Юрий Буреве

Night call. The erotic novel of infidelity


Скачать книгу

in documents without initials.

      "A world of surnames, where they are known, but you can't address them," he often thought, as he did today, entering his office, where it smelled of freshness and a carefully washed floor, on which he almost slipped, going to the window to open the vent. He didn't like air conditioners very much, because they didn't freshen the air, but only cooled it, accelerating it in a cycle, so a properly opened window at the right angle saved the situation.

      – Christina, please make a quarterly report,– he said, looking out the door.

      In addition to today's presentation, there were also current tasks that did not disappear anywhere.

      He laid out around him a pile of papers on the technical documentation of the finished product for launching sales.

      The presentation of the program, which began exactly at 11:00, began with a short speech by the company's executive director, who introduced Yan Konstantinovich to investors.

      – Hello, this product will allow designers to work in a team without resorting to other additional communications, our team has undertaken … – here his speech was interrupted by one of the investors, asking:

      –Have you tried working with this product yourself?

      – Yes, but I'm not a designer, I'm a programmer.

      –Yesterday I gave the trial version to my daughter, she didn’t figure out the interface right away, although she is an excellent student at school, which means the user won’t be able to quickly launch the new product on their desktop.

      – But she's not a designer.

      – She is an excellent student and used to draw well, so we gave it to her to use, and your product needs to be improved, the interface needs to be simplified.

      – But it is made for professional designers, and working with this pr…

      Here he was interrupted again by the same investor, who had 31 percent of the shares, which was considered the largest in one hand, the next owner had only five percent, the rest even less, but they were the majority. The majority, which now did not decide anything, which could be presented as a violation of the internal charter, but this holder of a large block of shares was so charismatic that no one dared to correct him.

      The project was returned for revision.

      Jan returned to his office, the ten minutes that passed after that did not change his body position, and the employees who came in, his subordinates, understanding what had happened, seeing his abstract gaze out the window, went back out, not trying to disturb him.

      – Fuck! – he said so loudly that the employees passing by couldn't hear it through the open door.

      Jan picked up his phone and started scrolling through his contacts, wondering who he could call to distract himself a bit.

      He called a friend he went to university with, but he didn't pick up the phone. When he called his wife, he also heard beeps that seemed to go on forever, cutting through the silence like a knife through butter.

      He went out into the corridor, but everyone seemed to be hiding from him, so when he went out into the smoking room where the employees were sitting, and he only knew half of their names, and almost all of their last names, the conversation did not work out.

      Having delegated his powers to his senior department employee, he went down to the cafe, where he decided to eat a sweet dessert, which gave his brain activity a boost.

      The cake that was offered to him was surprisingly similar to the cake from yesterday, and the whole evening and night passed before his eyes, he remembered his wife, who, with her back turned, fucked herself with a silicone cock, and himself, who spilled sperm on the sheet.

      The thoughts in his head were mixed up like vegetables in a salad, mixing with fragments of reality, when he managed to catch a glimpse of an employee of his department, whom for some reason he had noticed before.

      She was sitting in the corner of a small cafe, where music was playing softly and the smell of roasted coffee was strong. He decided to sit down next to her and start a conversation, breaking all the rules of subordination. But today was a special day for him, a particularly tragic day, so he deliberately went against the internal company rule – not to talk to subordinates about personal matters and especially not to fuck them.

      – Hello.

      – Hello. We said hello this morning. I'm Nadya, although you probably already know me, but how can you remember everyone?

      – I know,– said Jan, although he didn’t know her name, and it’s not like he’d forgotten it; he’d never known her.

      She was wearing black trousers and a light shirt, which was the recommended dress code, although not all employees tried to adhere to this rule.

      There was no ring on her hand, but she could have been divorced or simply not wearing a ring. Various thoughts continued to visit Jan.

      Getting up from the table, he wrote his personal number on a napkin and, patting her on the shoulder, said:

      – Call after work.

      She didn't answer and stayed to finish her portion of food.

      The day at work ended, and Jan was in no hurry to go home, waiting for a call from his co-worker Nadya, whose phone number he for some reason did not ask for. But the phone was silent, he called his wife, but the receiver did not answer.

      Having found Nadya’s number in the internal database, he sent a message: – Hello, this is Yan Konstantinovich.-

      The answer came five minutes later: – I’m going to a friend’s birthday party today, if you want, you can take me home later.-

      He replied:

      – Okay.

      But Jan had no desire to go home, and he decided to take a walk around the city. He parked his car in a paid parking lot and went on foot, and he decided that walking would be the best way to relieve his depression from the undelivered work. This promised new problems, but technically they were all solvable, but he was close to losing faith in humanity.

      The benches in the park, past which he made his walking route to nowhere, without a goal, were all filled with people walking, walking, and walking.

      Having found one free half of a bench in one place, he walked with a confident step and, having reached it, asked permission to sit down.

      – Sit down,– said the girl, who was dressed in a tracksuit and was probably either walking or returning from the gym, because there was a large sports bag on the bench nearby.

      – Jan.

      – Anna.

      – Nice to meet you. Are you going to the gym or coming from the gym?

      – No, I'm moving.

      –To another city?

      – No, my boyfriend and I broke up and had a fight.

      –Make up again.

      – Unlikely.

      – Why?

      – Yes, there is a reason there.

      – I thought you were going to the gym because you were wearing a tracksuit,– said Jan, but he thought it was too simple an explanation because she had already given the reason, but he clearly wanted to engage the girl in conversation.

      – Why are you walking in the park in the evening? Did your wife kick you out too? – Anna laughed.

      – Wife… No, it’s normal with my wife, different things happen, but we love each other,– he said unexpectedly for himself and, perhaps, for her, who, perhaps, expected that he would start scolding his wife and voicing his difficult family situation.

      – Then we need to go home.

      – I don’t want to, it’s been a hard day, I don’t want to go home, and she doesn’t pick up the phone, maybe she’s offended.-

      – For what?

      – Maybe