For that, I'd have to feed him.
" What's our flight? " I asked.
Andrew slid an envelope to me. As I expected, the envelope contained our tickets, hotel reservations and, most pleasantly, the transfer. So, if he doesn't hold back and gets completely drunk on the plane, I won't have to worry about how to get him to the hotel.
" Anything else? " the waitress asked, setting our coffees down in front of us.
" If I could get something to eat, we would have less than forty minutes to board.
Of course, we should not expect the cook to cook a steak and we will be able to eat it in the remaining time. When time is limited, it's always better to ask the waitresses what is available in the kitchen."
" Maybe there are some preferences? " Still, the girl clarified.
I shook my head negatively and assured her that I didn't. I don't suffer from any food allergies, and I don't count calories.
The girl smiled faintly with only the corner of her lips. Most likely, she does not meet such visitors often, who do not demand to fry a piglet in five minutes, and only fresh and do not torture about the exact number of calories in each piece.
Andrew had been sipping his coffee gloomily all this time. If I had known about his problem in advance, I would have bought a light sleeping pill and intercepted it before he could drink it. Of course, there's a pharmacy around here somewhere. Except sleeping pills don't mix well with alcohol, you could end up like Merlin Monroe!
Nevertheless, I was in the best mood I'd ever been in. This trip is going to be exciting. I'll attend a conference, expand my knowledge. Besides, I might be able to visit a couple of interesting places in St. Petersburg itself.
Business class finally made me feel like a queen. Before that, I had only flown in economy class, where you can only fold your legs over the ears of the passenger in front of you. But here you have space, a blanket and champagne. And I did not have to ask or demand anything. It was as if the staff could read minds and guess whom to serve what.
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