Chapter 6

The first thing I heard was a high, thin voice with hidden notes of impatience. I imagine that if the owner of a voice like that ever yelled at someone, everyone nearby would cover their ears at once. I also imagine that, as a child, she might have had the voice of an extremely spoiled little girl. And if someone had asked me what I pictured Lenochka looking like, based on her voice alone, I would have said a long-haired blonde with plumped-up lips, blue eyes, and 3D lashes.

In reality, the technical director’s daughter turned out to be a tall, short-haired brunette with brown eyes and pale skin, a slender build, and tattoos on her neck, ankle, and lower back. Of course, when she showed up in our department wearing a pantsuit and heels, we didn’t see the tattoos. But the girls quickly found her Instagram and showed it to me. Naturally, I took a look. What else was I supposed to do at lunch?

Beautiful, I’ll give her that. Seriously, wow! But if, in the dark, a pair of tiny cat eyes like those were staring at me from some stranger’s scrawny butt… honestly, I’d be pretty freaked out.

As it was, Valya was the one who got freaked out when Lenochka showed up in our department and ran into Galanina. I was so absorbed in digging up important information about the pump assemblies as I sat in my little nook, hammering at my keyboard—just a little longer and I’d find the supplier!—that I missed her spectacular entrance. But I did notice the unfamiliar brunette walk away from a stunned Valya’s desk, her heels clicking as she headed into Gordeev’s office.

Bang! The doors to the boss’s office slammed shut, and an indignant whisper swept through the quiet office.

“What a hag!” Yurka couldn’t hold back any longer. He poked his nose around the plastic partition. “No, seriously, did you see that? Who’s that cow?”

“She’s not a cow, Shlyapkin! She’s a hen who’d peck anyone to death!” Manana snorted from her desk.

“Hmm,” the refined Igor said, frowning unhappily and shaking his head. “Indeed,” he drawled. “This is quite a situation.”

“Still, what was that?” Yurka wouldn’t let it go. “Were the rules of politeness repealed just for her? What is she, the personification of consciousness, for crying out loud?”

“Hey, what happened?” I stuck my head out of my nook after Yurka and looked around. “Who was that, guys?”

Valya sat there as white as chalk.

“That was just Lenochka Petukhova,” Manana explained, making a face. “The daughter of Vadim Spiridonovich himself! She came to visit our—” She slanted her almond-shaped eyes toward the boss’s office. “And there was Valya!”

“So what?” Industrial pumps were on my mind, so I could be a little slow on the uptake.

“So what?” The girl nodded. “When you first saw Valya, Mash, what did you think?”

“Me?” I shrugged. I stared at the ceiling for two seconds. “I don’t remember exactly, but I think what struck me was her desk, buried under paperwork. The company couldn’t keep up with the project documentation back then, so Devyatko put me at Valya’s desk to help.”

Manana snorted again and waved a hand at me. As if to say, Sit there, Berry. I know all I need to know about you!

“And you, Yura?” the girl asked Shlyapkin. “Be honest!”

The young man scratched his chin, looking serious.

“Sorry, Val, but I’ll tell you the absolute truth. I thought, ‘Damn! What huge boo— ahem, eyes this girl has. I’d love to look into them.’”

“Exactly!” Eristavi pointed at him. “Did you hear that? So Lenochka came to visit our boss, and suddenly there was Galanina! There she was, beauty incarnate—no one knew where she’d come from—sitting practically next to Dmitry Sanych. So Lenochka looks at her ‘eyes’ and thinks, Why is the world so unfair to me? Some people get buttered buns; others get a bare pinecone!” Manana snorted. “I’ll peck that beauty hard enough to wipe that big smile off her face when she smiles at dear little Dimka. And she did, the little viper!”

“So what did she say?” I wouldn’t let it go. I mean, I was curious!

“She said I had spinach stuck in my teeth. And that next time someone asked whether Dmitry Alexandrovich was in, I shouldn’t smile so widely—it wasn’t appropriate in a business office. And that, just looking at me, she had to wonder whether I knew the difference between a strip club and a respectable company’s office.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Valya wilted even further.

“Oh, I’ve seen the spinach-in-your-teeth thing in a movie!” Manana put in her two cents. “Cheap and unoriginal!”

I had to agree.

“I’ve seen it too. Which means that chick doesn’t have an imagination of her own! And she’s got a pea brain to begin with! So what if she’s the technical director’s daughter? Does that give her the right to insult everyone?”

“Berry!”

“Huh? What?” I nearly fell off my chair.

My nook was at the end of the row, and to see the others and talk to them in a loud whisper, I’d had to climb onto a chair, which, naturally, immediately rolled away.

Gordeev stood in the doorway of his office, watching me disappear behind the partition.

“Maria, would you please come into my office?”

“Right now?” I mean, into the office where that very same Lenochka Petukhova was sitting—the one I hadn’t really looked at? What was I supposed to do in there, exactly?

“Exactly!”

But, as they say, you don’t argue with a commander’s orders on the front line. And we were a team here, like it or not, and this was the front line.

I sighed, straightened the chair, the keyboard, and the papers, put the pencil and pen away in my desk drawer, then changed my mind and put everything back. I opened a new pack of sticky notes and stuck one on a cardboard file folder. Then, after a moment’s thought, I stuck another one on the other side so it would look nicer—I love symmetry!

“Mashka, what are you doing? He’s waiting!” Yurka whispered, peeking around the partition. “Don’t rile the boss if you don’t want trouble!”

I didn’t want trouble—not for me, not for Shlyapkin, and not for an upset Valya—so I straightened my skirt and hair and went to Gordeev. But my legs were shaking a little on the way. What if his guest had heard everything I’d said out there? I wanted justice, sure, but I didn’t want to lose my job.

Gordeev stood in the doorway, as always, in a snow-white shirt, tie, and dark pants, and I had to gauge the gap and sidle past him to get into the office.

Wow, those shoulders! Could you turn sideways, maybe? What a tank!

“Yes, Dmitry Alexandrovich?” The door closed behind me, and I heard confident footsteps cross the room as Gordeev took his place behind his desk. He pushed his shirt sleeves up and laced his fingers together.

“Maria, meet Elena.” He pointed with his chin at the woman in the suit. “She’s an accountant and handles our department’s accounts. I need some information from you.”

I looked at the brunette; she looked at me, and we both nodded.

Whew, what a relief. So she hadn’t heard me. I could survive an appraising look. I’d been through worse, especially from old women on benches when I’d just had a baby without a husband.

“Berry, your résumé says”—Dimka began, sounding important—“that you’ve worked with commercial documentation.”