Dana Hudson

Deceived expectations

Curving gracefully, Christy Adams stared down at her leg in amazement and indignation. With the leg itself, everything was in order, but with a translucent lycra stocking tightly fitting it, no. Directly under the graceful knee gaped a disgusting hole, with every moment more and more increasing in size.

In principle, there was nothing terrible in the hole itself - in Christie's nightstand there was always a spare pair of stockings with lace silicone garters ready, and she would not even have to change the second stocking - she, like every practical American, always bought several identical pairs, - but at the present moment she could not get to her workplace. No way.

Her boss, the formidable and ruthless Mr. Simpson, apparently watched another stupid episode of a cartoon version of himself today, because he was unhappy with everything. Everyone in their rather large department walked on tiptoe and spoke only in whispers so as not to attract the attention of the boss fraught with trouble. And when he sent Christy up to the twentieth floor to the personal assistant to the president of Enterprise Global with a prepared and already printed report, emphasizing urgently that he needed to take it urgently, it was like death to come back because of a tattered stocking. In any case, she would never have dared to disobey such a disobedience. I had to find a way out immediately.

Rounding the corner of a long deserted hallway with silver carpeting that drowned out footsteps, Christie glanced back, convinced herself of her all alone and, laying the report on the floor, she began to rapidly roll her stockings off her feet. Of course, the strictest dress code reigned in their company and walking in the office with bare legs was strictly forbidden, but her skin is tanned and if you don’t look closely, you won’t understand that she is breaking the rules.

As she prepared to pull the second stocking off her heel, Christie felt that she was no longer alone. Turning around, she blushed to the very ends of her hair: a stunning man standing behind her was carefully watching her. Despite the fact that Christy was beside herself with shame and annoyance, she nevertheless noted his high growth, and broad shoulders, and a toned athletic figure. Above the piercing gray eyes that looked at her mockingly, even, slightly raised eyebrows stood out. Thick black hair was adorned with a fashionable haircut. Features of it beautiful face reminded her of a famous movie actor from an old French film she had recently seen.

Christy jerked her stocking off her leg and, making an awkward apologetic gesture, murmured pathetically:

Here, I had to...

At the same time, she, not knowing what to do with the rolled-up stockings - there was not a single, even microscopic, pocket on her short black skirt and tight-fitting white blouse - she mechanically stuffed them into her bra: she always hid a handkerchief or a dozen dollars like that just in case. And where else can you put the necessary things if the service suit is so uncomfortable? ..

This thoughtless gesture of hers made the man narrow his eyes a little, laugh and say:

I had no idea that taking off stockings in the office in the middle of the corridor is a terribly sexy activity. And to put them in such a place for a man in general is like death. Did you set this up on purpose to drive the hell out of me?

Christie was completely at a loss and stupidly fluttered her long eyelashes. Acutely feeling the evaluator male look She blushed even more. It seemed that a little more - and it will flare up like a match. In such situations, Christy always felt like a pitiful fool and now only silently looked at the slyly chuckling stranger, trying to figure out what to answer him.

Finally, he relented and asked in a completely benevolent tone, hiding the sparks of interest in his eyes:

Where are you from, dear child?

From Burlington, Vermont. It's in the northeastern United States, where we have amazing lakes and a lot of beautiful places... - Christie did not understand why she was answering his questions, like an exemplary student in a geography lesson, but she could not stop.

Now the stranger laughed out loud. He even had wrinkles around his eyes, making his cold face with the imprint of tired omniscience younger and more compassionate.

I'm not talking about that. I mean what department are you from and what is your name?

Blinking slightly, she replied:

I'm Christina Adams, I work for Mr. Simpson. - And only then, recollecting herself, she cried out: - I'm late, I had to hand over the report for a long time! - and rushed to run, no longer looking back at the stranger condescendingly smiling after her.

The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor and spit it out in an unhappy manner into a huge gray-blue-carpeted foyer with silvery cold walls. Directly in front of her was a dark door made of real oak, leading to company reception, with a massive, venerable golden plaque bearing the names of the president and vice presidents, located on the same floor. Christie felt a chill of reverence, and she had a terrible desire to return to her department, where everything was so familiar and calm. What a blessing that she is here literally for a minute - she will only hand over the report and quickly run away.

She timidly opened the door and choked with delight - a huge round reception room with several doors opening into it was worthy of the queen herself. The mere fact that the secretary's desk was made of mahogany spoke of highest status companies where Christie had the honor of working.

Stuttering a little, she hoarsely asked the stern-looking woman sitting behind him in an expensive dark blue suit with silver piping, surprisingly suited to her surroundings:

How can I deliver the documents to Mr. Griffield?

Without honoring her with an answer, the lady gestured with a wave of her narrow hand to the last door. Trying to slip past the impregnable secretary so as not to let her notice her indecently bare legs, Christie slipped with the mouse into the office, which was inscribed: "Personal assistant to the president of the company."

Here was another waiting room, smaller, with a pretty young girl behind a large computer desk. Seeing Christie with a report in her hands, she asked sternly:

Where are you wandering, Miss Adams, the meeting is in ten minutes?! I called your department several times, and Mr. Simpson swore that he had long ago instructed you to bring the report he had prepared.

Without even trying to talk about her misadventures, Christie lowered her head guiltily.

Hearing the voices, the President's personal assistant jumped out of his office. Mr. Griffield turned out to be still quite a young, plump man with glasses and a concentrated look. Snatching the report from Christie, instead of gratitude, he hissed:

Where have you been for so long?! - and, without waiting for an answer, with a prim nod sent her back.

It was very unpleasant for Christy to feel noteworthy like a mute cog in a big machine, but, comforting herself with the pleasant thought of a pretty tidy sum coming into her bank account every Saturday, she jumped out of the office into the general reception room and almost fell - in the middle of the room stood the president himself, Philip Hamilton himself. Of course, she was familiar with him, as well as any employee of their office - his huge portrait hung on the first floor near the reception, in addition, he personally congratulated the employees on both Christmas and Thanksgiving - but to see him so close - this is happened to her for the first time.

She again remembered with horror about her bare legs and, in a semi-conscious state, she thought: should she rush back to the assistant's waiting room, pretending to have forgotten something? And wait five or ten minutes until the danger disappears?

But it was too late. The President had already looked up at her with a stately look. He was a prominent man in his sixties, with an imposing, slightly greyish mane of hair combed back, in a severe dark gray suit and with a sharp gaze of steely eyes.

Christie felt a growing noise in her ears and realized with horror that she could very well faint. Stretching her lips in some kind of wild smile, she hoarsely greeted:

Hello, Mr Hamilton! - half-consciously thinking to myself: my God, what am I talking about!

Standing at attention next to Mr. Hamilton was a vice president of human resources whom Christy had known since her days at the firm. They are all - both the president and the vice president, and the astonished similar manifestation familiarity secretary - turned towards the completely bewildered girl and silently began to examine her, like an insect they had never seen before.

Completely demoralized by such hostile scrutiny, Christy sideways, bowing comically in the Japanese manner, went around them and fell back out the door. As soon as she sensed freedom, she rushed to the elevator at full speed, not hearing Philip Hamilton ask the vice president of personnel, with sparkling eyes:

Who is this funny girl?

Mr. Moran, well aware of the chief's fondness for young girls, paused for a moment, as if remembering. In fact, having a photographic memory, he perfectly remembered all the employees he had accepted into the firm's staff. He simply did not want to give the coordinates of this sweet shy girl to the voluptuous Hamilton, but he also did not want to lose his well-deserved fame as the best personnel officer of the company. So he reluctantly replied:

This is Christina Adams from Statistics and Analysis.

The boss thought for a while, sensually sticking out a plump lower lip.

His secretary, Mrs. Kreps, who had worked for Enterprise Global for many years, grimaced imperceptibly, knowing full well what was to come, a tried and tested scenario. As usual, at the end of the day, the boss tells her to dial this girl's number and invite her to dinner. With continuation in bed, of course. For these purposes, the boss had a nice apartment nearby, in Times Square, despite the fact that his wife was considered one of beautiful women New York. Mrs. Kreps glanced surreptitiously at the smug Hamilton, shaking her head with the slightest hint of disapproval. And when he just settles down… Although in this case the proverb “the hunchbacked grave will correct” is much closer to the truth…

Satisfied with the fun evening ahead, Philip Hamilton went to his luxurious office, not forgetting to give the vice president a couple of instructions so that he would not forget who was in charge, and Mrs. Kreps was left alone. In the heat of the moment, she really wanted to make an obscene gesture towards the departed boss, but she could not afford even such a small thing - there were security cameras around, fixing her every breath. With her habitual expression of efficiency on her stern face, she began to sort out the incoming email, fussily sorting fir-tree correspondence and deleting annoying spam.

The boss, dissatisfied with her sluggishness, met Christie at the very doorstep when she ran into the department. But as soon as he tediously began to lecture about her completely unacceptable behavior, as from his office, located at the very beginning of their glass compartment, like a huge aquarium, the secretary leaned out and said that one of the directors wanted to talk to him, and he stormed off, funny trembling plump thighs.

Sighing heavily and cursing to herself this, extremely dirty, day, Christie pulled out a new pack of stockings from the table and quietly went to the toilet. Pulling them on, she removed the old pair from her bra, violently tossed it into the bin, and, fearful of running into an irritated boss again, stole back to her seat. She set to work, summarizing the reports sent from the branches, but soon realized that it was much more difficult to work today than usual. It wasn't about the reports, but about the man she'd met in the hallway today.

His ironic banter unsettled her, making her think about her own appearance. How did he say? “Did you arrange this on purpose to drive the hell out of me?” Did he take her for a sex bomb? She giggled softly. Yeah, what kind of sex bomb is she, no one will call her pretty ...

After making sure that the boss was in his office, she pulled out a small mirror and meticulously examined herself. Usually she made such an inspection for purely pragmatic purposes - to check if her hair was disheveled and if her nose was shiny. But today I examined myself much more captiously than usual.

Her eyes could even be called pretty - rather big and pleasant blue color, and when she was angry or worried, they darkened and their color became bright blue. The nose, however, let down a little - she would like it to be classically straight, and not with a slight snub nose. But smiling plump lips could decorate any candidate for the title - "Miss New York". Well, individually, her features were quite normal, but when put together, they seem to be a little dissonant with each other. Christie puffed out her cheeks, trying to see if she would get better, but such a funny chubby person looked at her from the mirror that she could not stand it and laughed silently.

And, of course, according to the law of meanness, it was at that moment that the boss looked into their room and, among the many serious, concentrated faces, immediately spotted her cheerful physiognomy.

Don't you have anything to do, Miss Adams, if you're having so much fun? Have you prepared a summary yet? Maybe then you can help Mrs. Gabrielle with analytical reference?

Recovering herself, Christie threw the mirror into the desk drawer and, blushing, set to work on the report, resolutely putting out of her mind the question that tormented her about her conformity to the amazing man she met today. It must be admitted that she quite succeeded, because it has long been known that intensive work - the best medicine from heart disease.

By evening, the summary was ready, and, having printed it, Christie solemnly carried it to her boss. He casually nodded at the person in front of him. big table a hard chair for visitors, and she plopped down on it, just in case, fingers crossed on her hand for a diversion different kind trouble.

Mr. Simpson began to study the documents submitted to him, and Christie, perched on the very edge of an uncomfortable chair, watched with alarmed eyes as he moved from the beginning to the edge of the paper. Of course, she checked the correctness of the information sent to her several times, but suddenly ... Each time, giving the boss another job, she felt an unpleasant tingling in her fingertips and was terribly worried, afraid that she would be caught on some inaccuracy.

But then he finished reading and majestically nodded his head, letting go. With a relieved heart, Christie jumped up, preparing to run away to her place, but then the boss's internal phone rang and, picking up the phone, he suddenly made round eyes and hissed, holding the microphone with his hand:

Stay!

Christie froze tensely in anticipation of another trouble, because it has long been known that how you start the day is how you spend it. It seems that this saying today is justified by one hundred percent. But the boss rounded his eyes even more, which made him look like a surprised owl, and in an extremely correct tone, in which he usually spoke with big bosses, he answered:

She is next to me. - Apparently, having received an order to hand over the phone to Christie, he beckoned her with his finger and casually put the phone in his hands.

It was very uncomfortable for her to stand in such close proximity to the disgruntled boss, but there was nothing to do, and she timidly drawled:

Christina Adams on the phone...

A restrained chuckle was heard in the receiver, and the already familiar voice of a handsome man who met her in the corridor said:

Do you remember me, Miss Christina Adams?

Christy even coughed in surprise. Under Mr. Simpson's scrutinizing gaze, it was terribly uncomfortable, even embarrassing, and she tried to answer in an extremely neutral tone:

O, sure!

Well, I suspect I left a lasting impression on you. And not too pleasant. But I can fix it. If you agree, of course ... - And the stranger fell silent intriguingly.

Christy did not know how to react to these strange troubles, so she held out in a weak voice, in her opinion, non-binding words:

Oh yes, of course, I will try ...

The stranger laughed hoarsely again, making Christy wonder what was so funny she just said.

The phone beeped resolutely, informing that one of the interlocutors had ended the conversation, and Christie, staring dumbfounded out of the window, diligently finished the sentence she had begun:

But I can't, I have classes today...

Realizing that no one could hear her anyway, she handed the phone back to the boss who was watching her with the same suspicious expression and thanked her in confusion:

Thank you Mr Simpson...

To Christy's surprise, he answered affably and in the same tone that he spoke only with the biggest bosses:

It's my pleasure. Always ready to serve...

This super-strange phrase made her dizzy, and, not understanding what kind of world she was in, Christie quietly made her way to her place and, hiding behind the monitor, thought.

So, she received a non-standard invitation to a restaurant, that is, she simply had an appointment, and no refusal was provided. This alone was already unpleasant, besides, she did not even know who it was behaving with her so categorically. Recalling the criminal reports that are transmitted every day by different channels bit her lower lip in fear. What if this handsome man invited her with some criminal intentions? It happens that people, sometimes even outwardly very pleasant, turn out to be rapists or, even worse, murderers! Christie's skin went through an unpleasant chill, but she immediately dismissed this stupid assumption. The mere fact that Mr. Simpson knows her stranger well, suggests that he can in no way be a gangster from the high road.

She came up with a crazy idea - to go back to the boss and find out who called him. But she was afraid. Who is she to ask similar questions? Besides, it would be an outrageous insubordination, and Mr. Simpson does not have her in very good standing.

Sighing a little, Christie considered what would happen if she skipped today's lectures, and decided that it would be bad. The exam is on the nose, she definitely needs to finish the course in order to get a diploma, and she is thinking about some dates. No, it won't work like that. She'll go out, meet this opinionated guy, and very independently refuse. She has her own plans for tonight. In general, gentlemen In a similar way ladies are not invited on a date. By the way, he did not invite her, but simply informed her. So she has every right to refuse.

But as soon as she thought so, her chest immediately squeezed from the consciousness of her own helplessness. She could never stand strong enough own interests. While she timidly mumbles about the fact that she has to go to class today, he will decide that this is empty coquetry and will simply put her in his car, as she had more than once happened with persistent admirers. True, her older brother Felix always helped her out before, who is well aware of the inability of her younger sister to answer “no” in time, but now her brother got married and stayed in Burlington, while she left to conquer New York.

Many are accustomed to setting goals for themselves and achieving results. Often we strive for a previously set goal, not noticing all the beauty and versatility of the reality around us, forgetting that circumstances change, and the goal itself may long lose its relevance.

And it happens that we stubbornly continue to go towards the goal, although the circumstances and situations around us offer to vied with each other to think and get out of the vicious circle of obsession with the goal.

Attention to the process, the details that make up your life...

Hello. I have a rather confused situation, but I really need advice. I'll start from the beginning.

I have never been lucky in my personal life. As a child, I was plump, insecure. Little girl. There was not even a real romance with anyone. I didn't like it at all. However, she pulled herself together and lost weight. Was with a height of 160 cm 72 kg, became 50 kg. She looked at herself with different eyes, began to like herself. But still no luck in his personal life. I live in a small town where everyone...

I have such a problem .... For example, if they give me compliments, I’m scared for some reason and complexes arise .... Or I need to go somewhere or go, the feeling of something bad does not leave me, it seems, but if something happens bad...

Although what can happen when you go to the store ..... Because of this, my friends have already begun to consider me some kind of homebody, although I really want to have fun, everything goes to the fact that I start to be afraid of people, and I am very afraid of all the bad statements in my direction .. .

Everyone knows the feeling when you are waiting for something painfully. There are plenty of options for what to expect.

Here are some examples.

The girl lives in a civil marriage and has been waiting for a marriage proposal for a year.

A married lady with children believes that her husband will stop drinking.

A student guy has been in love with a girl for several years, who has been in the friend zone for 2 years.

The employee hopes that the boss will finally notice the efforts and raise the salary.

The lover believes married man leaving the family and...

Many would like to learn how to resist manipulators. But there is one little secret. To acquire such a skill as an elegant confrontation with manipulators of all stripes, you must first change something inside yourself. What exactly? A little bit farther.

While "it" will sit inside, beautiful behavior in a collision with a manipulator will not work. “It” is like a beast escaping from a cage, pushing us to fight the manipulator. What's the beauty in a fight? A fight is an exhibition of one's own weakness and...

As soon as I stopped expecting something from myself, from life, from others and began to feel life and just live, life, in turn, revealed amazing ways for me that I did not notice, expecting something else ...

Recently, one thing happened to me that helped turn my life around 90 degrees, and miracles began to happen almost daily, often in large numbers and at a time. Many already live from such a state, for some it is natural, for me it was a discovery, honestly, I did not expect this ...

Before a person came to an appointment with a psychologist, he already had some definite expectation of what might happen during this meeting. To some extent, the presented set of expectations from psychology and psychotherapy can be considered as a special psychological test: tell me what you expect from this meeting - and I'll tell you who you are. You can make a kind of classification or identify typologies of people who are prone to certain expectations from a meeting with a psychologist and ...

Let's look at a specific pair of lovers - Vasily and Vasilisa. In these relationships, he often seeks solitude, and she wants to live in constant care for him. In this pair, Vasilisa tends to interpret Vasily's behavior as alienation and unwillingness to be intimate.

And Vasily, in turn, believes that his beloved suppresses him with her excessive guardianship. Love and care are concepts individually interpreted. And loving people differ not only in sex, but often - and in age ...

Its 2 main problems: 1) chronic dissatisfaction of needs, 2) the inability to direct his anger outward, restraining him, and with it restraining all warm feelings, every year makes him more and more desperate: no matter what he does, it does not get better, on the contrary, only worse. The reason is that he does a lot, but not that. If nothing is done, then, over time, either the person will “burn out at work”, loading himself more and more - until he is completely exhausted; or his own Self will be emptied and impoverished, unbearable self-hatred will appear, a refusal to take care of oneself, in the long term - even self-hygiene. A person becomes like a house from which the bailiffs took out the furniture. Against the background of hopelessness, despair and exhaustion , energy even for thinking. Complete loss of the ability to love. He wants to live, but begins to die: sleep is disturbed, metabolism is disturbed ... It is difficult to understand what he lacks precisely because we are not talking about the deprivation of possession of someone or something.

On the contrary, he has the possession of deprivation, and he is not able to understand what he is deprived of. Lost is his own I. It is unbearably painful and empty for him: and he cannot even put it into words. This is neurotic depression.. Everything can be prevented, not brought to such a result.If you recognize yourself in the description and want to change something, you urgently need to learn two things: 1. Learn the following text by heart and repeat it all the time until you can use the results of these new beliefs:

• I am entitled to needs. I am, and I am me.
• I have the right to need and satisfy needs.
• I have the right to ask for satisfaction, the right to get what I need.
• I have the right to crave love and love others.
• I have the right to a decent organization of life.
• I have the right to express dissatisfaction.
• I have a right to regret and sympathy.
• ... by birthright.
• I may get rejected. I can be alone.
• I'll take care of myself anyway.

I want to draw the attention of my readers to the fact that the task of "learning the text" is not an end in itself. Auto-training by itself will not give any sustainable results. It is important to live each phrase, to feel it, to find its confirmation in life. It is important that a person wants to believe that the world can be arranged somehow differently, and not just the way he used to imagine it to himself. That it depends on him, on his ideas about the world and about himself in this world, how he will live this life. And these phrases are just an occasion for reflection, reflection and search for one's own, new "truths".

2. Learn to direct aggression to the one to whom it is actually addressed.

…then it will be possible to experience and express warm feelings to people. Realize that anger is not destructive and can be presented.

WANT TO KNOW WHAT IS NOT ENOUGH FOR A PERSON TO BECOME HAPPY?

FOR K EVERY “NEGATIVE EMOTION” IS A NEED OR DESIRE, THE SATISFACTION OF WHICH IS THE KEY TO CHANGE IN LIFE…

TO SEARCH THESE TREASURES I INVITE YOU TO MY CONSULTATION:

YOU CAN SIGN UP FOR A CONSULTATION FROM THIS LINK:

Psychosomatic diseases (it will be more correct) are those disorders in our body, which are based on psychological causes. psychological causes are our reactions to traumatic (complex) life events, our thoughts, feelings, emotions that do not find the timely, right for specific person expressions.

Mental defenses work, we forget about this event after a while, and sometimes instantly, but the body and the unconscious part of the psyche remember everything and send us signals in the form of disorders and diseases

Sometimes the call can be to respond to some events from the past, to bring “buried” feelings out, or the symptom simply symbolizes what we forbid ourselves.

YOU CAN SIGN UP FOR A CONSULTATION FROM THIS LINK:

The negative impact of stress on human body, and especially distress, is colossal. Stress and the likelihood of developing diseases are closely related. Suffice it to say that stress can reduce immunity by about 70%. Obviously, such a decrease in immunity can result in anything. And it’s also good if it’s just colds, but what if it’s cancer or asthma, the treatment of which is already extremely difficult?

1

Curving gracefully, Christy Adams stared down at her leg in amazement and indignation. With the leg itself, everything was in order, but with a translucent lycra stocking tightly fitting it, no. Directly under the graceful knee gaped a disgusting hole, with every moment more and more increasing in size.

In principle, there was nothing terrible in the hole itself - in Christie's nightstand there was always a spare pair of stockings with lace silicone garters ready, and she would not even have to change the second stocking - she, like every practical American, always bought several identical pairs, - but at the present moment she could not get to her workplace. No way.

Her boss, the formidable and ruthless Mr. Simpson, apparently watched another stupid episode of a cartoon version of himself today, because he was unhappy with everything. Everyone in their rather large department walked on tiptoe and spoke only in whispers so as not to attract the attention of the boss fraught with trouble. And when he sent Christy up to the twentieth floor to the personal assistant to the president of Enterprise Global with a prepared and already printed report, emphasizing urgently that he needed to take it urgently, it was like death to come back because of a tattered stocking. In any case, she would never have dared to disobey such a disobedience. I had to find a way out immediately.

Turning around the corner of a long deserted corridor with a silvery carpet that drowned out footsteps, Christie looked around, was convinced of her complete loneliness and, putting the report on the floor, began to rapidly roll her stockings off her legs. Of course, the strictest dress code reigned in their company and walking in the office with bare legs was strictly forbidden, but her skin is tanned and if you don’t look closely, you won’t understand that she is breaking the rules.

As she prepared to pull the second stocking off her heel, Christie felt that she was no longer alone. Turning around, she blushed to the very ends of her hair: a stunning man standing behind her was carefully watching her. Despite the fact that Christie was beside herself with shame and annoyance, she nevertheless noted in a purely feminine way his tall stature, broad shoulders, and toned athletic figure. Above the piercing gray eyes that looked at her mockingly, even, slightly raised eyebrows stood out. Thick black hair was adorned with a fashionable haircut. His handsome features reminded her of a famous movie actor from an old French film she had recently seen.

Christy jerked her stocking off her leg and, making an awkward apologetic gesture, murmured pathetically:

Here, I had to...

At the same time, she, not knowing what to do with the rolled-up stockings - there was not a single, even microscopic, pocket on her short black skirt and tight-fitting white blouse - she mechanically stuffed them into her bra: she always hid a handkerchief or a dozen dollars like that just in case. And where else can you put the necessary things if the service suit is so uncomfortable? ..

This thoughtless gesture of hers made the man narrow his eyes a little, laugh and say:

I had no idea that taking off stockings in the office in the middle of the corridor is a terribly sexy activity. And to put them in such a place for a man in general is like death. Did you set this up on purpose to drive the hell out of me?

Christie was completely at a loss and stupidly fluttered her long eyelashes. Acutely feeling the appraising male gaze on her, she blushed even more. It seemed that a little more - and it will flare up like a match. In such situations, Christy always felt like a pitiful fool and now only silently looked at the slyly chuckling stranger, trying to figure out what to answer him.

Finally, he relented and asked in a completely benevolent tone, hiding the sparks of interest in his eyes:

Where are you from, dear child?

From Burlington, Vermont. This is in the northeastern United States, where we have amazing lakes and a lot of beautiful places ... - Christie did not understand why she was answering his questions, like an exemplary student in a geography lesson, but she could not stop.

Now the stranger laughed out loud. He even had wrinkles around his eyes, making his cold face with the imprint of tired omniscience younger and more compassionate.

I'm not talking about that. I mean what department are you from and what is your name?

Blinking slightly, she replied:

I'm Christina Adams, I work for Mr. Simpson. - And only then, recollecting herself, she cried out: - I'm late, I had to hand over the report for a long time! - and rushed to run, no longer looking back at the stranger condescendingly smiling after her.

The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor and spit it out in an unhappy manner into a huge gray-blue-carpeted foyer with silvery cold walls. Directly in front of her was a dark door of real oak leading to the reception of the company, with a massive, reverent golden plaque with the names of the president and vice presidents located on the same floor. Christie felt a chill of reverence, and she had a terrible desire to return to her department, where everything was so familiar and calm. What a blessing that she is here literally for a minute - she will only hand over the report and quickly run away.

She timidly opened the door and choked with delight - a huge round reception room with several doors opening into it was worthy of the queen herself. The mere fact that the secretary's desk was made of mahogany spoke of the highest status of the company where Christie had the honor to work.