- Vikulya, this is only before the wedding. You know, we really need this. - Dima has been repeating the same thing for an hour already, and also firmly holding my hand.

I looked at my fiancé in confusion.

- Dima, I understand everything. We need money. But go to work as a secretary? It's not mine at all and you know it very well.

- Well, the sun, do not be stubborn. This is a very good offer. If it weren’t for your mother’s friend, who works in the personnel of this company, you wouldn’t even have been called for an interview! Yes, there are five people per seat!

She chuckled. Yes, of course, where do I care about these long-legged beauties that always come out of the doors of the plant management building of the largest enterprise in our city. I know for sure. I had the good fortune to watch them through the window of the University during lectures.

- Yes, where did you get the idea that they would take me at all?

- Mom's friend promised to put in a good word for you. - Dima winked at me, got up from the sofa and continued cheerfully on the way to the kitchen. “Vikulya, I already said that I can’t go anywhere now. My boss is one foot retired, his successor is about to be appointed. With my department head salary, we can afford a lot. And maybe in time you won't have to work. You just need to be a little patient.

I got up from the couch and went after the groom.

- Dima, do you know what rumors usually go about girls working as secretaries? I would not like to acquire such a reputation.

- Well, certainly not at this enterprise. Nevsky grandfather already. I don't think he still has an interest in such things. Dima chuckled. So let's end this pointless discussion. On Monday at ten in the morning you are scheduled for an interview with Nevsky. Dress nicely.

She took a deep breath and, leaving Dimka alone with tea and pancakes freshly baked by me in the kitchen, moved towards the bedroom.

Dress decently ... Yes, a task. She opened the door of an old closet and carefully examined its contents. What do they wear to an interview for a secretary position? Obviously something classic. Of the classic ones, I only have a black pencil skirt, a white shirt and a fitted jacket in the color of the skirt. I bought this kit six months ago before defending my second diploma. The set hung forlornly in a dry-cleaned case in the very corner of the wardrobe. Below in the drawer were classic black pumps. Of course, because I defended my diploma in the summer, and now it's November. Not suitable. She opened another drawer, there were demi-season high-heeled suede boots. So it seems to be nothing.

Did I know that, even with my two higher educations, in our city without acquaintances, you won’t get a decent job in any decent place? Of course she knew. But I really hoped that a qualified engineer with additional knowledge of economics would not be lost in life. Wrong. In my twenty-three years, the only place where they once agreed to hire me without any experience was a small hotel on the outskirts of the city. The work of the administrator was not dusty. A day after three, which allowed me to calmly receive a second higher education in absentia. The salary, of course, left much to be desired, but there was enough money for living and renting a odnushka in a small Khrushchev. In the same hotel, I met my current fiancé Dimka, then still a simple sales representative, and today the deputy head of the customer service department. Then, on behalf of his superiors, he came to accommodate colleagues sent from another branch in the hotel where I worked. And now, two years later, having completed my second education, under pressure from Dimka, I quit the hotel and was in search of a new “more worthy job for Dmitry Anosov’s wife,” as my future husband used to say.

- My wife will not smile and bow in front of strange men! Quit! - Dimka announced to me two weeks after graduation, when he was picking me up in a car from a work shift. He always picked me up in the morning, took me home, and after that he went to his work.

I quit right away. But he hasn't been able to find a new job. Either there is little experience, then the age is “such”, when all the young ladies are in a hurry to go on maternity leave, then the salary did not suit me already. And now, almost four months after her dismissal from the hotel, Dimkin's mother announced a vacancy for the secretary of the general director position at the largest enterprise in our city. A friend who works there as the head of the personnel department told her about this in secret. Typically, such vacancies are not publicly available on job search sites. Such positions are taken from “their own”. In short, I was incredibly lucky and it would be foolish to miss such a chance. Salaries there are certainly high, and the prospects are not bad. Maybe over time it will be possible to get into the sales department or the design department, at least as a junior engineer. And then I will justify the hopes of my father.

A warm smile appeared on his face at the thought of his father. Daddy, daddy, daddy. Once a strict colonel of tank troops, today he was a peaceful pensioner living in a small village on the outskirts of the region and breeding greenhouse plants. Very early we were left without a mother. I almost didn't remember her. One September afternoon, severe pneumonia took her away. For dad, I became an outlet and he gave all his unspent love to me. So he never married again. Therefore, when at the age of seventeen I announced to my father that I was leaving for a regional center in order to receive higher education, he did not want to let me go for a long time. But after much persuasion, he agreed. I often came for the weekend, which he was unspeakably happy about. But after I met Dima, she began to come less often. And even only because of this, dad did not like Dimka, believing that this "mutt," as his father called him, takes his daughter away from him. This dislike was mutual, so Dimka most often did not support my initiative to go to my father together, and I had to go alone on the chaise longue.

I stepped away from the closet and turned to the mirror. Looking at myself, she could not imagine this brown-eyed girl in the position of a secretary in a large company. My short stature of 55 meters and pretty cheeks with dimples gave me a childish look. Brown hair hung in curls below her shoulder blades. For a long time I fought with hair. What I just didn’t do with them in the hope of straightening them: and pulled them with an iron, and did keratin straightening. But the hair did not give in and one day I just reconciled. I tried to collect my hair in a ponytail or spikelet. And on Monday I decided that I would collect my hair in a strict bun.

Immediately after preparing the clothes, I collected all the documents confirming my qualifications in a folder. Both diplomas, a certificate with a gold medal, certificates from courses teaching how to work in various drawing programs and 1C, a resume, but something suggested that no one would even look at all this stuff. The appearance and patronage of the head of personnel will play a more important role.

Well, Mr. Nevsky, see you soon.

Monday morning greeted me with a bright winter sun. I took Dimka to work and, having received a wish of good luck, went to get ready for an interview. An invigorating shower, light makeup, a classic suit and a high bun on my head gave me a businesslike look. Today I decided to abandon my usual black-rimmed glasses and put on lenses. Looking in the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. I looked at my watch and decided to hurry, it's already nine, but I still need to get to the place. By bus it takes about half an hour. There will be time left to orientate yourself on the ground. I quickly threw on a winter coat that had seen the best of times, tied a scarf around my head and, grabbing a bag with documents, hurried to the bus stop. In suede boots and thin stockings it turned out to be cold. Probably should have taken a taxi but the strict economy in order to save money for the wedding forced him to abandon this action. And finally, a bus arrived, promising to warm me up and take me to my destination.

But, alas, the winter weather is so insidious that minus seventeen degrees, unusual for our area in November, did their job. The bus stalled. For a while I hoped for a miracle, but the driver was never able to start the vehicle again. On the speakerphone, he announced this sad news, asking him to vacate the salon. My God, why today? Grabbing my bag, I hurried to the next stop. Needless to say, high heels are not designed for running between public transport stops? I hobbled over in ten minutes. Fortunately for me, the next bus pulled up almost immediately. However, I was catastrophically late. I flew into the checkpoints of the plant management like a hurricane at five minutes to ten. The guard at the counter looked up at me from the newspaper.

- I'm at an interview. she exhaled, taking off her scarf and coat as she went.

- Name the vacancy, please, and your last name. - the guard rustled with papers, as I understood temporary passes.

- I'm applying for the position of Secretary General. Belova. Belova Victoria.

The guard gave me another assessing look and began sorting through the passes. I was even a little worried that my name might not be there.

- Yeah, I found it. – said the man, and I breathed a sigh of relief. - Straight and left. There's an elevator. You are on the fifth floor. An office with the inscription: "Reception of the General Director."

-Thanks! - rushing towards the elevator, already on the move, thanked the guard.

The reception area was filled with people. Mostly girls, but also young people, nervously fiddling with their resumes, also met. I noticed a woman in her fifties getting up from the couch. The lady walked confidently towards me.

- Victoria? the woman asked.

- Yes. Are you Larisa Ivanovna? - as far as I understood, the woman turned out to be the very friend of Dimka's mother who invited me for an interview.

-Yes that's right. She nodded and looked at her tablet. - You were late and I let Kozyrina pass instead of you. You will go next. Sit down in my place.

- Are all these people also for an interview for the position of secretary? I asked hoping for a negative answer.

- Of course. The position is more than good. A great start for young professionals. In this waiting room you see the most promising ... - Larisa Ivanovna leaned over to my ear - ... the children of the leaders and top managers of this enterprise. And winking, she smiled.

I sat down in the place indicated by Larisa Ivanovna and slowly began to examine those present. All the girls were young beauties, mostly blondes, dressed in designer clothes. She smiled at her own thoughts about what a cliché it was - a long-legged blonde in a short skirt serving coffee to the director. I, in my suit from the mass market, did not fit into the overall picture at all. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the opening door to the principal's office. A second later, I saw a blond girl of about twenty come out of the office with an unnaturally red face and tears in her eyes. The girl, grabbing her bag and fur coat, without looking back, headed for the exit.

- I'm deleting Kozyrin. - I heard the voice of Larisa Ivanovna above my head. - Belova. Forward.

She quickly got up from the sofa. She pulled down her skirt and grabbed a folder with her documents, with a decisive step she headed towards the director's office. Finally, she looked back at the head of the personnel department. She gave me a reassuring nod, urging me to calm down.

The office of the general director was made in light beige tones. The heavy oak table, at which I found the gray-haired man, was located at the very window, from which the view opened on the production workshops of the plant.

How long do you plan to stay there? Time is money darling! - Nevsky's voice brought me to my senses.