How?" I demanded. "How could you have screwed this one up?" "When I got in, they said the manager was on the phone and would be a few minutes. So, I sat down and ordered a drink." This time, I did lean my forehead against the steering wheel. "What did you order?" "A martini." "A martini." I lifted my head. "You ordered a martini before a job interview." "It's a bar, Sage. I figured they'd be cool with it.
Richelle MeadWhen I talked to him earlier, he said he had to work tonight,โ Peter explained, โbut that we should go ahead and draw for him.โ โDraw?โ I asked uneasily. โOh Lord. Tell me itโs not Pictionary night too.โ Peter sighed wearily. โDraw for secret Santas. Do you even read the e-mails I send?โ โSecret Santas? Seems like we just did that,โ I said. โYeah, a year ago,โ said Peter. โJust like we do very Christmas.
Richelle MeadYou forgot another lesson: Never turn your back until you know your enemy is dead. Looks like weโll have to go over the lesson again the next time I see youโwhich will be soon. Love, D.
Richelle MeadYou guys didn't really think you could go off on a party weekend without me, did you? Especially here of all placesโ" He froze and it was one of those rare moments when Adrian Ivashkov was caught totally and completely off guard. "Did you know," he said slowly, "that Victor Dashkov is sitting on your bed?" "Yeah," I said. "It was kind of a shock to us too.
Richelle MeadLove is . . .โ An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when heโd been gone less than a day, but I couldnโt get him or the ways he described love out of my head. โ. . . a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winterโs night. A star that guides you home.
Richelle Mead