Читать книгу Vera the Mistress - Валентина Басан - Страница 2

Vera Klimova was born in a modest and simple family of factory workers. Parents, having saved money and sold their country house on the riverbank, paid for their daughter to move and study in Moscow. They believed in their excellent student, in her thirst for knowledge and talent for the visual arts. The Director of the school where Vera studied, made patronage to one of the Moscow Universities of design and architecture, and also helped with the student's hostel. The Klimov's were crying, but they were taking their daughter to Moscow. On the one hand, they desperately missed their only child, and on the other, in a small town where the only place of work, a factory that breathes incense, is not a place for the smart and talented Vera, the winner of all competitions and Olympiads in drawing, graphics, and design. Another additional incentive to send their daughter to the capital was DimaTverdokhleb, her boyfriend from a family of hereditary alcoholics. Now Dimka worked at the factory and sipped on weekends, so for Vera's parents, Dmitry's future without education and career growth was transparent and clear as rock crystal. They didn't want to see Vera in a washed-out dressing gown, with their hungry children and a drunken husband.

After graduating from high school with ease and distinction, Vera easily found a job in a company that produces designer furniture and decor. The second client who ordered an interior solution for his country house was Oleg.

Tall, statuesque, in an expensive suit and shoes, where you can see your own reflection, Oleg Bryantsev won and fascinated a young twenty-three-year-old girl at first sight. Against the background of DimaTverdokhleb with a chocolate bar and field daisies plucked under the plant, Oleg did not seem, he was for Vera in the modest role of a deity.

She stayed with him right after the first date. Verochka had neither the strength nor the desire to say no.

And now the order was ready, furniture and decor for a country house on Novorizhskoe highway were designed, manufactured and delivered on time. Vera understood that she might not see Oleg again and was afraid of the last conversation.

The conversation did take place, but not the one she had expected.

"Cat, I'm married. I like you very much, I'm crazy about you, but I won't leave my wife, " Bryantsev took a sip of water and called the waiter.

It was late autumn and it was drizzling outside, but Verena's jacket was wet with cold sweat, and she felt as if there was a puddle on the seat of her chair under her, and she even stood up to check if it was melting like a snowman by the fireplace.

The waiter came over and helped her to sit down, thinking that she had just arrived, while her lover as if nothing had happened, looked at the menu.

"I'll have Caesar and duck in cranberry sauce." Cat, what do you want? Oleg asked solicitously.

Vera shook her head, nausea rising in her throat:

"I'll have some water and lemon, please."

When the waiter left, Oleg continued calmly.

"Don't worry, cat. I really want to date you. Honestly. I want to spend time with you. I rented you an apartment in the Garden boulevard, in the center. I'm more comfortable there, near my office. And you have a job nearby. Here are the keys and the address. Igor will send you money on the card so that you move, everything is as it should be, I will come when you will move to your new place to celebrate. If anything happens, call Igor, he will help you order movers or whatever you need. I'll be gone for a few days, flying away on business. Don't be bored. Take care of your new home. Bye. Stay here and feel free to order something else. Tell them to add your order on my name”.

Such a handsome and statuesque as on the first day of the meeting. He goes to the exit, talks by the phone, the driver hurries to open the door of an executive class car. Vera followed Oleg with her eyes until his car disappeared into the traffic. The waiter interrupted her thoughts:

"Anything else?" Do you want the menu?

Vera curled her icy fingers into fists under the table.

"Yes, red wine, please." Bottle.

– just a moment. It will be served.

Two years have passed since then. And now Vera was also clutching a bottle of dry red vine in her kitchen with icy fingers. She was still in her memories.