Revenge – served cold. Лидия Антонова
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Having settled down at the bar, I made an order and turned to the TV, which was showing some foreign music videos. The blonde singer managed to sing something, while dancing in boots, on a huge platform and no less high heels, and in iron underpants. I wonder if she rubbed anything on herself.
" Don't you like her? " the bartender suddenly inquired.
" Honestly, it's the first time I've seen her," I said, embarrassed.
The bartender was a pretty good-looking guy. He had gray eyes, dark blond hair pulled back in a short, disheveled ponytail over shaved temples. And that's okay, but he even looked younger.
" Really? " He was genuinely surprised. " She's been on every channel lately. I even got it."
" So I guess I'm lucky," I laughed. Sneakingly reading the nametag, I should have done it right away.
" And how lucky," Denis assured me. " You'd better come tomorrow. We'll have a local rock band playing. You'll definitely like them"
" I will," I assured him.
Not listening to a local rock band in St. Petersburg is like not going to Red Square in Moscow and not buying a gingerbread in Tula.
Satisfied with the time I had spent, I went to my room. And on the stairs I heard some unexplainable screams. My premonition was right, it was all for me. It can't be that everything was going perfectly well, there must be a spoonful of honey in the barrel of honey.
Camille broke into my room and demanded to open it.
" What are you doing? " I asked, stopping so that the distance between us was a little more than two meters. The girl had clearly lost her mind. And it's dangerous to get close to someone like that.
The blonde turned sharply and thrust her clawed red manicure forward.
" Aha! I knew it was you!" Camille howled.
I took a step back, expecting her to lash out.
" Excuse me? " I wondered.
Who did she expect to see trying to kick down the door to my room?
" We were doing so well until you showed up!"
The blonde defiantly whimpered, about to burst into beautiful tears. I didn't understand what her complaint was, but I didn't plan to find out.
I had to get up early tomorrow, at eight in the morning, so that I could be ready for the conference by nine. It was the first hour of the morning and I still planned to get some sleep.
Taking advantage of the fact that Camille was busy with her theater production, I quickly opened the door to my room, planning to hide inside. And let her knock until the porter came! Turns out that's exactly what she was expecting. Pushing me away, the blonde was the first to break in with a shout of, "Aha!"
After scanning the entire room with her frantic gaze, she didn't calm down. The room was small, and most of it was occupied by a double bed, two nightstands on its sides, a built-in closet with glass doors on the opposite wall, where the blonde immediately stuck her nose. Not finding what she was looking for, she moved to the only neighboring room – a shower room with a toilet. I don't know what she was looking for, but she obviously couldn't find anything.
" Why do you need such a big bed? " Camille asked suspiciously.
I shrugged, seriously considering calling the receptionist to escort her out by force.
The blonde suddenly collapsed to the floor and looked under the bed. I dropped my bag in surprise.
" I'll catch you anyway," she hissed threateningly and stormed out of the room.
I hurried to lock the door. What if she decided to come back?! Psychos are unpredictable creatures! Sitting down on the bed, I decided to wait a bit to make sure she was gone for good and, if anything, to actually call hotel security for help. I would have to warn Andrew about her appearance tomorrow.
The biggest injustice in the world is when you almost have a day off and can sleep, but your body somehow wakes up at five in the morning. You can't sleep at all, and yet you can't go back to sleep.
For the first minute I stared at the perfectly white and flat ceiling and couldn't remember where I was. Then I tried to fall asleep for half an hour, but the kingdom of Morpheus waved me goodbye and slammed the door in my face in the most despicable way.
The booklet of the hotel, which I had studied yesterday, said that breakfast was served only at half past eight in the morning. So it was useless to walk through the corridors in search of coffee. But I had time to thoroughly study the conference program, as well as a small black planner the size of a palm, which was in an envelope with the documents given to me by Andrew at the airport.
What can I say, his schedule was no easier than usual. Let's start at least with a joint breakfast with a certain Sokolov at eight-thirty in the morning. So I'd have to remind him of that at 8:00 sharp. At least I wouldn't have to walk far, our rooms are on the same floor.
After studying the booklet again, I found that the only place to go in the morning was the gymnasium, which never closed. It was as if people could go out at 2am to socialize with the machines. I probably would have gone now too if I had known about it in advance and brought my sneakers. The hotel also has a spa and massage rooms, a swimming pool (if I find a store where I can buy a swimsuit, I will definitely go!), a restaurant and a bar, which I already managed to visit yesterday. The only entertainment available to me so far is the shower in my room, and that's where I went.
Living with a friend is fun, there's always someone to watch shows with, drink wine with and share expenses with. The only thing was that the shower in the morning had to be used in speed mode. We both had to get together at about the same time and half an hour standing under the jets of water was an unacceptable luxury.
I cleaned myself up, put on gray pants, a light shirt, and shoes with a low, wide heel. I didn't know how much running I'd have to do, so I'd better make sure I had comfortable shoes beforehand. I tucked my hair into a bun, tinted my eyes, and twirled around in front of the mirror.
Now I was ready, if not to conquer Peter, then at least to make an attempt.
For breakfast, I decided to go to the restaurant's opening time and drop off the paperwork to the boss a little early.
" Get out! "
Andrew opened the door before I could even knock. I was stunned by my boss, who was shaken up and especially angry this morning.
" Come in," he told me.
I was completely confused, having just been told to leave and then to come right in. I even took a closer look at him. Maybe he kept drinking instead of sleeping at night, and in the morning he caught a squirrel? The general crumpled appearance could be an indication that he just didn't have time to clean himself up in the morning, or it could be that he didn't sleep at all.
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