One week later.

- So, Styopa, make two Americans for the seventh table and one cappuccino.

— All right, Darya Viktorovna.

Adjusting my pencil skirt and putting on a polite smile, I pick up the menu and go to the table where an elderly couple has just settled down, then I take an order from a group of girls and take the drinks made by the bartender to table number seven.

As soon as the restaurant changed ownership, the staff fell under serious disposal. They fired almost half, but they did not deign to hire new employees. And okay, the kitchen, I have nothing to do with this, but the...