Revenge – served cold
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At the airport we were met by a decent car, not a minibus. Mr. Roberts , who slept the whole flight and sobered up, managed to get to it by himself. So we didn't have to drag anyone, which only added points to the already high mood.
So, having checked in without any problems, I took the conference program from the reception, registered Andrew as a participant and myself as a secretary, and with a sense of accomplishment went to my room.
The organizers chose a decent hotel. The room was made in a pleasant blue color, which the owner of the hotel killed two birds with one stone – it was not too bright and looked decent. After taking a shower, I realized that I didn't want to sleep at all, as well as to sit in the room.
Life had suddenly taken an unexpected turn. A month ago I was a simple English tutor. A month later, I was a woman who'd been dumped.
And now… I wanted to open the window and shout all over Peter how happy I was.
I didn't shout out the window, of course. But I changed into a quite decent dark purple dress with a smell, put on stilettos and went down to the bar. After all, the workday was over, and I could afford a martini or a margarita. As I walked downstairs, I couldn't decide what I really wanted. So I decided to have both.
Having settled down at the bar, I made an order and turned to the TV, which was showing some foreign music videos. The blonde singer managed to sing something, while dancing in boots, on a huge platform and no less high heels, and in iron underpants. I wonder if she rubbed anything on herself.
" Don't you like her? " the bartender suddenly inquired.
" Honestly, it's the first time I've seen her," I said, embarrassed.
The bartender was a pretty good-looking guy. He had gray eyes, dark blond hair pulled back in a short, disheveled ponytail over shaved temples. And that's okay, but he even looked younger.
" Really? " He was genuinely surprised. " She's been on every channel lately. I even got it."
" So I guess I'm lucky," I laughed. Sneakingly reading the nametag, I should have done it right away.
" And how lucky," Denis assured me. " You'd better come tomorrow. We'll have a local rock band playing. You'll definitely like them"
" I will," I assured him.
Not listening to a local rock band in St. Petersburg is like not going to Red Square in Moscow and not buying a gingerbread in Tula.
Satisfied with the time I had spent, I went to my room. And on the stairs I heard some unexplainable screams. My premonition was right, it was all for me. It can't be that everything was going perfectly well, there must be a spoonful of honey in the barrel of honey.
Camille broke into my room and demanded to open it.
" What are you doing? " I asked, stopping so that the distance between us was a little more than two meters. The girl had clearly lost her mind. And it's dangerous to get close to someone like that.
The blonde turned sharply and thrust her clawed red manicure forward.
" Aha! I knew it was you!" Camille howled.
I took a step back, expecting her to lash out.
" Excuse me? " I wondered.
Who did she expect to see trying to kick down the door to my room?
" We were doing so well until you showed up!"
The blonde defiantly whimpered, about to burst into beautiful tears. I didn't understand what her complaint was, but I didn't plan to find out.
I had to get up early tomorrow, at eight in the morning, so that I could be ready for the conference by nine. It was the first hour of the morning and I still planned to get some sleep.
Taking advantage of the fact that Camille was busy with her theater production, I quickly opened the door to my room, planning to hide inside. And let her knock until the porter came! Turns out that's exactly what she was expecting. Pushing me away, the blonde was the first to break in with a shout of, "Aha!"
After scanning the entire room with her frantic gaze, she didn't calm down. The room was small, and most of it was occupied by a double bed, two nightstands on its sides, a built-in closet with glass doors on the opposite wall, where the blonde immediately stuck her nose. Not finding what she was looking for, she moved to the only neighboring room – a shower room with a toilet. I don't know what she was looking for, but she obviously couldn't find anything.
" Why do you need such a big bed? " Camille asked suspiciously.
I shrugged, seriously considering calling the receptionist to escort her out by force.
The blonde suddenly collapsed to the floor and looked under the bed. I dropped my bag in surprise.
" I'll catch you anyway," she hissed threateningly and stormed out of the room.
I hurried to lock the door. What if she decided to come back?! Psychos are unpredictable creatures! Sitting down on the bed, I decided to wait a bit to make sure she was gone for good and, if anything, to actually call hotel security for help. I would have to warn Andrew about her appearance tomorrow.
The biggest injustice in the world is when you almost have a day off and can sleep, but your body somehow wakes up at five in the morning. You can't sleep at all, and yet you can't go back to sleep.
For the first minute I stared at the perfectly white and flat ceiling and couldn't remember where I was. Then I tried to fall asleep for half an hour, but the kingdom of Morpheus waved me goodbye and slammed the door in my face in the most despicable way.
The booklet of the hotel, which I had studied yesterday, said that breakfast was served only at half past eight in the morning. So it was useless to walk through the corridors in search of coffee. But I had time to thoroughly study the conference program, as well as a small black planner the size of a palm, which was in an envelope with the documents given to me by Andrew at the airport.
What can I say, his schedule was no easier than usual. Let's start at least with a joint breakfast with a certain Sokolov at eight-thirty in the morning. So I'd have to remind him of that at 8:00 sharp. At least I wouldn't have to walk far, our rooms are on the same floor.