A knock on the door saves me again:

- Can? - Alyonka's bitchy voice.

“Yes, yes, come in,” Denis is distracted by her.

Alena carefully opens the heavy doors and waves some kind of leaf in front of the boss:

“I found a resume,” she smiles. Shows all his teeth. He behaves like a bitch in a mating, trying with all his might to wrench him. It's so obvious from the outside and so disgusting.

- Come here, - Denis returns to his papers again. Alena approaches him and carefully places my resume on the edge of the table. And there the photo, to put it mildly, is unsuccessful, and why Katyukha decided that this is my best photo. She would have taken a picture of me in the kitchen in curlers and an old dressing gown and put me on the table.

Alena is not moving, she is afraid of him, like me.

“You can be free,” he looks up at her. “Is there no one in the waiting room?”

- No, they just called from the factory ... - she climbs out of her skin, trying with all her might to linger next to him as long as possible.

“I know,” Denis answers shortly. - Reschedule all meetings for two, I'm leaving now.

“Good,” Alyonka smiles and reluctantly leaves his office.

Denis takes the sheet with my resume in his hands and studies it for a few seconds. And then he rips it in two right in front of my eyes. He picks up an empty trash can from the floor and throws it there.

I have tears in my eyes from excitement, but I'm not crying, I'm just nervous.

- Can I be free? I swallow again.

“You can go,” he replies, and returns to his papers.

Neither alive nor dead, I get up from my chair. The legs do not go, everything is shaking inside. Just don't stumble and cry now. But I don't want to cry. On the contrary, I feel some kind of freedom, the joy of the fact that everything is over, even so.

I reach the door and cast a farewell glance at Denis. No, I already realized that I will never work in this place. I just want to remember his facial features so that this night I can think about him, about his cheekbones, eyebrows, about the unbuttoned button of his shirt, about his powerful torso and about his eyes.

He is distracted for a second from his affairs and looks at me attentively:

- Is there anything else you wanted? he asks me. And I don't even know what to say.

“No,” I whisper silently, using only my lips.

“Then, have a nice day. It was nice to meet you. - He smiles at me. But this is just a smile on duty, in which there is not a single gram of sincerity. At the same time, he is all tense, as if on pins and needles, as in a war.

I open the door and go out. Alyona is gone, she has gone somewhere. And I'm alone in the waiting room. Huh, like a stone fell from the soul. I lean back against the wood-panelled wall. I want to rejoice and cry. But not now, first I'll drive home, buy myself a pound of ice cream, treat myself. I turn on the cartoons and sit down to watch. I really love cartoons, I'm small.

On wadded legs I go out through the main exit. It's good outside, the birds are chirping, the breeze and the sun. Life is Beautiful. I go to my car, shuffle, my legs really do not hold, I was so worried.

I sit behind the wheel of my car and exhale. And my heart is so light and easy. Just be sure not to forget to cry. They took me away from work. I look at the phone screen. One missed from Katyukha. I'll call her back from home when I'm crying and eating ice cream. I'll buy myself a banana. I've been dreaming about it for so long.

“And how can I leave now?” I turn on the reverse gear, release the clutch and hear a sharp pop and the creak of iron.

“I dug into someone,” I turn around and see a jeep, a huge white one with tinted windows and a panoramic roof. He stands sideways to me, and I rammed his rear doors with my clumsy stern.

- What are you doing! I hear an angry scream behind me. - Why can't you see where you're going, you fucking idiot!

I am neither alive nor dead. The soul literally went to the heels, and the lower abdomen got colder. I sit, clinging to the steering wheel, I can not move.

“What kind of day is today?” I almost cry.

Who taught you to drive!? Who even drives these lets!? People like you need to be isolated from society - I hear a powerful jerk, and my driver's door almost opens with meat.

Frightened, I turn around and raise a guilty look.

“Excuse me,” I squeeze out of myself and see General Denis Vladimirovich Katyukhin, I just failed the interview with him.

“God, please, I beg you, not him. Just not his car. What a nonentity I am. I had to stay at home and not go out. You can't let me out at all."

“Sorry, sorry,” I repeat plaintively, sobbing and stuttering. And he is furious, he is furious and deservedly so. His eyes are already bloodshot, and his breath, like the breath of a dragon, burns me, and the jaws play on his beautiful face. And the second button on the shirt was torn, revealing his tanned chest even more.

“Come here and see what you've done,” Denis says quietly, but his whispers make my blood run cold. As if all his power and rage in these words, in these sounds.

“Sorry,” I close my eyes, I need to somehow calm down. Often, often I flap my cilia so as not to burst into tears and not make myself look like a complete fool. - I compensate everything, I have insurance ...

“What-yo-yo-urt… insurance expired! Bli-i-i-in, well, how so. Just not today, just not today. Hold on, hold on, my girl ... You need to go home, you urgently need to go home.

I look up at him and realize that I can't pity him. I get up and follow him on shaky legs. Also, the heels are somehow uncomfortable, and the legs are barely dragging. I walk as if inanimate, my soul is all in my heels, and my head is spinning, and my vision is blurry as luck would have it. It happens from nerves. There is some kind of rumble in my temples, it seems to me that a stroke will be enough for me now.

- Look what you've done! Fool, who let you drive, this door costs like your whole car, and there’s not enough for painting, ”he growls. The heel gets into a hole in the pavement, I stumble and fall, knocking down my knee. Damn it hurts.

And then I burst into tears.

- Wu-u-u, - I sit and whine, my leg also hurts. How embarrassing, how I feel sorry for myself. Poor, unhappy, humiliated, sick, useless. Lord, why do I need all this?! I sit, sobbing and sobbing, I don’t see anything in front of me, only circles before my eyes.

And Denis is standing and looking at me. And suddenly he hugs me and presses me to his broad chest and strokes my head. Helps me get up.

- Yulechka, what are you doing? I can't even believe it's Denis. It turns out that he can be so gentle. And I'm crying and I can't stop. And so I feel sorry for myself. And he strokes me and strokes my hair. Don't cry, it's just a car. She is iron, what can she do.

I can't believe he can be so gentle.

“It’s kind of a stupid day today,” I sob, “I failed the interview, I broke my heel, I smashed your car ... whine, whine,” I sob.

- Forget about the car - it seems to me that in front of me is another person, only with the appearance of Denis. “I tore off my leg,” he gently touches my knee. - Doesn't it hurt? Can you go?

- I'll try - I take a step and stumble again, but he picks me up and wraps me in his arms, brings me to his car. He opens the back door and puts me in the interior of his Infiniti. I have never even sat in such luxurious cars. Everything here is leather and the smell of a new car is as if straight from the passenger compartment. Tinted windows and climate control. So fresh, it even dries my tears.

I sit in tears, and Denis looks at my leg and carefully removes her shoe.

- Didn't turn up much? He asks and looks me straight in the eyes. With his hands he crushes my foot, touches his fingers, I'm already excited. I even have this excitement in my ears.

“No,” I say silently and flutter my eyelashes.

“My girl, Yulechka, I’m sorry I yelled, I don’t know what came over me,” he gently massages his foot, touches his ankle and squeezes each finger. - Does it hurt here? He looks into my eyes again with his piercing gaze.

“A little bit,” I no longer cry, but simply whimper.

Denis takes a dry napkin out of his pocket and hands it to me. And then he takes a cotton pad out of the glove compartment and applies it to my torn knee. His hand lingers on my knee a little longer than it should be, but I am pleased to the point of squeaking in my ears. And I have nothing to say or object.

He examines my legs so carefully while massaging them.

“How smooth they are,” he finally says.

“Thank you,” I whisper silently and pull my sock even harder.

“Just perfect,” he adds, and kisses me softly on the ankle. And then he looks up and smiles, - I'm sorry, I couldn't restrain myself, I shouldn't have done this, - he removes his lips from my legs.

“No need to apologize,” I sigh languidly, “for so many years no one has kissed my legs.

“So far no one sees,” he smiles and kisses them again, closer to the fingers. I throw my head back in pleasure and smile through my tears.

“That’s it.” He puts my shoe back on. - Doesn't it hurt anymore?

- No, - I whisper in response, - you "treated" me.

And I feel so good now, this is the best reward for the whole stupid day.

“Actually, I never kiss,” he tries to fasten the button on his chest, but notices that he has torn it.

- And for me you made an exception - a squeak in my ears, a stupid squeak in my ears, I'm so excited that I can hardly hear anything anymore.

“Not for you, but for your legs,” Denis clarifies. - They deserve it.

“Thank you,” I say with my lips.

He looks me straight in the eyes and we lean towards each other to kiss. I can no longer control myself. But then everything is destroyed by the sound of police sirens.

“Sit here,” he says, and turns to the police car that has arrived. And I watch everything from the salon of his infiniti. It's so soft here, so comfortable, not like in my Lancer.

Towards Denis, an officer comes out of the police car.

- The parking guard reported the incident ... - I hear the beginning of the conversation, and I myself gently touch the place on the ankle where Denis kissed. I won't wash it now (just kidding).

“False alarm, nothing happened. Everything is normal, we will settle everything here ourselves, - Denis makes a helpless gesture.

– Right? - The officer looks over his back and sees me. Then he takes out some protocol and hands it to him. - Sign the fake call.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Denis strikes something and immediately returns to me. And I got accustomed already in his car. And why is my Lancer not so chic?

“As far as I understand, you don’t have insurance,” he looks me straight in the eyes.

“I rarely drive,” I justify myself. “I’ll give it all, honestly, honestly.

- Yes, nothing is needed, my car is insured in CASCO.

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