It takes a moment for my foggy, passion-clouded consciousness to realize that the voice sounds very familiar.
Who is it? Who? And then a chilling guess finally sobered me up. Makarenko. The devil herself. Why on earth has she shown up?
I swiftly detach myself from Andriy. We both breathe heavily. The spot recently pressed by his obvious and bulging erection now spasms and tingles with sweet sensations and unextinguished desire. Then embarrassment finally catches up with me, and I blush. Swiftly, I turn around and rush toward the exit, passing a stunned Zlata, forcing myself not to look back.
I rushed into the restroom. I'm breathing heavily, as if I've just finished a strenuous run. My chest tightens, "my lungs crave for air. Breathe in, breathe out. I turn on the cold water, moisten my hands, and press them to my flushed cheeks. I am gradually recovering.
Returning to the shared office with my head high, although I sense my blush hasn't subsided. Well, then. If she has something to say to me, "fine, I’m ready. But the devil isn't in the office. I exhale and decide to let it go. I let myself get immersed in work.
Zlata appears later, in a good mood, almost glowing. And importantly, she doesn’t whisper a word about the incident she witnessed in Polyansky's office, for which I am deeply grateful. I don’t see Andriy for the rest of the day either, and I understand that it's for the best, as he stirred a torrent of emotions within me that couldn’t stop.
The next day, I feel more confident. I take control of my emotions. After all, I'm a professional. Though I've made plenty of mistakes and not all my actions are good," the main thing, in my view, is to make the right conclusions, correct what can be corrected, and move forward. Constantly feeling guilty and living in the past never helped anyone.
So, when I arrive at the office on Friday morning and the girls immediately say that the boss wants to see me, I'm not flustered. On the contrary. I leave my outerwear in the cloakroom and calmly head directly to his office.
I knock quite loudly on the broad wooden door. Wait. A second, two. Finally, I hear a muffled permission to enter, and I press the handle. Andriy sits at his desk, a few sheets in his hands, "he’s thoroughly reading something.
" Good morning, " a faint smile appears on my lips. Not because I'm glad to see him, no. Although, to be honest, that feeling is also present. I flinch at this realization.
" Good morning, " he looks up from his reading and smiling faintly.
His gaze skims over me attentively, though I can't help but notice that he looks even more tired today. And if before this, despite everything, I wanted to agree to his request for help, now... Now something fierce within me rises, wanting to restore justice. Punish the guilty!
Because it's primarily the workers who suffer due to forged documents"those who turned to Polyansky's firm. Those who have families relying on them. Those who are heading even further into unknown Europe" to work hard in order to support these families, while fake documents could easily put an end to it.
And if they get lucky, it ends with just a little blood being shed, "deportation. And if not? If the forgery of documents gets pinned on them? Then it's even worse...I no longer hesitate a moment.
And after all, what keeps me here? My parents are going abroad for an extended period. My ex has his own life, in which there's no place for me. And it’s better to heal old wounds somewhere else.
" The girls mentioned you wanted to see me, " I suddenly declared stiffly. His eyes slowly begin to darken, and my equilibrium, as sturdy as flint just a moment ago, cracks.
" Yes," he reclines in his chair and weaves his long fingers together in front of himself. " I want to know if I can still count on you? " He raises an eyebrow. Provoking. Testing my endurance. I understand, but I still get angry.
" Of course, " I assert firmly with undisguised acerbic notes. Challenge for challenge. My chin might as well be jutting upward, but I see an approving expression in Polyansky's eyes, and a strange warmth spreads in my chest. Unanticipated, but pleasant.
" Excellent. I'll rent an apartment for you since it's a business trip, " he openly scans my face, but I have no intention of backing down. " But I don't know how long it will take. So it's better if you warn your family that the trip could be prolonged.
" That’s not a problem. My parents are planning to go abroad and stay there for a while…, " I blurted out, stopping mid-sentence. Because why am I suddenly explaining myself?
" Just the parents? " he squints and looks intently. " Are they the only ones you plan to inform?
" Yes. Anyone else I have to inform?" I strike back and absolutely do not intend to continue this discussion.
I see the corners of his mouth curve into a satisfied smile, and I start to get irritated. Because the unspoken "Is there anyone else?" hangs between us and balances like a taut string. Instead, I want to change the subject and already open my mouth, but Polyansky beats me to it:
" I'll book your flight tickets for tomorrow, so you have time to pack.
" Alright. Please send the apartment address on Viber, so I know where to go.
"I'll meet you," he states firmly.
" No," I respond just as categorically, " I’ll take a taxi.
This battle of stubborn glances lasts a moment, then the boss gives in. He sighs heavily, but I see the mirth in his eyes.
" Alright, have it your way," he says, and I exhale. Then he quietly adds: "This time.
And a chill sweeps across my skin, or rather, a sense of anticipation. I no longer wait, but turn and head to my office. Later in the day, I received an email with the boarding pass.
I review the flight details and in my head, I've already compiled a list of things I'd take with me. In the evening, I arrive at my apartment, pull out my suitcase, and start sorting through the wardrobe.
I throw in a few business suits with pants and skirts, several dresses, "my love, home wear, and sports outfits (I wouldn’t want to cancel the morning runs). I linger a bit longer deciding on lingerie. Especially on the black lace set I recently bought. I don’t even know why, since Max and I were already broken up then. But it looked so impressive, and it fit me perfectly, accentuating all the right places. So, I couldn’t resist.
Suddenly, my mischievous imagination conjures up a provocative picture, where I, in this enticing set, sway my hips to a slow tune. I throw up my hands, moving them in sync with the smooth motions of my hips, burning under the intense, passion-darkened turquoise gaze.
My mouth instantly goes dry, and a fire rages in my chest. Damn. What is this devil doing to my head?!
I breathe heavily. I grab the infernal set and want to throw it back into the drawer, but at the last second, my hands change direction, and angrily, I toss the black lace into the suitcase. I finish packing the necessities and am about to head for a shower when I see a notification on my phone.
Unlock the display. It's a message from the boss. He sent the address of my temporary residence in Kraków. That’s all, and yet my heart treacherously speeds up.
I assume he has probably already crossed the border by this time. I pull myself together. Because why should it matter to me where Polyansky is now?
" Damn. But it does matter, " I suddenly realize, and a chill covers my skin. So, I don’t reply to him. Just like the message.
Coward! And what if that’s true? After all, I was in love with Max. And a broken heart," Oh, how it hurts. It aches, and the emptiness in my soul is far from healed.
So, it's no wonder that now I don’t rush headlong into new relationships. Although some sixth sense whispers that Polyansky is not just looking for a simple flirt, no. For him, it’s serious. I sigh and swallow a prickly lump in my throat.
Enough. Done. It’s already in the past. History. And I choose"to look into the future, into tomorrow. So the fact that it'll start in a new country, in a new city for me, "that’s for the better. With such thoughts, I go to bed hoping to sleep peacefully, but turquoise eyes haunt me even in my dreams.