A month ago…

- Like? - the hoarse voice of Pavel Smolov, the general director of our pharmaceutical company, made it trembling.

The shirt is open, and the crazy attractive body is on display. The man lay on a bench, his hand behind his head, and looked at the stars. In his other hand was a bottle of whiskey. It’s about to fall, spinning, like in the game “The Bottle”, and pointing at me ...

How! Dreaming! So caught red-handed peeping!

But I couldn't pass up this sight! Any woman would at least slow down. There was something to see!

The whole company is aware that the boss is a sports fanatic. He gets up early for a run, exercises at home and even equipped a room with exercise equipment in the office. He doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, doesn't swear. Not a body, but a work of art.

"Drug addict, right? There must be something!” - the yard grandmas at the entrance would immediately put an end to the man, but there was not a single such old woman near the elite residential complex next to work. Therefore, Paul lived and did not know what a storm had passed by. But I didn't pass...

Before this cozy place, far from the eyes of vacationers, the sounds of music, fun and crazy festivities flew perfectly. There, three hundred meters from this garden alley, the fiftieth anniversary of our company is grandiosity celebrated. The chic mansion hospitably opened its doors for employees from the capital and regional offices, who were pretty tired from daytime sports, and a real branch of hell unfolded in the pretentious hall. There were too many devils in the cauldron instead of people, and I made my legs out of there. Who knew that I would face the real Lucifer here?

And they said - do not drink! Smolov just disguised himself well!

“Excuse me, I went out for a walk, and here you are ...” she said instead of being honest: “I like it! And how!". But, as always, she kept the truth to herself. I’ll look for another five seconds, imprint it in my head for all eternity and I’ll scroll it through lonely evenings, sighing languidly over a cup of tea.

"So you've been staring at me for like five minutes now?" - Smolov never took his eyes off the sky. And I envied that damn sky. Where do I go to the star canvas? Even up to the same office pomaded ladies?!

But am I really not even worth the drunken look of such a handsome man? One, no more! It is possible and not languid, casually.

I know that Smolov is interested in girls of model appearance. All his short-term passions are similar either to Barbie dolls or to the finalists of beauty contests. But hope, an infection, dies / dies last!

- I was looking to see if you were okay.

No, really! You never know that he is lying here ... Suddenly a person feels bad, and I will pass by?

What? Lying to myself? Well, yes, yes, okay! But Smolov, it seems, was worried about something else:

- And How? - and then Pavel turned and looked directly at me, and I nervously pulled down the skirt of a modest blue little dress, straightened my hair. When I got dressed and packed, I thought that I looked killer. But as soon as I entered the hall and looked around, they killed me. They pushed me into a corner with a breathtaking neckline, trampled underfoot with cut skirts up to the ears, planted on the thinnest stilettos of shoes.

“I’m fine,” she blurted out, and she thought to herself: “Well, I look normal, very good. Do not worry. And everything is in order with the hair, and with mascara: recently I saw it in the mirror of the restroom!

What to do if I love my skin and hate tons of cosmetics? My parents are theater actors, so I know perfectly well the price of paying for makeup. I love to rest my chin on my hand while sitting at the table and feel smooth skin, not a layer of plaster. I like to get up half an hour before leaving the house, wash my face, have breakfast, apply mascara to my eyelashes and jump into office clothes. Yes, I'm a little lazy. But my lips are pink, not pale blue under lipstick. I already do a daily feat with lenses! Who uses - will understand!

- Nothing normal! - suddenly Smolov jerked into a sitting position and with all his might launched a bottle into the paving stones. Shards of unhewn amber scattered in different directions, one struck me painfully on the leg, but I did not show it, pretty frightened by the change in mood of the boss. What is he?!

The man put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees, and fell silent.

- Something happened? After ten seconds of silence, I grew bolder and took a step forward. Compassionate nature pulled her little hands to pity the unfortunate one. Stopped a possible immediate dismissal ...

Silence in response. Did he fall asleep there?

I took a step closer. Another. More.

- Are you like that too? The unexpected question stuck my shoes to the ground better than The Moment.

- Which? - Afraid of being compared with another Miss Universe beauty, I thought: “Who brought the poor fellow like this? The case clearly smells like a woman!”

- Windy? - in one word so much is hidden: pain, despair, disgust and doubt. As if the boss doubted himself. Who said - would not believe!

Has he been thrown? Can't be! Pavel Smolov is known for his "three dates" reputation. And never again! No no! Was there really one that was able to reduce the joint time to two meetings and give a turn from the gate?

I want to look at this one!

I remembered the moment when I first saw Pavel Smolov ...

On the street next to the building of our company there are restaurants, the street zone of which has settled directly on the wide window sills of the building. Visitors sat in window niches on soft cushions instead of chairs, and rare tables were assigned to the most dear guests. Foreigners and simply wealthy Muscovites often visited here, and poor girls with great ambitions spun back and forth in the hope of picking up “security” for themselves for life. I walked past, trying to pass this zone as quickly as possible, but I crashed into a wall of girls who “stand up”: their eyes are burning predatory, their necks are stretched out, one way.

Here I was disassembled by interest: I turned to look at what had brought the girls into such combat readiness. Everything turned out to be banal: a low Audi R8 was pushing in a traffic jam along a one-way street, at the risk of hooking all the young ladies on board at once. The bright head of a man flashed through the open window, glasses on his nose. With that, my interest faded, and I, muttering “Excuse me”, pushed my way through the crowd of hunters for other people's treasures.

And what was my surprise when the same expensive car parked in front of the building of our company, where I recently got a job. The driver's door closed silently, and Smolov passed by without even noticing my existence ...

And they left this with a nose? No, I definitely want to see this outstanding personality!

She carefully sat down on the edge of the bench, away from the man, and gently asked:

- Have you been abandoned?

“Betrayed,” Pavel corrected, without raising his drooping head. - And I believed to the last like a fool that there was another reason. Looking for her all these years, like a faithful dog.

Wow! So it's an old story!

Pavel shook his bright head and leaned back on the bench. I tried to look away from his body. I tried badly, badly. Two with a minus, but also into the abyss! When will I look again?

God! Even though the boss was drunk as hell, he remained as sexy as in the office, when he was polished to a shine in a custom-made suit. I could not take my eyes off Pavel Smolov, his vibes literally captivated me, although I usually turned back from drunks. That is why I left the hall as soon as my colleagues drank half a liter of courage, ate a herring of irresistibility and a gherkin of recklessness.

- Treason? - I threw the bait, wondering who has such power over a man. Probably a fatal beauty! Or a charming actress with a bunch of fans...

Pavel slowly turned to me, focused his vague gaze and opened his mouth to immediately close it, as if in doubt: to speak or not?

Goddess of justice, why does a man need such eyelashes?

- Do you have children? he tossed his head.

That was unexpected! No question - a real hook and I feel like I'm losing my footing and getting confused.

“N… no,” she stammered, gradually coming to her senses. I'm still too young, only twenty-five! Do I look older? Only two years since I graduated from the university, I have been working - I haven’t breathed the air of freedom yet!

If you have children, never leave them. Promise! - Smolov suddenly grabbed my hands and squeezed them to the point of pain. He demanded, as if he was collecting debts: - Promise me!

Huge palms completely covered my brushes. I have never seen such attractive knuckles in anyone. Hell, even they are perfect!

But what am I thinking? The boss pours out his soul here, and I?

The pain in the man's eyes gushed with light even in the prevailing semi-darkness, reaching even to my heart. Everything in my chest tightened. What happened to him? I've never seen a boss like this! Always cold, unapproachable, aloof. Inaccessible as a god! A famed titan who makes money out of thin air. And suddenly such humanity, openness…

It was necessary to see what kind of whiskey Smolov drank! And take the name into service!

“I promise,” I had to raise my voice and repeat it twice for Pavel to hear. The grip on his hands weakened, and then suddenly intensified threefold.

- You promised! Blue eyes narrowed, a storm warning flashing in them. - Remember and do not break!

Pavel was so close that the girl's heart could not stand it - it broke into the frantic rhythm of the drums. The strict features of the man's face were fascinating: straight eyebrows, a nose without the slightest hump, an even line of lips, high cheekbones and a square chin. Thick eyelashes set off bright eyes, making the man's gaze tempting, like a snake in the Garden of Eden. Huge hands, like a stove, warmed my eternally cold ones.

“A finch,” the boss suddenly said and rubbed my fingers.

All! You wear it!

What did he ask for? Do not break an oath? Yes, now I’ll sign a donation for an apartment! It’s a pity, I don’t have property: I live with my parents, I’m going to move out to a rented one, but I won’t give it away either. What a pity…

“Good,” she nodded and, with the power of an unrealistic will, tried to get freedom, feeling that I was in extreme danger - another minute and it would be gone: the hormones would hit the brain and the cap would be torn off. And Smolov is drunk, so either he will roughly throw me away, or he will use me for one night, and then he won’t remember. And I suffer! Well, I do not! I have seen enough dramas in parent performances, I want romance. In extreme cases - a melodrama with a good ending, and nothing else!

Pavel slowly lowered his hands down, without opening them, holding them more on the machine than at will. The man's gaze became exhausted and tired, his broad shoulders drooped, and then suddenly:

- You're bleeding...