Revenge – served cold
Шрифт:
" Good morning, " I said hello to Andrew, entering his office.
Putting a cup of coffee on his desk and putting the documents in front of him, I froze. Andrew took a sip of coffee, hummed approvingly and looked at me.
" Do you remember what day it is today? " He asked glumly.
" Today is the board of directors, of course. The commercial director has already sent the report so you can read it in advance. It's in the top folder. The waiters will be here on time, they've already confirmed the order."
Maybe I should have told him it happened at five in the morning. Maybe he'd cheer up. The bosses were in a bad mood today, and I was afraid to say too much. In that mood, "You're fired" comes off quickly.
" Well, I hope it goes smoothly this time."
I didn't ask how it went last time. It's clear that he didn't like the result. Actually, it was not surprising. The director is young, and the deputies are old. I think there are those who think that they can cope with this position better.
Andrew leaned back in his chair, corrected his watch, unbuttoned the cuff, then buttoned it and took it off for some reason. It was obvious to the naked eye that he was worried.
" Can I get you some … chamomile tea?"
I corrected myself at the last second and didn't offer a sedative. It wouldn't hurt, though.
" No thanks," Andrew hissed, having managed to read the sedative between the lines.
" Can I go now?"
I wanted not only to leave, to run away from him. I don't know where that confident man who'd been going to work all week had gone. Today he's replaced by a nervous and twitchy boy.
" Yeah, yeah, go and check it out again."
As I left the office, I exhaled a sigh of relief. I didn't expect him to be so worried.
" So formidable, huh? " They asked me sympathetically.
I shuddered with surprise and looked at the early visitor. A short, short-haired brunette, dressed in a bag with fringe (it looked faintly like the fashionable boho style, more like a bag even with fabric), smiled sympathetically at me.
" Excuse me, do you have an appointment?"
I ignored her question. Now I had a much more important problem – how could I make an appointment for this day?
" Oh yes, we haven't met in person yet. I'm Mila. I'm so happy to meet you."
She smiled charmingly. My smile was not so happy, but rather artificial and glued.
" You're here too early," I enlightened her, fighting the urge to strangle her.
Thanks to her, I almost fell asleep on the subway, holding onto the handrail and leaning against the man standing next to me.
" Oh, of course! You and I have so much to prepare!"
I pulled my eyebrows together, not sure what she meant. To me, she had a simple task – to bring the waiters who would put the food on plates and set the table.
" I'll be glad to help you in any way I can," I informed her nonetheless.
" I believed in you, Rina! You are my bright angel! " Mila splashed her hands.
I had no other choice but to smile and unobtrusively lead her out of the waiting room. Andrew is not in the right frame of mind to face such a cheerful person like her. Even I was annoyed by her diminutive and affectionate suffixes, and he'd definitely freak out. And since I'm the closest employee he can reach, all the anger will fall on me.
Taking Mila to the room reserved for waiters, I showed her where the dishes, towels, and flutes were, and turned on the refrigerator. This room, not an employee dining room. It was for the service staff, who were constantly called to all the meetings and large meetings.
Leaving Mila to go through the plates "what if they are chipped and it will not be nice and unpleasant!", I returned to the reception room. I have a lot of work to do without Mila. First, I opened the windows in the conference room to check it out. I put the mineral water and the glasses rubbed to a shine in their places. I printed out six more copies of the report and organized them into special folders.
I don't know who invented this statute, but I carried the documents in a red folder for signing. If Andrew just needed to familiarize himself with something, then – in the black one. Invitations to exhibitions or receptions – in the green one. And the folders for the Board of Directors' report were dark purple.
Time flew by without a second thought, I didn't have time to close the windows before the participants began to gather.
The first to arrive in the conference hall were both of Andrew 's deputies. I had seen them only glimpses before, greeted them faithfully and never received a reply. They always looked at me only as furniture.
Both deputies were of advanced age, overweight and somewhat similar to each other. Mr. Druz was in principle constantly busy and talked on the phone. Nair Iosifovich Akhmadulin looked through everyone and looked down on them. Mr. Brow, as he was "affectionately" called on the sidelines of the company. I liked it because he was Dimitri's father-in-law.
When they came in, they immediately settled down in the armchairs. Tension hung in the air.
" Coffee," Mr. Brow demanded.
I smiled sweetly, waiting for him to continue. I didn't know what kind he drank. Maybe he liked it sugary and black or, on the contrary, without sugar but with cream?
" I'll just have a black one, and a lot more," asked Pyotr Ivanovich.
He looked away from his papers for a moment, gave me an indifferent glance, and then went back to his documents.
I had to go for coffee. "Hog" I made the same as Peter Ivanovich, only I put a couple of pieces of cane sugar on a saucer. After thinking about it, I put them around the cup.
While I was making coffee, new faces appeared in the conference room: two middle-aged men and a woman. When she saw the cup I put in front of Akhmadulin, she smiled sarcastically.