exhausted by the road, I walked up to our house without looking around. So I didn't notice the festivities right away. Neighbors, who jumped out of their houses, were frantically putting out the fire. I rushed to us and almost crashed into Ramila, who had come out of the house in a tiny robe, but with a huge bucket of water.
" What happened?"
" Idiots surrounded us!"
Ramila ran to the neighboring plot, and I rushed after her. The picture I saw was more pathetic than scary. A huge fire was burning in the middle of the neighbor's plot. When I looked closer, I realized that it was firewood prepared for the winter, but unused. A man in underpants, an alcoholic T-shirt and rubber boots was running around the fire. He didn't even try to put anything out, the neighbors were doing it. The curiosity of the situation was that the fire could spread to any house standing nearby. A strong gust of wind was enough to carry the spark.
Ramila splashed a bucket of water on the fire. The flames, hissing mockingly, continued.
" Damn fool! " The friend fawned over the man and ran back.
I agreed with her wholeheartedly, rushing back, going to join our rescue.
Following me, a burly woman flew into our plot, in whom I could hardly identify my neighbor on the right. This time she was wearing a plush bathrobe and carrying a huge skein of rubber in her hands. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a hose, just catastrophically wide in diameter.
" Come on, help me!"
The two of us quickly unwound the hose. I with one end stood in a fighting stance at the fence, going to water the fire. My neighbor hooked the other end to the faucet and opened the water.
The hose shuddered and hummed suspiciously. I was alarmed; I had never heard water make such a sound before. Seconds passed, and still no pressure.
The water rushed out like a geyser, hitting the fence. I fell on my back and let go of the hose. It danced around, splashing everyone with water. I jumped up and tried to grab the hose. A neighbor decided to do the same, and we collided on the approach. I collapsed to the ground, the neighbor snorted contemptuously. She was an indestructible rock holding the water pressure, directing it in the right direction. True, she had several targets, the fire and its culprit.
When she was done, she turned off the water and proudly walked away, leaving the firemen to deal with the arsonist. I was left sitting on the ground in a puddle of mudd.
" Impressive, to say the least," Ramilya commented.
I hooked and pulled myself up off the ground and wandered into the house. Why wouldn't this hard day full of surprises end?
After a sudden hose shower in the bathtub, I soaked for about an hour. I had to literally scratch the dirt out of my hair with a brush. And here's the most amazing thing, if you make a natural mask and diligently rub it into your scalp to revitalize and nourish the bulbs, about half of it stays dry. And if you fall on the ground and get doused with water, it's like you've gotten a lamination.
So I cleaned myself up. I got into a tracksuit, as it turned out, neighbors can quickly and effectively diversify life, and there will be no time to change clothes. I went to the kitchen. The suspiciously familiar smell of something spicy beckoned. I hope my nose is not deceiving me and Ramila is making mulled wine.
" You know what the saddest part is? You'll have to live side by side with these people for years to come," she said sadly.
" Maybe it's not so bad?"
Ramila looked at me skeptically. I lowered my eyes. We've only lived here a week, and the neighbors have already revived our life. They're running around our yard, or trying to burn it down!
While Ramila was stirring the potion of soothing, I made sandwiches. Dinner turned out to be peculiar and far from proper nutrition, but tasty. Sometimes you have to indulge yourself. After thinking, I sliced some cheese and opened a jar of olives.
Having poured the drink into half-liter high mugs, we sat down at the table. It was under the hot wine with spices that I told my friend about the upcoming business trip. The longer I thought about it, the more I did not understand the motives of Andrew .
" Great! " Ramilya was excited. " Is he handsome?"
" Who? " I did not understand.
" Andrew ."
" Mr. Roberts , " I added. " So…"
Feigning indifference, I introduced the boss, a tall, statuesque brunette with green eyes. And that's just the beginning of his virtues, to everything else he is also smart. He's just predictable, judging by Camille. But he always smelled nice, his perfume, obviously bought not in Russia, with dignity silent about the number of zeros in foreign currency in its price tag. Oh yes, without a doubt, you can't pass by such a thing. Only after some time, I'm allergic to handsome men.
" So he's handsome," Ramilya said.
" He's not my type," I said.
" Well, we've already seen yours," Ramilya said skeptically.
" You know, when I came to the interview, there was a whole corridor full of models, and I was chosen. What does that say?"
" That they birch trees? " Ramila suggested.
I shook my head and, carefully scooping up the "brew" with a tablespoon, drank my mental torment. Unlike my friend, I had another theory. Against the background of beauties with legs from the ears, I was a natural gray mouse. And Ms.Adams was looking for a secretary who would work, not dream about the boss. And if fantasies wander into her head, the boss will not want to realize them.
" But if that's the case, you probably shouldn't overstep your bounds. This business trip will be a test. Whether you can stand the test of his beauty and charm or not. You need to pack your things. "
And not in a way that makes it look like you're ready to jump into bed with him, even though you'd rather be on the table with your boss. You have a different mission for this company.
That's where I totally agreed with her. I didn't have a normal job in my employment history. I had to be able to hold it for a couple years. And ideally get a promotion. Rendezvousing with my boss didn't fit into that plan.
" But, you know, it's time to get out of the "mousey mouse" mold, too. There will be other men there," Ramila added unexpectedly.
I grimaced. After the betrayal of my beloved, I was not ready to let someone into my life.
" Hey, neighbors!"
There was a knock at the kitchen window. We shuddered and turned at the knock. A burned-out neighbor loomed in the yard. This time he looked almost decent: in sweatpants and an open turtleneck, but in the same alcoholic T-shirt. He looked about forty years old. His blond, long uncut hair fell over his eyes, and his face was framed by a beard that would only scare a barber.
" What do you want? " Ramila snorted, opening the window.
" I just came to apologize. I didn't know you'd already arrived."
The man's logic was strange. That is, if he knew that the house was inhabited again, would not have set fire to the wood?
" Well, apologize, " "allowed" Ramilya.
" Wo!"
The
