The bag was left in the office. Blinking in confusion, she quickly walked towards the building. Fortunately, on that day, Baba Liza served as night watchmen of the hostel. It was luck of luck. She knocked on the door and waited for her to open it.

- Elizaveta Petrovna, dear, help! she whispered, folding her hands in supplication.

- What happened? she asked, looking around. She stepped aside to let me in.

Taking a breath, I realized that there was no need to talk too much. Such impulses can be costly.

- I... it seems... I lost the key to the cell... - For employees, in addition to the opportunity to spend the night in the club for free, they also provided a small cell for personal belongings, which many used.

- Oh, you ... frightened at night looking. Yes, you have no face! Is it possible to be so nervous because of such nonsense? Baba Liza reached for her dressing gown. - Come on, I'll give you a spare. And tomorrow you will make a copy. Delov something! Do you remember the number?

- Of course. - Dutifully followed her, rejoicing that she managed to get out. The heart continued to beat dull and heavy, pumping the raging adrenaline in the blood.

When she got to her cell, she was glad, having fished out a T-shirt with shorts from it. In the corridor I ran into Kira.

- O! Where are you! And I'm looking for you - I can not find. - She leaned over and whispered in her ear: - Do you happen to have a pad with you?

- By chance there is. - Remembering her supplies, she turned back to the lockers.

Then I washed myself for a long time in the common shower room. She rubbed her body and shuddered at the memory. "That's stupid! What a fool I am!” - I reproached myself and could not stop. And even lying down in bed, she continued to mentally swear and moan because of what had happened.

Here, perhaps, it is necessary to explain a little.

There was an office romance in my life, after which I once and for all vowed to start a relationship at work. Went to the top and was thrown into hell. The consequences of that love destroyed my whole life, and therefore I always avoided even flirting. But more about that later.

That night, I asked myself a thousand times the question: “What should I do now?”, but I could not find the answer. The fact that everything will not be the same as before - and a no brainer. It just doesn't make it any easier. Quit? Pretend like nothing happened? talk? Explain? Phew... easier said than done. It was terribly scary. How to look Mark Yanovich in the eye? And he?! With what joy did it all happen? Nice guy. Came with a gift and did not forget about the condom. Wonderful. Self-esteem slowly crept down. Do I get that impression?

She fell asleep with a heavy heart, and when she got up and went to wash herself, she froze in front of the mirror. There are two bright bruises on the neck and three more smaller ones.

In general, I rarely sweat, only in extreme cases, so to speak. So that morning I even remembered the words that I once heard from a taxi driver of Caucasian nationality, which he shouted out the window of a car that cut us at full speed.

Shouting silently and croaking with anger over the washbasin, she washed herself with cold water, and, covering her neck with her hair, went to change clothes.

To the restaurant "Milan" was, as if on the chopping block. Kira was in no hurry to go to work, as there was still time, and therefore she remained to restore beauty, that is, to do makeup in field conditions, sitting on the windowsill of the common room. I wanted to get to my office as soon as possible to solve the problem with hickeys. The fact that the powder will help little and only emphasize them - I knew from practice. The girls from the beauty salon could help out, but their working day began at twelve, and until that time they had to somehow hold out.

Opening the closet door, she froze. In the middle of the table lay a condom in a damaged package. The heart skipped a beat.

With trembling hands, she took her bag out of the corner and found the phone. She recruited Yulia Texas - Roman's deputy administrator.

Julie, hi. Are you no longer at work? - Having heard an affirmative answer, she asked: - Can you help out for today? You need a scarf around your neck. Already going.

Before leaving, partly with anger and with a degree of contempt and embarrassment, she shoved a shiny square into the compartment of the bag, where she pushed various nonsense to throw away - coupons, candy or chewing gum wrappers, napkins and so on. Well, I didn’t have to throw it into an empty trash can?! It was still not enough for someone to see “it”!

She walked towards Yulia, holding her hair. She, seeing me from afar, went towards me.

- And why do you need a bandana, if not a secret? Hi.

- Hi. She got a cold. Pulls.

- What color are you? - held out two - brown and black.

- Let's get this one. Though not so in the eye, it will be evident. Thanks Yul. Helped out. And then I don’t have a scarf or a scarf with me. In the meantime, all of our people will come - I will walk with my head on my shoulder.

- Come on, what nonsense. Would you put something on...

- The pharmacy will open - I will buy the gel. Thank you! - went back.

Already standing in front of the mirror in the toilet, I realized that a scarf would not help me much. Yes, it covered the main part of the bruises, but it still looked decent. On second thought, she slipped a strand of hair inside, between her neck and the cowboy bandana. The fact that I looked, to put it mildly, unusual is a fact.

To begin with, according to the rules, hair must be collected in a ponytail, a bun, or in any other way, since we work in catering. Plus, they curl a little on me, which adds a frivolous look, and I'm the main administrator, after all. Seeing a slight surprise from her waitresses, she gave them the same version as Yulia.

For half a day, I twitched at every shadow, more precisely, every man in a suit passing by or entering a restaurant. No, of course, I understood with my mind that sooner or later Wolf and I would meet, but I didn’t want it to happen when there was such a mess in my soul that it was impossible to describe. Therefore, everything happened, as in that saying: “Waiting for death is worse than death itself.”

He did not come, no, but called me to his place. Through the secretary. Our suburban complex had its own radio communication for communication between employees. From hull to hull, given the scale, you can’t run. After listening to her and putting the radiotelephone on the bar, she sat down on a high chair, as panic poured over her in a hot wave, penetrating into her muscles and depriving her of strength.

A rare case, but at that moment I was very sorry that we did not have some kind of celebration - such as a wedding or an anniversary. So there would be an opportunity not to go, referring to employment. Well, or postpone your visit ...

I had to overcome myself, get up and head towards the main administrative building. And the closer I got to him, the more nauseated my soul became.

Entering the reception room, she asked the secretary, nodding at the door:

- Not busy? You called me five minutes ago.

- Not. He is waiting for you. - She pressed the button on the remote control that stood next to her and said: - Mark Yanovich, Alexandra Yanush is here for you.

- Invite. - I heard the answer.

- Come on in. - The girl allowed and continued to click the mouse, obviously playing solitaire on the computer.

Yeah. Waiting. From excitement, my hands began to pull. Exhaling, she opened the door and entered, stopping near the entrance. She met her direct gaze, feeling ready to pass out.

- Good afternoon. – Greeted with a hoarse voice. - You ... you called me?

- Called. - The director got up from the table and walked towards me, forcing me to take an involuntary step back. Came close. - Why did you run away? he asked in a low voice as if we had been in a close relationship for a long time and I suddenly did something stupid yesterday.

- I… me… Mark Yanovich, what happened yesterday… it… was a mistake. At work, this ... is not necessary ... I have rules that ... - Seeing how he raised his hand and reached for my face, she shuffled back, slightly knocking the back of her head against the wall. There was simply nowhere else to go. And so, with horror, as if in slow motion, she watched how he tugged a strand of hair with his fingers and pulled it out of the scarf. Then he pushed her away, exposing my neck.

It seemed that he was thinking about something of his own and did not listen to what I was saying at all. He had incredible dark blue eyes, which expressed a bewitching detachment. And also very beautiful hands with well-groomed nails and wide palms.

- Relationships at work ... taboo for me. Get it right. She was practically choking out the words, as his next gesture sent her into a panic. He ran his fingers lightly over the footprints he himself had left. “I probably drank a little more than I should have yesterday…and…and…lost…a little bit of my…self-control…but…we…we’re not children in a pub…puberty…and…and…”

Mark Yanovich bit his lower lip and slowly released it, then ran his tongue over it, which sent my endurance into a knockout, because he did it not defiantly, but involuntarily. Putting his hand on my neck, he touched my lips with his thumb.

- Can you hear me?! - broke, as fear spilled over the edge.

- I hear. - He answered calmly. I pressed a little with my finger. You have rules and you don't want to break them.

- Yes. She shook her head, freeing herself.

They are there to be broken. - He quoted all the well-known words, leaning over and clearly wanting to kiss. I unconsciously recoiled, stretching on my toes, and he stopped. - Why are you? – asked quietly.

"Don't, please... it... went too far yesterday... I... I... don't touch me." - She whined in response plaintively almost on his lips.

- Did you like it?

- Yes!

- You're lying ... '' he said barely audibly, breaking into my convulsive breath with a light breeze.

- Not!

The manager suddenly chuckled. So much so that I was doused with a prickly and hot wave. He didn't smile well. And it was not in his mutilated face. The burst of energy emanating from him was not hilarious.

- Do you want to play? asked in a whisper. - Well, let's play ... - He abruptly took two steps to the side and opened the door.

And then - do not believe it. I thought this only happens in movies. His secretary almost fell on him. She eavesdropped and by inertia began to fall forward, but was picked up in time.

- Alexandra Anatolyevna, get back to work. - As if nothing had happened, ordered, barely looking. But he held his assistant tightly above the elbow, not controlling his strength, as the girl grimaced in pain trying to free herself.

- A-a-s-s... sorry, this is no longer...

Without waiting for a second order, I quickly went out and rushed to my place, holding my hair with my hand and covering the bruises ...

The next day I found out that the boss had a new secretary.

For several days after our conversation, she was in complete prostration, overcoming a brainstorm. I wrote a letter of resignation of my own free will, without putting down a date, and put it on my desk. I have updated my CV file, but have not yet submitted it to job search sites.

I really didn't want to quit. Few can afford a protruding contemptuously lower lip. Firstly, I started repairs at home, and the lion's share of earnings went there. Secondly, even with an airbag in the form of a two-room apartment, which I inherited and which I rented out to tenants, finding a job is a costly task for nerves and self-esteem. Well, and thirdly... the desire to see the director at least once in a while twisted his mind.

I didn't understand it right away. I have not seen him at all. Even from afar.