well, of course it’s you,” Jack smiled. “You’re doing a great job, Betty! Don’t forget to deduct my percentage from the paycheck.”
“No wonder everyone hates you,” the admin girl retorted coldly.
Jack winked cunningly and smiled even wider, trying to suppress more acidic remark that kept coming to his mind.
“Ah, Betty, let’s not argue, okay? This might last until old age. And now, try to actually do at least part of your job, okay? Tell me, where can I find Mrs. Renton?”
The girl shot a malicious glance towards the young man, whose cheerful mood had evaporated without a trace. Her whole demeanor indicated how much she wanted to yank his earring or stick a pencil into his hand. In short, to do anything to get back at him for the snide remarks he constantly showered her with. Poor Betty couldn’t recall a week in the past three years that she had worked at the university office in New Orleans without handsome Jack Cornell, or someone from his small circle, coming in and saying something nasty.
“You know you have yourself to blame, Betty,” Jack said as if reading her thoughts, his voice tinged with reproach. “So just tell me where to find Mrs.
Renton, and I promise you won’t see me again today.”
“She’s filling in for Mr. Zigon today. So, I suppose she’s giving an introductory chemistry lecture in…”
“Well, it turns out thinking isn’t such a difficult task after all, and in some cases, quite useful!” Jack interrupted and headed for the exit. Glancing back he saw that the freshmen were still trying to locate building ‘A’ on the map. “Well, sooner or later, they’ll find it and rush to their classes. I need to catch their teacher before they drive her crazy with their endless quest for knowledge in chemistry,” Jack thought, wasting no time as he hurried off in search of the coveted instructor.
The laboratory in Building ‘A’ is a specially equipped space for conducting so-called practical classes in biology and chemistry. There’s everything you could imagine here! A great variety of all sorts of plants, intricately intertwined into a cohesive whole, the mysterious hybrids of which evoke rather ambiguous, and sometimes quite contradictory emotions. An abundance of low glass shelves with various chemicals, flasks, and instruments for conducting experiments, all provided by the Department of Education of