Chapter 6

Are you running, beautiful? Uh, that's not going to work! So that Zima's wife would get scared and leave, because the one whom she does not want to see appeared in the evening? This will not happen. The man leaned over to Olga's ear and asked in an undertone:

- If you choose what will leave now, who would you choose?

Pause. Long pause.

- Her.

- Well, then stay. Why do you have to ruin your evening because of someone?

How easy and simple it is! Olga thought seriously. In general, he is right. She hasn’t been that girl for a long time, but she’s still so afraid that her hamstrings are shaking. Indeed, why should she leave? It's just a coincidence.

Mothers are just as uncomfortable. Perhaps even more. It's not easy to face the past. You think that everything is long buried and forgotten, but no. Here it is, living and unharmed evidence of your crime, standing in front of you and looking at you.

If she pleases, let her get out of this celebration of life herself, so as not to see her prodigal daughter. Or let him keep his face to the end, pretending that nothing is happening.

– How much longer? she only asked, and the husband realized that she was staying.

Good girl. Correctly.

- Now there will be a charity auction. Look!

He pointed to a girl who was walking around with a tray, collecting items that the ladies were willing to donate, and signing each one. Popov approached them and asked:

- Will you participate?

She thought that he was poking her, but it turned out that the question was addressed to Zimin, as if Olga did not make any decisions here at all. She would have flared up, even mentally, but now it was just going in the background. Eyes, without looking up, followed the mother, who continued to remove the beau monde as if nothing had happened.

“Perhaps I will,” Miroslav decided. - Ol, give something to participate.

- What? she wondered.

- Yes, whatever. The value doesn't matter.

The woman pulled one of the gilded hairpins with a coin out of her hair and put it on a tray, attaching it to a pile of donations. The girl wrote down her name and attached a sticker to the hairpin. She moved away with the "prey" and moved to intercept the next couple. Participant numbers were not issued. Of course, this is not a real auction, as in the auction house.

A familiar face flashed through the crowd, and now Miroslav tensed up. Egor Kuzin! Himself. Appeared, not dusty. It was the same colleague from whom Stas blew his master's money. They implicitly competed with Zimin. That is, they did not enter into a confrontation, but the spheres of activity intersected. Before the war did not come, but some tension was always present, and Zimin unnecessarily did not want to aggravate relations.

“Kuzya, ... la,” Popov hissed. - Drawn.

- Yeah.

Now the game: who will say hello first. Zimin met Kuzin's eyes and nodded to him, saluting with a tall glass of mineral water. He smiled and waved, but Miroslav did not believe in the sincerity of his smiles. If the opportunity presents itself, he will bury a competitor and not wince. In the last set-up with searches, Zimin seemed to have a trace of an enemy.

He also didn't like the way that m…k looked at his wife. Comes closer. Probably decided to ask what and how.

“Good evening,” the man smiled broadly.

Olga immediately did not like this athletic, polished type of forty years old. He walked from top to bottom with greasy eyes, and she seemed to plunge into the mud. Raising an eyebrow, the woman gave him an icy look.

All of myself! A Breguet watch on her wrist, an expensively tailored black tuxedo and boots, diamond cufflinks, a tan from a tanning bed, gel-slicked back hair and a mustache, combined with an unnatural Hollywood smile, created an unpleasant impression. He probably inserted his teeth on the first wave of imported dentistry. It is immediately clear that they are not their own. Self-confident, even too. He considers himself the master of the world.

“Good, if you’re not joking,” Pop answered.

He never really hid his dislike.

“Greetings,” Zimin said and threw a warning glance at the deputy so as not to rush.

Olga was silent.

- And who is this beautiful one? - Ignoring the cold reception, the stranger continued.

- We have? she said. - Slav, who is this?

The smile disappeared from the stranger's face. What's so amazing about that? Should everyone know it? She has lived perfectly until now without this knowledge and will live for many more years.

Olga, meet me. This is Yegor Mikhailovich Kuzin, - the husband finally voiced. - Egor, this is my wife, Olga Borisovna.

He did not say that her last name is different. Let him dig the earth with his nose, it's good for him. In general, he suddenly thought about how he would introduce Olga to his entourage. Explain now to everyone you meet, transverse, that she is not Zimina?

“Very nice,” Kuzin grinned carnivorously.

Olga nodded regally and silently turned away, watching the preparations for the auction. She didn’t say “mutually” - she didn’t lie to herself and others. There was nothing pleasant for her in this acquaintance. It was at work that she held her own; smile and be kind. Here is another matter. In addition, for obvious reasons, she was not in the mood today and did not want to make small talk.

Kuzin looked like a businessman, but from a mile away he carried the echoes of a criminal past. Or even not the past, but the present.

- Do you participate? Kuzin asked.

“Yes,” Miroslav replied. - And you?

- And today I am without a woman.

It's clear. Again he beat another bookie girl like a pear and now he is looking for a new victim, who will give flowers, kiss hands and put black eyes.

- You seemed to want to marry a singer.

- Lost desire.

That's the whole conversation.

The organizer walked around the impromptu stage at the place of the ring, from where the ropes were removed and ladders were placed so that one could go up and down. He blew into the microphone and said:

Dear guests of our evening! Let's move on to the most interesting part of our event!!!

People began to turn around and come closer to the leader. The conversations gradually subsided.

“Now, before your eyes, a real battle will break out for the right to own the trophies that our beautiful ladies donated,” continued the imposing man on the stage. - I will ask the participants, when the lot is called, to go up on stage.

Well-dressed women were talking excitedly with their companions.

- Slav, you didn't say that you would have to go out!

"It won't be long," he reassured.

Okay, she's used to standing in front of everyone. Do not count how many press conferences she held. But in general it was unpleasant that Zimin set her up like that. They did not agree that they would have to stand in front of the crowd while the participants were bidding for the lot.

The organizer started calling the women one by one. Some behaved with dignity, others lost themselves on the stage and giggled stupidly. For individual lots, a serious struggle flared up. Olga's eyes widened when more than two hundred thousand were sold for a scarf, the price of which was red, and after a stubborn struggle with a step of two thousand, the prize went to the winner, whom the young woman kissed in the end. Other trades were fast and boring. The total amount of fees did not exceed twenty or thirty thousand.

On the whole, however, the evening bore fruit. If Olga calculated correctly, then the profit from the charity auction was already approaching a million. Not bad! Especially if all this goes to sports, and does not end up in the pockets of the organizers of the evening.

- Olga Borisovna Letkova.

She flinched when she heard her name.

- Well! Zimin squeezed her elbow lightly. - Go, it's your turn.

And again it stung when he heard her maiden name. Annoyance came to replace him when he saw that Kuzin began to smile, having made some far-reaching conclusions of his own.

He fell in love. Olga walked forward as if she were swimming, spreading a soft glow around her. He puts his legs in a line, his back is straight, he carries his head proudly. She herself is tall, stately, similar to ... Miroslav did not know who, but for a moment he felt satisfied that this woman was his. Everything from head to toe. And the ring on my finger is proof of that.

Olga, slightly picking up the hem so as not to interfere, took a couple of steps up the ladder and climbed onto the stage. There they put the ill-fated hairpin into her hands and asked her to lift it higher so that everyone could see. Although from a distance it’s still impossible to make out anything.

- So, lot number thirty-three! Golden hairpin from the shores of the Aegean!!! - announced the leader.

- What kind of sea? Pop asked suspiciously.

“Aegean,” Zimin repeated. - This is where Greece and Crete are.

- Ah, got it.

Where are the gays, in short. According to the deputy, they belong there, and it was not for nothing that this dirty trick came from there. Kuzmin laughed when he heard their conversation, and Pop finally felt like a redneck. After that, hatred of the competitor only intensified.

Olga wanted to correct the orga that the hairpin was not gold, but gilded, but did not. Who cares! All that was left was to maintain a calm and slightly arrogant air, staring into nowhere. However, the gaze invariably rested on the elderly woman in the crowd. She didn't stop taking pictures.

- So, we begin. Two thousand times, two!

Zimin raised his hand.

Two thousand times, two...

Before the host had time to say “three,” Popov joined the game. Looks like the men are having fun.

- Four thousand! the leader was excited. - One, two...

Suddenly Kuzin's hand shot up.

- Six thousand participants ...

“Fifty,” Zimin said loudly enough to be heard and raised his thumb.

- Received. Fifty times, fifty two...

"Sixty," Kuzin was frankly amused.

Sixty times, sixty...

“A hundred thousand,” Zimin raised the bar again.

The entertainment turned out great. He hasn't had this much fun in a long time. It was better only when he let off steam in the ring. Olga stood neither alive nor dead and waited for how it would all end. It looks like the men were competing to see who had the best balls.

- One hundred and ten, - without waiting for a signal from the leader, the opponent responded.

“A hundred and twenty,” Pop decided to chime in to dilute it.

He guessed that the guys would fight to the last, and he would get nothing - and he didn’t need to - on ... did he give up this hairpin? But in any case, I got away m ... ka.

“A hundred and thirty,” Zimin interrupted the bet lazily, clapping the deputy on the shoulder.

Where did you go, please? He flashed a golden tooth and lowered his cunning eyes. I'm not me, the mare is not mine.

- One hundred and thirty times, one hundred and thirty two ...

- One hundred and forty! - put Kuzin.

“Yegor, you’re not a gambler,” Zimin was surprised and added louder: “A hundred and fifty!”

- One hundred and fifty times, one hundred and fifty two ...

- One hundred and sixty! A competitor raised his hand. - Became gambling tonight.

Gradually brought rates up to three hundred thousand. Yes, it's already boring. The entertainment dragged on. It's time to end this circus. Have fun and that's enough. Miroslav raised his hand:

- A million.

***

Olga did not remember how she left the podium. Husband helped. He went up to the stage to receive his prize, and victoriously lifted this unfortunate hairpin upstairs. The org immediately jumped up in congratulations and announced the end of the auction, thanking all the bidders for their generous donations. Turns out they were the last ones on the list. Some cherry on the cake.

Went down. All participants in the auction had a close conversation with the organizers to discuss payment methods and clarify accounts for transferring funds. Zimin simply left his attorney's business card to deal with him. Called back only to warn that I need to donate a million to charity.

Taxes are still being written off. Good!

- Something is missing.

Olga looked questioningly at her husband. He leaned over, hugged her and kissed her briefly on closed lips. There was no passion in this kiss, only belonging. Zimin wanted to celebrate her and show everyone that she was his woman.

- It's obvious, newlyweds.

Kuzin said it. These words sounded poorly concealed envy and surprise. Olga wanted to recoil, but her husband did not let her, pressed her hand to her. By the way, they were photographed again. For some reason it didn't matter now. Adrenaline subsided, but still played in the blood.

- Go? she asked.

"Good," agreed Zimin.

“Unfortunately, we are forced to leave you,” the woman said kindly, although she did not regret it in the least.

"It's a pity, a pity," Kuzin smiled. - It's a pity.

She didn't hold out her hand for a farewell kiss. It seemed to Olga that she would turn out of disgust if this man touched her. Her intuition rarely deceived her. This is a terrible person. The further she is from him, the better.

***

In the hall they waited until Olga got her jacket and got dressed.

- Where to now? To a pub? Pop asked impatiently.

“Yeah,” agreed Zimin and, turning to Olga, asked: “What are you going to do?”

Do you know a good fish restaurant?

- How not to know!

I was dying for shrimp and mussels. Grebeshkov, probably, too. He will feed her, and she will, so be it, forgive him for this farce with a hairpin. By the way, she already stuck it back in her hair.

“I wish I had a little more time,” Pop said wistfully, who again had a normal dinner.

He did not like fish from a distant, almost forgotten Soviet childhood, as well as fish oil. We were all once children. Even those who later became criminals. Someone gave birth to them, played with them, loved ...

- Not a question, - Zimin came to a compromise solution. - In Zelda.

There are no pretentious mini-portions and exorbitant prices. The audience is quite democratic. Come, sit, watch a sports match and enjoy a huge portion, which is enough for two. Both fish and meat were well cooked there.

By horses! Everyone got into their cars, and the cavalcade set off again.

***

We arrived and settled down. Fortunately, today is still Thursday, and the hall is not packed to capacity. There were seats, and near the kitchen. People don't like it, but Olga liked to watch how they work behind the transparent door and the chef's counter.

Seeing serious people, the waitress immediately jumped up and took the order. Probably hoping for a generous tip. No wonder I hoped. Ordered the best on the menu. Meat, sea reptiles. Only drinks did not. Everyone was driving. The guys will have to drive the cars away later. No.

In addition, Pop still preferred not wine, but “white”. Miroslav, in turn, did not want to spoil his night with alcohol. He won’t get up at the right moment and ... In short, here either for the women, or to eat vodka, there is no middle ground. Or wine - one horseradish.

The guys from the escort sat at the next table and were also going to have dinner. Zimin approved. Nothing foretold. Calm, everything is peaceful.

Olga went to wash her hands and again looked at herself in the mirror. It seems that nothing has changed. It looks the same as before, but there is a strange certainty. Lips do not tremble, eyes do not run, eyebrows do not frown.

This time she didn't run away like a hare chased by a pack of wolves. She met with the past face to face and emerged from this duel the winner. Nothing complicated, it turns out, was not. Just stay where you are and go about your business, ignoring the nasty people. Thanks to her man for this lesson.

You can't be cowardly all the time and hide your head in the sand. You have to be brave to look people in the eye. She has nothing to be ashamed of.

She returned to the hall. As she walked, she caught the interested glances of visitors. Still would! Not every day you see such a gorgeous woman in an evening dress in a modest restaurant. She sat down at the table.

Already brought mineral water and snacks. Cold cuts for the men, and a caprese salad of tomatoes and mozzarella with green salsa and balsamic for her. A lone olive tree crouched nearby, which she drove around the plate, but did not eat.

When a huge deep plate of mussels in cream was placed in front of Olga, she mentally licked her lips like a cat and almost folded her hands in prayer. Food of the gods!!! With a glass of white wine - in general! When I saw it on the menu along with the photo, I couldn't resist. And it is supposed to eat without any spoons and forks. You just take the shell and wield it like tweezers, removing the mussels one by one from the valves.

- What is it with you, Olga Boris-na? Pop asked.

Just Olga.

She thought that Miroslav had rather friendly relations with the deputy, so that she could keep her distance, like a lady. She's been here for a week, and the men don't know how long they've been together.

The woman showed Popov how to get shellfish. He tried it and found it to be good. It is quite suitable as an appetizer for foam, no worse than crayfish. So I immediately ordered myself to take out the same thing, but three times more.

“Just heat it up in the microwave,” Olga advised. - Cold ones are not so tasty.

She did not say that fresh is best. And she, most likely, will not even touch the cooled ones. She had this feature. I didn't like warm food, only freshly cooked. And since childhood. She grew up where only fresh food was always served on the table.

And again I thought about the bad. Then she pushed the bad thoughts out of her head and continued to destroy the mussels. The peasants finished off their meat and ribs, and everyone got ready to go home.

- Where are we now? Olga asked.

Again I wanted to ask: "To you or to me." But she didn't. Waiting for my husband to say.

And he had this headache for the second week. The contractor still could not hand over the apartment on time. I bought "walls" in an elite residential complex, because I decided to do everything there for myself. Starting with finishing and ending with plumbing and kitchen. Zimin was used to being known and feared, but he managed to run into a construction company that either dragged on time, or demanded extra payment, or something else ... But the deadlines were inevitably delayed.

In short, they did not have time for the wedding. The apartment is still in progress. And that “kopeck piece” and other unlit huts where he usually lodged were not suitable for romantic meetings.

On the other hand... To her? Surely at the apartment she met with her boyfriend. Also no. Miroslav for some reason did not want to have sex with her on the same bed. I knew that she had men, I knew. But he did not want to think about it in the process.

- To the rooms! he chuckled. - Let it be for now.

- Why? she wondered.

“Repair,” the man muttered.

- BUT!

She nodded. This is the reason, she understands this. And he suddenly realizes that they don’t have any guest marriage, but a very concrete, real one. Sooner or later, the repair will end, and the question of moving will come up. And she, like a cat, is attached to the place and does not want to move anywhere. It will be difficult to agree.

But it doesn't matter, so far it doesn't matter ... Today there is only he and she.

And a hotel room.

And his hands and lips.

***

- As you want? she asked.

For some reason she wanted to know what he liked and preferred. They sat on the bed. Zimin was just struggling with the lacing, but only tightened the knot even more and cursed in an undertone. Olga gasped. The slippery silk did not break, but she realized that it was like a tangle in her hair. Just cut! Otherwise, do not get out of the dress.

He is already half naked. Her shirt is unbuttoned, and there are gold marks from her lipstick on her chest. He lowered his trousers, but did not manage to throw them off yet. Hmm ... He will get a flick knife, then he will cut it, and then she will drink all his blood for his dress. He knows these women. We must then ask the maid to unravel the knot.

- How? he thought, and for a moment gave up fighting the dress.

Specifically now? Or even? Well, she asked a question.

- Turn over.

- What? Olga was surprised.

He, without waiting for consent, put his hand under her stomach and turned it over, so that the ass, hidden by the dress, was very close. Olga just groaned and leaned on her elbows, feeling her helplessness and languor. There was not enough air. She panted heavily and barely held back a groan when the man began to lift up her skirts.

"That's it," he said, reaching for his panties and pulling them down.

- Glory!

She arched over, not sure if she liked it or not, and she felt him open her and caress her with his fingers, but he himself was in no hurry to enter. He simply leaned back and grabbed her breasts, already compressed by the silk of the dress. He hesitated, continuing to caress and undead, watching the woman move towards him, losing her composure. And then he lightly pressed her hand on her back, forcing her to bend in the lower back, and drove his penis.

She was silk, inside and out. She was gold and fire. He wanted to fuck her forever. And how she moaned, unable to restrain herself, with every push! Hot girl.

Olga! His Olga.

She suddenly felt that his movements became more frequent, piercing to the limit, and he no longer held back, mastering her.

- Glory! Oh-oh...

He slowed down and fell on her, kissing between her shoulder blades. The lacing got in the way, but she understood what he had just done. She tried to turn around, but he pinned her against the sheets. He got up so as not to press, stood up straight, tightly grabbed her by the hips and continued the sweet torture.

And when he pierced for the last time, both sailed away to nowhere.

***

Then they lay side by side and looked at each other. Olga stroked the man's face, touched his lips, and suddenly laughed softly.

How are we going to take off the dress?

- Call the maid.

“I don’t have the strength to get up,” she snorted, crawled closer and buried herself in his chest.

He never fully undressed. Didn't endure. Now, either hand over all things for cleaning, or go so rumpled early in the morning. And everyone will know what they were doing here. Let them envy.

Olga kissed Miroslav on the chest, rose higher and, reaching her hard lips, hesitated. Let him, his turn. He looked thoughtfully and returned the kiss. Then he grabbed her and pulled her to him.

- Okay, sleep. Or how? - he asked.

- Or how. But later.

It was a pity to waste time when he was around. But you need to come to your senses a little.

Olga leaned back and looked up. Mom dear! Yes, there is a mirrored ceiling. Stretch, but it's like foil, and you can see a blurry reflection. And the backdrop at the head of the bed is also shiny. That's how he wanted! Seeing everything while having sex with her, right?

She seems to have solved this puzzle.

But I never got the real answer.