Татьяна Викентьева – "STOLEN IMMORTALITY" (страница 21)

-Okay. I agree. Here are three thousand dollars. - He held out the money.

-Well,"That's great!" said the man in the black tailcoat, taking the money and starting to count it. "We've made a good deal!"

"A profitable one—for you, not for me! Instead of three hundred dollars, you got three thousand dollars! Ten times more!" Alexander said irritably.

"You've made the right choice too!" the show's organizer retorted. "After all, the most beautiful girl on our show will be spending the evening with you, and not with other clients!"

-Yes. For the evening she spent with other clients alone, you would have earned three hundred dollars. And they ripped me off for three thousand dollars!

"You weren't the first! And so you were obligated to pay for the trouble I'd cause with my first clients when I informed them Svetlana Lazareva wouldn't be spending the evening with them and refunded their money."

-Isn't the price for your troubles with your first clients enormous?

"No. Just right! Don't take it personally. Everyone earns their living in their own place – as best they can!" The show's organizer placed the money Alexander had given him into his inside tailcoat pocket and clapped it joyfully. "All the best, sir! I hope you have a pleasant evening!"

“Thank you,” Alexander muttered discontentedly. “When will Svetlana Lazareva come?”

- Don't worry! I won't keep you waiting! I'll send the girl to you right away.

“Okay,” said Alexander and went to his table.

Olga Kudrina was already sitting at the table with Vladimir. They were chatting animatedly and laughing. When Alexander approached, they became embarrassed and quiet.

“Well, why did you stop laughing?” asked Alexander.

"We... We haven't stopped... We..." Vladimir hesitated, and then said, turning to the girl and pointing at Alexander. "Olenka! Allow me to introduce you. This is Alexander Ivanovich. My boss."

"Nice to meet you. And you already know my name," Olga said, looking at Alexander.

"Yes. I know." Alexander sat down at the table and continued thoughtfully. "Your name is Olga. And I thought your name was Victoria."

“Why did you decide that?” asked the model.

“Because you look very much like one girl,” Alexander answered.

“Is her name Victoria?” Olga asked.

“Yes.” Alexander nodded affirmatively.

“Maybe you could tell me about her?” Olga suggested.

"No. I don't want to. It's personal," Alexander refused. "Better you tell me what you were laughing so infectiously about before I arrived."

"Vladimir told me a joke. A very funny one," Olga explained.

"I see. He's a master at telling jokes. And, in general, at making people laugh," said Alexander, looking gloomily at Vladimir.

"What happened, Alexander Ivanovich? Why are you so gloomy? Couldn't come to an agreement with the show's organizer?" Vladimir asked, sensing something was wrong.

"No, Vladimir. We came to an agreement. It's just that the show's organizer turned out to be a scoundrel and a greedy person. He demanded three thousand dollars for an evening with Svetlana Lazareva."

-Wow!-Vladimir even whistled in surprise. - And you paid?

"I paid," Alexander replied irritably. "I had to pay. The show's organizer said I had to pay for the trouble he'd cause with his first clients when he told them Svetlana Lazareva wouldn't be spending the evening with them."

“I see,” Vladimir shook his head sympathetically. “This show organizer really is a scoundrel and a greedy person!” he asked, turning to the girl. “And what do you think, Olenka?”

“I think so too,” the model answered quietly and lowered her head.

-Tell me, Olya, how long have you been working on this show? - asked Alexander.

-Eleven months.

"That's quite a lot. And what prompted you to work on this scoundrel and thieves' show?" Alexander continued to interrogate the girl.

"Sorry. I'd rather not talk about it," the model answered quietly again.

"Well, if you don't want to, then don't! Let's talk about something else!" Alexander looked at the girl unceremoniously. "For example, about you. How old are you, Olya?"

-Nineteen.

-What is your education?

-Secondary special.

-Yes? And what is your specialty?

-Nurse.

- I wonder how a nurse became a model?

"It happened by accident. I needed money, and I..." Olga faltered and blushed.

-Ah! I see! The reason is banal. You needed money, and you decided to sell your beauty.

-I...No...It's not like that at all...-Olga blushed even more and lowered her head.

- How? Tell me! - Alexander insisted.

The girl remained silent. A tense pause ensued. Just then, Svetlana Lazareva approached the table.

“Good evening,” she said. “May I join you?”

-Of course. Please, sit down. - Vladimir stood up and politely pulled out a chair for the girl.

"Thank you," the model sat down at the table and turned to the men. "Well, let's get acquainted. My name is Svetlana Lazareva."

“And I’m Vladimir,” Vladimir introduced himself to the girl. “And this is my boss, Alexander Ivanovich.” He pointed at Alexander.

“Just Alexander,” Alexander corrected Vladimir, turning to the girl.

"I understand. You are Vladimir. And you are Alexander." Svetlana Lazareva looked at the men, shifting her gaze from one to the other.

"Well, and Olenka, you know..." Vladimir began. But Svetlana cut him off abruptly, saying mockingly and cynically:

- I know, I know. We're colleagues. Aren't we, Olenka?

Olga didn't answer. Another tense pause ensued.

“Maybe we should have a drink?” Vladimir asked timidly.

-Yes. Let's drink, - said Alexander. - Vladimir! Pour the wine!

Following his boss's orders, Vladimir began pouring wine into glasses. But suddenly he stopped and exclaimed:

-Alexander Ivanovich! The sheikh and his translator are coming towards us! The sheikh has a furious look on his face! Ah! What's going to happen now?

"Nothing will happen! Calm down, Vladimir!" Alexander said calmly, without even turning in the direction Vladimir and the girls were looking.

Meanwhile, the enraged Sheikh Rashid approached Vladimir, grabbed him by the collar, lifted him from his chair, and punched him in the face. Then he approached Alexander, grabbed him by the collar, lifted him from his chair, and was about to strike him... But, looking at Alexander's face, he suddenly became taken aback, lowered his clenched fist, and... began babbling in his own language. A translator, standing nearby, translated the sheikh's speech:

-Oh, my God! This can't be! Alexander Ivanovich! Is that you? Here? I didn't expect it to be you! I almost hit you! Forgive me! Forgive me!

Alexander interrupted the sheikh's exclamations as follows:

-Dear Sheikh Rashid! Let's step aside and talk.

When the bespectacled young man translated, the sheikh nodded in agreement and walked away from the table. Alexander and the translator followed him.