To Color Your Life

Emily was returning home in high spirits. The get-togethers with Kelly went well. They recalled their school and student life, classmates, old acquaintances and new dreams. Ordinary female conversations about nothing, and about everything at once.

Emily tried hard to get her friend's details of how to behave in the workplace, information about colleagues, but Kelly brilliantly avoided answering. To all the questions she stated, "You will see for yourself", and "Everything is like everywhere else." The only person she mentioned was the senior manager.

Emily met this woman today when she was handing in her documents. Mrs. Parkinson looked about fifty, a strict pencil skirt slightly below the knees, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, and gold-framed glasses in front of her eyes.

Yes, the frame was gold. This Emily could not confuse. Since childhood, she herself wore glasses because of her myopia, and could immediately determine how much similar ones might cost. Such glasses would require the girl to spend three of her monthly salaries!

In general, the senior manager's appearance was so serious and frightening that Emily was afraid to even mentally joke about the surname of the woman which was begging to be commented on.

The girl got home safely and went straight to the bathroom. The hot water relaxed the body, which was already partially relaxed by the wine. Emily laid her head on the edge of the bathtub, closed her eyes, and smiled.

The long and busy day has come to an end. Tomorrow a new life in the publishing house would begin, where she had dreamed of working since school.

"Pharaoh" - even its name was giving goosebumps.

Emily almost fell asleep in fantasies when a cell phone caught her attention. The ringtone was standard, which meant an unknown number was ringing.

Who could need to talk to her at eleven o'clock at night?

The image of the morning stranger came to her mind. No way! He's not brazen enough to call an unknown girl at a time like this, is he? He will dare?

She stared at the display, expecting the caller to cancel the call, but the caller was persistent.

"Hello," Emily replied and was embarrassed by her own voice. She was so relaxed that she could now resemble those who charge money for their nightly calls.

There was silence on the other end of the line. The girl straightened up in a more chaste position. The splash of water came out louder than she bargained for.

"Hmm, -hello?" she repeated in her normal voice.

"Wow, but I really thought I was in the wrong place. You have not cheated this time, Miss Hayes." Yes, it was him. Emily rolled her eyes. Who would doubt that?

She ignored his comment and went straight to the point, "How's your car, uh, Mister...?"

"Oh, the car is fine," the show-off ignored Emily's obvious attempt at exchanging mutual greetings, "It's like brand new again!"

"And how much do I owe you?" she asked the worst question.

The man announced the amount. For a moment it seemed to Emily that her bathroom door had opened straight to Antarctica, and everything would soon be covered with ice. With such a debt, she won't even have enough for water now, let alone the bread!

"What the f-"

"Yes, that's right, and I just wanted to say that too!" the man interrupted her objective assessment of the situation, "You shouldn't have refused to marry me this morning. Well, at least I wanted it back then."

Emily bit her lip to avoid repeating what she had nearly said earlier. Was he still joking? Thinks it's funny? Yes, she was ready to cry bloody tears!

"Don't you agree anymore?" she asked instead.

"Have mercy, Miss Hayes!" the man continued in his joking manner, "Since then I've learned a lot about you. You are a liar who does not keep promises, you are a disgusting driver, and you also have huge debts. I'm afraid to think what problems would arise if we had to divide the property! No, I guess I won't risk it."

"You see how great everything worked out." Emily was getting angry. She really wanted to express all her new thoughts on his account, but the amount for the car with three zeros was a good deterrent. "I just hope you are not one of those who will pursue your debtors with a gun in your hands? At the moment I do not have such an amount, but in the near future I will definitely transfer everything to the account that you will provide to me."

Yes, that's right. She would rather take an extra part-time job, borrow money from her grandmother. Hell, she's even ready to go on a date with Kevin, just to get rid of the dependence on this tyke faster!

"Oh, Miss Hayes, common! I'm not some kind of maniac to pursue you! If I were like that, I would show up directly to your work! You know, public opinion and all that. Everyone would ask what connects you with such an attractive man. And I would have to tell everyone about how you left me, and now I have to be compensated for moral damage. If I were a maniac, I would do just that."

If this bold face was right here now, Emily would drown him in the bathroom without a twinge of conscience!

"Mister, thank you for the information. It's late, I'll let you know when I have collected the required amount of money. Good night," the girl replied coldly. No, she will not lead to his provocation.

"Oh, you're right. Sorry, I haven't noticed that it's been so long. Good night Miss Hayes," the non-maniac replied in a perfectly normal tone.

What, is that all? No extra jokes? Before Emily had time to think, he added,

"Be sure to take two blankets."

"What for?"

"So that it is not too cold in a lonely bed, since you have missed your happiness. Oh, and don't sit in the water for a long time, otherwise your toes will wrinkle."

The girl expressed a long tirade of obscene words to the phone rings.

. . .

Emily got ready for work in the right way. Since Kelly did not bother to talk about her team, the girl decided to focus on Mrs. Parkinson. The Pharaoh Publishing House was a well-known and presentable place, in which a certain dress code had to reign.

At least that's what Emily thought. She pulled her brown hair into a tall, neat ponytail that hung just below the shoulder blades. The sheath dress fit perfectly on the figure, without focusing on the attractive curves. She emphasized her brown eyes with a light dab of mascara on the eyelashes, the almost colorless lip gloss was barely noticeable. Her glasses were far from Mrs. Parkinson's gold rim, but their shape was perfect for the heart-shaped face of the girl.

She got used to her accessory so much that she could transform from a cute student into a strict teacher, using only facial expressions. The grandmother complained that it would be better for Emily to become an actress, then there would be at least some good from her appearance.

Emily did not consider herself a beauty (with which her grandmother strongly disagreed), but the girl knew and was able to emphasize her merits and hide minor flaws, which were often caused by an extra slice of pizza or cake before bed.

She got out of the taxi and walked confidently to the door of the main building of the Pharaoh Publishing House.

The clatter of heels duplicated the ecstatic beats of the heart, evoking both timidity and anticipation.

"Miss Hayes, you arrived a little earlier than I expected," Mrs. Parkinson met her in the foyer, "I need to bring our department documents to the main office. You can wait for me here or go outside. The entrance to our department is at the other end of the building, so you still need to walk a little."

Emily nodded back and sighed as the figure of the general manager disappeared behind the elevator doors. Mrs. Parkinson did not comment on the girl's appearance in any way, only slightly arched an eyebrow before the mask of severity returned to her face.

Now Emily could finally look around. If it was just the foyer, what did the main departments look like?

In the center of the foyer, there was a small fountain shaped like an oasis. In the middle of the fountain, on a small hill, stood the figure of Osiris, the ancient Egyptian god, two human heights tall.

The walls were decorated with bas-reliefs reminiscent of rock paintings. The tiles on the floor were full of thematic patterns. The impression was that the visitor was transported to another era.

The bookcase in the waiting corner was stylized as a pharaoh's pyramid, inside of which there were bookshelves, and the tables were located in the same place along the perimeter. You could go inside this pyramid, take your favorite book, and enjoy reading.

Emily would very much like to do this, and in order not to seduce herself with such a tempting desire, she decided to go outside and wait for Mrs. Parkinson there.

The weather was wonderful. Same as it was yesterday. Fortunately for the girl, nobody ruined this morning.

She watched the cars heading towards the underground parking lot or, conversely, driving back. At that moment, loud music was heard from around the corner, and then its source appeared - the black Maybach with a roar turned to the building and rushed past.

Ha ha ha. Emily fought back a nervous laugh. No, can't she be SO lucky? But her excellent memory only confirmed the guess - the number of the car coincided with the one that the girl hit yesterday in the parking lot.

There was a sharp squeal of brakes, and again the sound of the engine. Maybach rolled in reverse and stopped in front of the entrance to the building. The driver leaned out the window and waved his hand, "Oh, Miss Hayes, good morning! How did you sleep? Are you cold?"

Emily turned to the side, pretending that it was not her and in general she was not here. Ignore him, just keep ignoring him.

There were about five meters between the building and the road, and she could not say that she did not recognize the guy. So be it. He will immediately understand that no one intends to continue the conversation with him.

It was quiet for half a minute, and Emily hoped he took her thick hint, but no. The door of the car barely audibly clicked, but for the girl, it sounded like BOOM!

Why the hell did he get out of the car?!

With bated breath, she stared at the approaching impudent man, whose face was clear: he was in tune for a long and consistent conversation.

Such a beautiful morning was ruined again!