and elated, she sang along to the radio while her rather fast driving. The radio played a song performed by Loboda1”To hell with love". The phone pinged. Vera left it on the next seat without attention, since a brand-new car is not supposed to be scratched at least in the first month. Oleg, as promised, presented her with a long-awaited New Year gift having organized the excursion for Vera to the car sales salon for a vehicle.
Right at the moment he was in Thailand with his family, he had a daughter under a year old, and his wife was determined to visit the countries with warm or even hot climate conditions.
Verochka didn't like Thai very much, it was too hot, too authentic, and there were too many animals. Despite all her dislike towards Asia, she often flew there with friends or with Oleg, and by the way, with him she had a great vacation. He had his own Villa in Phuket and the silent servants were equally happy to see either his wife or mistress.
But Vera preferred to travel to Europe, she liked Italy, Spain, Montenegro. Now she would like to go to Courchevel, or Courch as she liked to casually call it, winter mountain air, snow, skiing, lifts, lots of acquaintances, mulled wine in the evenings and making love on the floor by the fireplace.
Well, it doesn't matter, tonight Oleg arrives in Moscow, and at midnight he is seeing me, telling tales to his wife about important and complicated business affairs. We will be together for a couple of days, then I will persuade him to go somewhere on skis, maybe to the Alps, – Vera went on dreaming, – and maybe he will soon leave his wife and …
Vera was deeply in her thoughts at the traffic light and did not notice the light going green. A siren wailed from behind as a black jeep honked like a war elephant blaring with its trunk. The impatient ones went around Vera’s car some of them poked their middle finger through the car window. At the next traffic light, the jeep overtook her and cut off her trajectory, then apparently determining to punish her for the ten seconds time loss because of Vera’s traffic light dreaming, curtly pulled up in front of her. The girl’s foot instantly pushed the brake and the seat belt bit into her ample round chest. The pain spread over her breasts, even though the operation was a few weeks ago, but still, her bosom was still heaving, and the scars were a little sore and itchy.
– This is Moscow, baby! – she muttered and turned into her private drive.
When she parked, she picked up her phone and looked at the display there was a text from Oleg.
"Honey, I'm not going to Moscow in the following two weeks. Having a great sunbathe here. Don't be bored. If you need money, contact Igor, he is going to transfer some dinero2 in any case."
The good mood was immediately spoiled. Slamming the door of the Lexus with such a force that the pigeons were scared and flew away from the chestnut tree nearby, Vera came in the entrance and pushed the button of the elevator. The button didn't light up.
Tamara, her elderly neighbor, was wearily descending the stairs.
– Verochka3, good afternoon. The elevator doesn't work. This is the third time I've been down going shopping. Sclerosis.
– Good afternoon, Tamara, I see, let me help you. What do you need to buy in the store?
⁃Oh, don't worry about it. I'll go to Lyuba on the first floor. She's waiting for me. God grant you a good bridegroom. Thank you, dear.
Tamara always used to wish Vera a good bridegroom, the girl laughed cheerfully, thanked the old lady, and hurried away on her business.
But today's mentioning about a bridegroom was particularly painful to hear.
Without any answering, she quickly ran up the stairs wearing high heels. On the second floor her eyes went wet and having reached the fifth floor she opened the door and entered the apartment, the tears were pouring down her make-up face. Apparently, that was the last straw. First there were bad words and rudeness of drivers at the traffic light, then Oleg, the elevator and finally the groom wishing neighbor. Vera took off her high-heeled boots and went straight to the kitchen for an open bottle of wine from the refrigerator without putting off her exclusively sewn coat. Having taken a big gulp of curing white wine, Vera leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
Chapter 2
Vera Klimova was born in a modest and simple family of factory workers. Parents, having saved money and sold their country house on the riverbank, paid for their daughter to move and study in Moscow. They believed in their excellent student, in her thirst for knowledge and talent for the visual arts. The Director of the school where Vera studied, made patronage to one of the Moscow Universities of design and architecture, and also helped with the student's hostel. The Klimov's were crying, but they were taking their daughter to Moscow. On the one hand, they desperately missed their only child, and on the other, in a small town where the only place of work, a factory that breathes incense, is not a place for the smart and talented Vera, the winner of all competitions and Olympiads in drawing, graphics, and design. Another additional incentive to send their daughter to the capital was DimaTverdokhleb, her boyfriend from a family of hereditary alcoholics. Now Dimka worked at the factory and sipped on weekends, so for Vera's parents, Dmitry's future without education and career growth was transparent and clear as rock crystal. They didn't want to see Vera in a washed-out dressing gown, with their hungry children and a drunken husband.
After graduating from high school with ease and distinction, Vera easily found a job in a company that produces designer furniture and decor. The second client who ordered an interior solution for his country house was Oleg.
Tall, statuesque, in an expensive suit and shoes, where you can see your own reflection, Oleg Bryantsev won and fascinated a young twenty-three-year-old girl at first sight. Against the background of DimaTverdokhleb with a chocolate bar and field daisies plucked under the plant, Oleg did not seem, he was for Vera in the modest role of a deity.
She stayed with him right after the first date. Verochka had neither the strength nor the desire to say no.
And now the order was ready, furniture and decor for a country house on Novorizhskoe highway were designed, manufactured and delivered on time. Vera understood that she might not see Oleg again and was afraid of the last conversation.
The conversation did take place, but not the one she had expected.
"Cat, I'm married. I like you very much, I'm crazy about you, but I won't leave my wife, " Bryantsev took a sip of water and called the waiter.
It was late autumn and it was drizzling outside, but Verena's jacket was wet with cold sweat, and she felt as if there was a puddle on the seat of her chair under her, and she even stood up to check if it was melting like a snowman by the fireplace.
The waiter came over and helped her to sit down, thinking that she had just arrived, while her lover as if nothing had happened, looked at the menu.
"I'll have Caesar and duck in cranberry sauce." Cat, what do you want? Oleg asked solicitously.
Vera shook her head, nausea rising in her throat:
"I'll have some water and lemon, please."
When the waiter left, Oleg continued calmly.
"Don't worry, cat. I really want to date you. Honestly. I want to spend time with you. I rented you an apartment in the Garden boulevard, in the center. I'm more comfortable there, near my office. And you have a job nearby. Here are the keys and the address. Igor will send you money on the card so that you move, everything is as it should be, I will come when you will move to your new place to celebrate. If anything happens, call Igor, he will help you order movers or whatever you need. I'll be gone for a few days, flying away on business. Don't be bored. Take care of your new home. Bye. Stay here and feel free to order something else. Tell them to add your order on my name”.
Such a handsome and statuesque as on the first day of the meeting. He goes to the exit, talks by the phone, the driver hurries to open the door of an executive class car. Vera followed Oleg with her eyes until his car disappeared into the traffic. The waiter interrupted her thoughts:
"Anything else?" Do you want the menu?
Vera curled her icy fingers into fists under the table.
"Yes, red wine, please."