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I breathed through my teeth and dropped the call. I collapsed onto my pillow and tried to sleep. It didn't work, though; anger was more energizing than anything else.
After turning around for about ten minutes and realizing that she couldn't fall asleep, she got up and went to the kitchen.
In fact, Mila had woken me up only half an hour earlier than my alarm clock, but that half hour was exactly what I needed to sleep. I had been missing half an hour all week.
To my surprise, Ramila was already in the kitchen, absent-mindedly stirring coffee in a coffee pot. She looked as if she hadn't been to bed at all.
" Can't sleep? " I asked glumly.
I usually got up first, showered, and then met her in the kitchen.
" You could say that. I keep thinking, what exactly Dimitri was counting on when he went on a walk?"
" Does it make any difference? " I inquired with demonstrative indifference.
" Of course! " Ramilya assured me eagerly.
I sat down on the chair and raised my eyebrows in surprise. It seemed that my friend could not calm down and continued to think about her plan of revenge.
" What does it matter to us what he was counting on? I doubt we'll be able to get him to talk about it. "
" Why would we ask him anything? We could just follow him."
I was lucky I was able to sit up. If I'd stood up, I'd have fallen. Ramila seems to have had a lot of crazy ideas this morning. And she loves them.
I didn't share them. As far as I was concerned, the idea was impossible, moreover, on the verge of fantasy. But Ramila seemed to like it more and more every minute. I had to touch her forehead defiantly.
" Don't fuss," Ramila waved my hand away.
" Didn't you sleep well? Why do you suddenly have such strange ideas in the morning? And in general, how do you envision it? Are we going to ride the subway after him? And beforehand, to specify – at what station to get off? "
Dimitri traveled around the city by car, and we took the subway. Of course, we could take a cab, but traffic jams can eat up a fortune, and we can't even talk about our modest means.
" How we do it is another matter," Ramilya snorted.
I sighed and, pushing her away from the stove, took the pot off the fire. Ramila was so excited that she stopped watching the drink. It looked like the coffee was nasty and overcooked, but it didn't even run off. I don't know how she does it. Mine escapes almost immediately. All my attempts to make an Americano end up with washing the stove, the pot, and sometimes the floors, and I have to drink instant coffee to realize my inadequacy.
I poured the coffee into cups and sat Ramila in a chair. I didn't understand why she was having this conversation at all.
" Let's start at the beginning," I suggested. " Why are you going to follow him? "
" Think about it, Dimitri has been using women all his life to achieve his plans. So his next woman is much richer than the one he's married to. And if he hasn't moved in with her and divorced her yet, it can only mean that their relationship hasn't reached the stage of living together yet."
" So? " I asked dumbly.
Hearing about another of Dimitri's girlfriends hurt. I would have been more than happy to end this conversation. Only then, developed a detailed and illogical plan, will sit in the nearest bushes from the office with theater binoculars.
" And the fact that now is exactly the moment when you can intervene and spoil his "raspberry"."
" You think?"
" Oh, Rina, you never cease to amaze me! Now he's not going out with a girl, he's going out with his legal wife. Plus he works for her father's company. One mistake and he's"
" Unemployed, but with his own apartment," I finished.
It was a sore subject. I never dared to tell my parents the truth. And they're always asking how I live and want me to take pictures of the apartment. So far I've managed to avoid this conversation, but I'm afraid it won't last long.
Ramilya is certainly getting carried away and, at the moment, her thought is more like the plot of a detective novel. But she is right about one thing, it is a good moment to reveal Dimitri's affairs. However, there was still an open question: " how to find out who that woman was?
" Do you have an idea yet? "
" Not yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something."
***
All the way to the office, I thought about our conversation with Ramila.
In fact, my friend was right; if we didn't intervene now, there was no way to get revenge. There was one more problem, I wasn't sure I needed this. Immersed in my thoughts, I made it to the office almost without adventure. All I got was another foot stomp and an elbow to the stomach.
I got out of the flow of people and walked toward the office. When I hesitated, I almost ran into a lone picketer. I understand when people strive for something important, but here the sign said: "save aliens from space."
I was floored and frozen in place. I can't even imagine what humanity has to do to accomplish this? The man holding the placard gave me a look of superiority and set his jaw stubbornly. I belatedly jerked into the crosswalk, the traffic light blinked mockingly and switched to red. It told me it would take a hundred and eighty seconds to stop.
I had to run the last couple of dozen meters to the office. When I reached the entrance hall, I slowed down to find my phone ringing in my bag. Only when I stopped, I noticed Dimitri standing in front of the guards. He was talking to someone on the phone. Judging by the way he was writing, the conversation was unpleasant. If I hadn't stopped, I might have hit him. He'd be surprised to see me.
I didn't have time to jump out into the street, and I wasn't ready for him. I dropped the bag I'd been rummaging through for my phone, its contents scattering on the floor. Feeling like I was going to burst into tears, I started to pick it up.
" You're Miss Tidy today, aren't you?"
Julia sat down next to me. I gave her a quick glance and continued taking everything into the bag.
" Almost," I muttered.
Julia laughed and started helping me pack. I was more grateful to her for blocking Dimitri from me. The former "man of my life" didn't recognize me. Just slid an indifferent glance and went to the elevator. I tried to reassure myself that it was because of the color of my hair, the dye was uneven, and it turned out to be a kind of melting. Well, it was still better than my natural mousy color.
" What's your hurry? And why do you look like that? " Julia asked.
" Because you don't know what will happen if I'm late?"
Out of the corner of my eye I watched Dimitri enter the elevator. He looked like a Greek god, if the gods of Olympus really existed, and they were stylists for glossy magazines. Dark hair, slightly disheveled by the wind, long black coat, impeccable suit. And there's nothing to say about the right facial features and statuesque figure.
" Oh-oh, don't tell me you've fallen victim to our handsome man? " Julia grinned contemptuously.
" Yes, a victim on the altar," I muttered.
" He'd chosen another unfortunate woman as his victim. And she's so in love with him that she doesn't even want to see the obvious."
" The obvious?" I wondered.
" Of course! This macho, before marrying, tried almost all the women in this office.
Julia laughed, but it seemed to me that there was something personal in it. Not for nothing she is trying so hard to bypass him on the career ladder? "
" Run, I'll try to hold him off, " Julia suddenly said, looking behind my back.
Turning around, I found Andrew , rapidly approaching us. Quickly thanking Julia, I ran up the stairs to my workplace. There was no time to wait for the elevator. I hope Julia will be able to delay him for at least a couple of minutes. I should just throw off my coat so he wouldn't realize I'd just arrived. Losing my job would be much more frustrating now than it would have been even a week ago. And as Ms.Adams told me, the only thing Andrew doesn't tolerate is tardiness.
***
As I flew into the waiting room, I threw off my coat and sat down in my seat, pretending I'd been here a long time. The hardest part was getting my breathing even. I ran up the stairs only three floors, but it felt like ten. I should do some cardio workouts after all.
As I waited, Andrew appeared almost right behind me, muttering something unintelligible, he opened up in his office. I remained seated in my seat, for the first time since morning not having received an order. Truly, I had never seen him so angry. All of Julie's efforts to get his attention seemed to have had the opposite effect. Instead of taking an interest in her, she started to annoy him.
Putting Juli's and her boss's problems out of her mind, she decided to think about her own. A confrontation with Dimitri in front of Julia would have exposed us. I doubt he would have been able to keep from making a couple of compromising comments about us. I doubt she'd like the fact that we already know him. And I'd better not show my face to him just yet, but when we finish the project....
Dreaming and thinking are best done with your hands full. So first, I programmed the coffee machine for a double Americano and then watered the palm tree. Preparing papers to sign, a tray of coffee, and exhaling in front of the supervisor's door.
" Good morning, " I said hello to Andrew, entering his office.
Putting a cup of coffee on his desk and putting the documents in front of him, I froze. Andrew took a sip of coffee, hummed approvingly and looked at me.
" Do you remember what day it is today? " He asked glumly.
" Today is the board of directors, of course. The commercial director has already sent the report so you can read it in advance. It's in the top folder. The waiters will be here on time, they've already confirmed the order."
Maybe I should have told him it happened at five in the morning. Maybe he'd cheer up. The bosses were in a bad mood today, and I was afraid to say too much. In that mood, "You're fired" comes off quickly.
" Well, I hope it goes smoothly this time."
I didn't ask how it went last time. It's clear that he didn't like the result. Actually, it was not surprising. The director is young, and the deputies are old. I think there are those who think that they can cope with this position better.
Andrew leaned back in his chair, corrected his watch, unbuttoned the cuff, then buttoned it and took it off for some reason. It was obvious to the naked eye that he was worried.
" Can I get you some … chamomile tea?"
I corrected myself at the last second and didn't offer a sedative. It wouldn't hurt, though.
" No thanks," Andrew hissed, having managed to read the sedative between the lines.
" Can I go now?"
I wanted not only to leave, to run away from him. I don't know where that confident man who'd been going to work all week had gone. Today he's replaced by a nervous and twitchy boy.
" Yeah, yeah, go and check it out again."
As I left the office, I exhaled a sigh of relief. I didn't expect him to be so worried.
***
" So formidable, huh? " They asked me sympathetically.
I shuddered with surprise and looked at the early visitor. A short, short-haired brunette, dressed in a bag with fringe (it looked faintly like the fashionable boho style, more like a bag even with fabric), smiled sympathetically at me.
" Excuse me, do you have an appointment?"
I ignored her question. Now I had a much more important problem – how could I make an appointment for this day?
" Oh yes, we haven't met in person yet. I'm Mila. I'm so happy to meet you."
She smiled charmingly. My smile was not so happy, but rather artificial and glued.
" You're here too early," I enlightened her, fighting the urge to strangle her.
Thanks to her, I almost fell asleep on the subway, holding onto the handrail and leaning against the man standing next to me.
" Oh, of course! You and I have so much to prepare!"
I pulled my eyebrows together, not sure what she meant. To me, she had a simple task – to bring the waiters who would put the food on plates and set the table.
" I'll be glad to help you in any way I can," I informed her nonetheless.
" I believed in you, Rina! You are my bright angel! " Mila splashed her hands.
I had no other choice but to smile and unobtrusively lead her out of the waiting room. Andrew is not in the right frame of mind to face such a cheerful person like her. Even I was annoyed by her diminutive and affectionate suffixes, and he'd definitely freak out. And since I'm the closest employee he can reach, all the anger will fall on me.
Taking Mila to the room reserved for waiters, I showed her where the dishes, towels, and flutes were, and turned on the refrigerator. This room, not an employee dining room. It was for the service staff, who were constantly called to all the meetings and large meetings.
Leaving Mila to go through the plates "what if they are chipped and it will not be nice and unpleasant!", I returned to the reception room. I have a lot of work to do without Mila. First, I opened the windows in the conference room to check it out. I put the mineral water and the glasses rubbed to a shine in their places. I printed out six more copies of the report and organized them into special folders.
I don't know who invented this statute, but I carried the documents in a red folder for signing. If Andrew just needed to familiarize himself with something, then – in the black one. Invitations to exhibitions or receptions – in the green one. And the folders for the Board of Directors' report were dark purple.
***
Time flew by without a second thought, I didn't have time to close the windows before the participants began to gather.
The first to arrive in the conference hall were both of Andrew 's deputies. I had seen them only glimpses before, greeted them faithfully and never received a reply. They always looked at me only as furniture.
Both deputies were of advanced age, overweight and somewhat similar to each other. Mr. Druz was in principle constantly busy and talked on the phone. Nair Iosifovich Akhmadulin looked through everyone and looked down on them. Mr. Brow, as he was "affectionately" called on the sidelines of the company. I liked it because he was Dimitri's father-in-law.
When they came in, they immediately settled down in the armchairs. Tension hung in the air.
" Coffee," Mr. Brow demanded.
I smiled sweetly, waiting for him to continue. I didn't know what kind he drank. Maybe he liked it sugary and black or, on the contrary, without sugar but with cream?
" I'll just have a black one, and a lot more," asked Pyotr Ivanovich.
He looked away from his papers for a moment, gave me an indifferent glance, and then went back to his documents.
