Revenge – served cold - Лидия Антонова

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a mode all day long!

      Thinking of the waiters, I remembered Mila. Her thirst for activity must be controlled! She had said the boys were here, we should see!

      I jumped up and ran to the staff quarters. She was in a madhouse! Six guys in their twenties were trying to change their clothes. Mila snuck between them and interfered with each with advice.

      " Yura, tuck in your shirt. Mishenka, little girl, the butterfly must be straight!

      "Baby," standing in his shirt and underpants, dropped his pants and began to adjust his bowtie.

      " Sweetie, there are some bottles in the cupboard: whiskey, cognac, please take them out. I need to take them to the front desk.

      Catching the appreciative looks from all the guys, I realized I was going in the right direction. Sweetie needs to be neutralized!

      While she got the bottles out, I took the tray and put the right glasses on it. I'm sure you'll need them soon enough. Men in general like to discuss important matters with a glass in their hands.

      " Please help me carry it to the waiting room.”

      Sweetie was eager to follow me. For good reason, as it turns out.”

      " Your place is so stylish and beautiful! Do you often order waiters?

      " For every council and big meetings.”

      " Oh, that's great. I'm ready to help with all the preparations.”

      I nodded in agreement, vowing never to use their company again!

      Dumping the glasses on the table behind the palm tree, I turned to her to cool her fervor a bit. Maybe if she took offense and left, the serving of lunch would go off without incident?

      The conference room door opened and a board member stepped out. He walked purposefully toward us, looked at the glasses, chose one for whiskey and turned to Mila. She readily filled it. Having drunk in a gulp, he put the glass down and returned to the conference room. All this in silence!

      I looked at him in complete bewilderment and turned to Mila.

      " It happens," she shrugged philosophically.

      I didn't have time to answer, this time Mr. Brow came into the waiting room. He chose a cognac and made sure that the glass was full, drank it in one gulp and left.

      From that moment on, a whole joint pulled out of the conference room. Sweetie became the bartender, and I ran to the restroom to wash glasses. As a result, it was no surprise that when lunch started to be served, everyone was a little tipsy.

      " Can I get you anything? " quietly asked Andrew .

      " No, thank you, he shook his head."

      The gathering became very lively, and they were cheerfully discussing something. The guys coped perfectly well, neutralized Mila, left to guard the bottles, and did not interfere with them.

      " Rina, do you remember that we're leaving today? " Andrew suddenly inquired.

      " Of course, " frankly speaking, I forgot about it. And I didn't take my suitcase with me, as I had planned.

      " Everyone is starting to disperse. Call the cleaning lady and go to pack. Meet me at Domodedovo at 8:30. There's an 8:00 p.m. flight."

      " All right."

      I can't believe he's really taking me on this trip. For the first time in a long time, I had a wonderful sense of anticipation.

      Chapter 5

      Domodedovo met … as always! To understand where in this anthill is what? – you have to work here!

      A married couple rushed past me, almost knocking me off my feet, rattling my suitcases. They ran in the crowd like flies in butter and scattered in different directions, then met again at the same place. And the man said something bright and emotional. But they ended up going in the direction the woman was running.

      I grinned and, clutching my small suitcase tighter, went in search of any of the airport staff.

      Inside, the airport was a nominal post-bombing market. They sold everything from food and newspapers, which was reasonable, to various appliances, which was surprising.

      And here's the best part, if you ask a vendor anything, he doesn't know anything. Not even where the nearest toilet is! Before asking him, you need to buy something to jog his memory, so to speak. Unfortunately, the prices in Domodedovo were as if only millionaires used the airport's services. But the airport staff could not be seen at a glance. Probably, they shyly dissolved among travelers hoping to join the group flying, say, to Kanye.

      I had to get to the VIP lounge. That's where Andrew was waiting for me, holding my ticket, salary and work book.

      The phone call came at the moment when I noticed the local guard and was about to catch up with him. I pulled out my phone and answered it without looking:

      " I forgot to tell you exactly which hall I'll be waiting for you in."

      I blinked, realizing belatedly that I had answered Andrew 's call. I should still look at the phone before answering in a disgruntled tone.

      " Isn't he alone? " I was sincerely surprised.

      VIP lounges are usually used either by business class passengers or participants of any programs, from the category – "fly a hundred times super economy class and get one VIP lounge dinner".

      " Uh, uh… What floor are you on? " He asked me with a hesitation.

      I was embarrassed, although, it would seem, how could I know about the number of VIP lounges in airports?

      " The first."

      " Great. From the main entrance, turn left, go straight, straight, straight, straight, straight until you see the sign. Can you handle it?"

      " Of course," I replied, slightly perplexed.

      Judging by his tone and the way he explained it, he had already joined the bar. However, it finally became clear to me where to go. The main thing was that I didn't have to turn anywhere, otherwise I would have gotten lost.

      I got to the desired place quickly, but before the entrance to the hall there was a small hitch. I was blocked by a guard who asked me if I had a ticket. And the ticket had to be a business class ticket. In fact, I didn't have any.

      " My boss has the ticket, I'm a secretary," I said cheerfully.

      " Secretary? And the director of the company has the ticket? " The guard asked incredulously.

      I sighed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Usually it's just the opposite, the secretary has the tickets, passes, minty motion sickness pills and bags if the pills don't help. I had to pull out my phone and call Andrew , not to argue with the guard, proving that the tickets were ordered much earlier than I was employed!

      " Are you Rina? " asked one of the waitresses and, after waiting for my confused "Yes", continued: " I'll show you to your table."

      I exhaled with relief and smiled gratefully at the girl. Trying not to look at the confused guard, I followed her.

      Andrew was sitting at a corner table, in front of him there was one glass and an almost finished bottle of whiskey. The man himself was already quite tipsy. I greeted him once more in surprise and sat down carefully.

      " I hate flying," the boss confided.

      I blinked in surprise, not expecting such a confession from a man. Everyone I'd known before had been desperately brave or angry, but they'd never admitted their weakness.

      Andrew filled the glass. I managed to move forward and cover it with my hand, preventing him from drinking. A little more would definitely keep us off the plane. According to the rules, the crew has the right to deny boarding to people who are intoxicated or not only intoxicated, but also behaving inappropriately. And who's to say that a man who's just drinking doesn't throw a tantrum before the gangway? Or do the rules not apply to millionaires?

      " No need to continue, we're about to board," I muttered.

      Andrew suddenly nodded in agreement and moved

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