She drew with not stopping, examined fine details and dashes, having no desire to think about anything. She had a well-drown sketch when there was a small envelop in the display corner.

Vic stopped drawing, having torn herself away from the sketch and looked at the blinked envelop.

“What’s that?” was her thought when she thought gritted teeth put the pen aside and started reading message details.

Good morning, Victoria

I inform you that on behalf of the country manager, Gregory Dogmanov, the meeting has been arranged for today at 3 pm. Business-lunch takes place on the 3d floor in “La Esperanza” café. Please, have your laptop with you.

Executive Assistant

Lidia Sviridova”

The girl frowned and read the message again. She didn’t know who Gregory Dogmanov was and what a business-lunch was settled and why her participation was necessary. She got share of distrust and doubt in her mind. What if they were going to dismiss her? On the other hand, the country manager absolutely had something else to do but not to invite potentially dismissed employees to lunches.

The girl let it all hang out and kept on drawing. She bended very low above her sketch, intently scratching details with the plastic pen, which were transferred into the display at once.

Suddenly all stopped. There were no moves. Silence. Victoria didn’t like it ahead of the game. As she was no stranger to when the world stopped moving and it meant a crappy omen completely.

Her eyes became heavy… Victoria resisted but as a result she closed her eyes and turned out to be in some washy hall. Flying through it at a great speed, she tried to see murmurated things. The walls were enweaved of glimpses of strangers’ faces, indoor scenes, multi-coloured lightings and letters. There were many different letters not only in Cyrillic. Everything surrounded flew through Victoria fast-paced. She didn’t have time to catch anything with her eyes, dissolving in the eternal vision stream.

Then all stopped. Again. All was paralyzed. There was an intimate atmosphere. It had a soft semi-darkness, failing light, cosy arm-chairs with cushions. Vic felt sitting in one of the arm-chairs. There was a glass table but not transparent. Napkins, cutlery, salts and casters were carefully served the table.

Relax music sounded, warmed and filled with romantic pictures. There was a female tone. Sugary one. It was so pleasant to listen to it and understand nothing. The song was in French. It was for the better.

In front of her a young man was sitting. No, it was a man. A solid, self-confident one.

He wore a jacket with cuffs, smooth face, straight parting on his head. He seemed to be an ideal and mannered. He had neither imperfection nor defect.

Victoria cocked her head, having frowned, studied the cared-for look man.

‘Victoria’ he stood up and extended his hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Gregory.’

The girl stood up, too and took his hand and smiled having known what to say.

‘Pleasure is mine.’

They both sat to the table. Gregory studied the girl sitting in front of him, she studied his professionally and carefully done nails.

‘I’d like to discuss current situation about the re-design of our main package.’ The man gave the fat paper case to the girl. ‘But let’s begin with our lunch. Lady’s first.’

Gregory gave the menu to the girl also, intently following her with his eyes.

‘Ok.’

Vic was laconic. All the atmosphere confused her a bit. After quick glance at the menu Vic ordered just sea-buckthorn tea.

‘Mr Dogmanov,’ the girl closed the menu and looked at the man’s eyes. ‘I’ve already projected a new design of this product. I was going to send it for your approval. So, as you started talking about it, let me show you some sketches and templates.’

Vic took out her laptop, moved closer to Gregory and opened the laptop.

‘Well let’s see,’ she began, after she had opened the first presentation slide.

Vic spoke a lot, clearly, trying to convey a persuasive message her interlocutor. Unexpectedly she felt his leg touch hers under the table.

That was an accident, she thought. Vic shot a surprised look at Gregory and stopped speaking for a moment.

‘I’m sorry,’ the man smiled. ‘Go on your presentation. It’s very interesting.’

‘…This slide consists of a new form, more advanced that, my opinion, matches the product better than the previous one.’

Gregory watched the presentation of the new project carefully. His lunch was getting cold but they both dipped into the bright display.

‘Wow!’ the man exhaled, having fixed his tie, as Victoria had finished her presentation. ‘I’m really glad that our HR employed you. This project has to be on my table by tomorrow afternoon. I approved it fully and give the go-ahead for realization of each slides.’

The girl couldn’t help smiling, listening to flattered and winy boasting in her way. Words dint fail Gregory when he heaped the girl’s efforts with expressing thanks and enthusiastic shouting. Only the next touch of his leg to hers made Victoria come back to reality.

‘I’m sorry,’ Vic thought she was to blame. ‘I should move back.’

The girl rose quickly when she felt his strong fingers squeezing her wrist.

‘Victoria, please,’ Gregory rose, languishingly looked at her eyes.

Victoria couldn’t believe neither her eyes nor her ears. What was it? The country manager asked her to stay near him… It couldn’t be.

‘I’d like,’ he added, ‘to see another project. Ludmila told me about your initiatives in the field of graphic representation of the product slogan. I’d like to see it. Do you have it?’’

‘Yes,’ the fascinated girl answered, looking into the man’s eyes.

Gregory liked madly liked her look, full of interests, misunderstanding, charming and ambitious to know. What a man wouldn’t like that? There was only one problem which the man had no idea about: Victoria was looking at a woman, standing behind Gregory’s back. Only Vic knew that woman not to be seen by anyone.

The spirit stroked the man’s shoulders, shaking off invisible flecks of dust, motherly touching his back. A smile of pain froze on her lips, the glass tears were on her cheeks. Of course, there was her son before her!

Vic clearly saw every resemblance between them: they both have the same noses, lip lines and plush, eye shape and colour, more looked like European than Russian. Having completely realized that it was a spirit of Gregory’s mother, who carried her favourite son even after the death, Vic finally looked aside, sat and opened her laptop.

‘There are only sketches here they’ve not been dotted and crossed yet.’

‘Ok, I’m ready to follow your ideas.’ Gregory smiled, sitting closer to the girl.

A half of hour had passed before they finished discussing the second project sketches. Gregory made a few simple modifications more likely for form’s sake. Victoria listened patiently to the country manager’s commentaries, finishing her tea with sea-buckthorn.

‘Well, colleague,’ Gregory found himself taking the girl by the hand and smiling.

Vic looked at his smile and more and more understood that his smile had nothing to do with job. It looked like friendly but there were barely noticeable and captured shadows of affection in moderato in value of thirty-second notes.

His hand, tenderly holding her cold, pale and tired fingers just accompanied those shadows in his smile, confirming their existence.

The spirit of the old lady, being worried about her son’s fate, frowned. Vic realized the woman looked exactly at her, straight into her face. Its gaze was unbearably heavy, painful and awful.

‘The Devil’s bride…’ Vic heard the certain whisper.

The girl looked around: people wearing suits, were busy with their lunches, from time to time saying something about business; the woman-spirit studied with a cool stare her son’s hand giving its warmth to the odious girl; songs were in French.