emelchik: переводы

→"It's nice to meet you," she said, still maintaining that too-perfect smile. "I didn't know Mitch had a sister. You seem to be…enjoying the pool."

→She smiled and gave my hand a quick squeeze. "I hope we get to see you around. Oh—here we are."

→leave."

→"Where is Dana?" I hadn't even seen the main attraction tonight. "I mean, I'm such a fan and all. When Mitch told me we were coming, I couldn't even believe it."

→Hallmark.

→The Stepford Wives giggled again at this. "Oh! That's so funny."

→"We were just talking about stamping. Do you stamp, Tabitha?"

→But this? This was an American Wet Dream.

→Now, I had a few well-formed ideas about the American Dream. After all, I'd been alive in the days when the term was first coined. I'd seen it arise, seen the mythology that surrounded it, seen the white picket fences and cute, well-kept neighborhoods. I'd even watched Leave it to Beaver. Seth's brother, for example, lived north of the city and had a pretty nice chunk of it carved out.

→When I pulled up to his house, I could only sit in my car and stare for a few minutes.

→So, I finished my shift doing her extra jobs and serving as backup. It was exhausting, but I was happy to do it, still worrying about her and her baby. When we closed, I headed straight over to the suburbs, following the directions Bastien had given me.

→She shook her head, arguing again, and I argued right back. At last, Paige yielded, which only verified something must be seriously wrong. Those who went head-to-head with her rarely won.

→"That's crazy. I can do that stuff."

→She nodded, forcing a strained smile. "It…it's nothing."

→I started toward her. "Are you okay?"

→Her words dropped off as a grimace crossed her face and one hand clutched her stomach.

→Studying nothing in particular, Paige drummed her lacquered red nails against the desk as she thought about what to do. "This will get cleared up with the staff in time. That, or they'll just get over it. What I don't like is the idea of any outsiders drawing conclusions. You do sound like that character, and anyone else who reads the story could make the same mistake. I don't want rumors starting that half of Seth's reason for working here is that he gets sexual favors on the side, courtesy of our employees."

→"Damn it. It's not me."

→"So," she began crisply, "I've been hearing some rumors—"

→I followed her to her office, letting her close the door behind us. Not surprisingly, a copy of American Mystery sat on her desk.