The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня

“Take off your shoes!” He said, throwing me down on the couch.

He had a couch in the hallway! And the room itself wasn't much smaller than my bedroom! "A" went into the room and, talking to someone, came back out. With the words "hurry up," addressed to the person on the phone, he handed me a half-filled glass.

“Hera will be here now; true, he is a plastic surgeon, but I'm sure he'll be able to fix your leg. You drink, it's whiskey. Go on, chug it! It's good for calming the nerves.”

I basically agreed, I read that it helps, but I haven't tried it myself. I exhaled and drank all the contents, as advised, in one gulp. The whiskey collapsed into my stomach, and a warm wave traveled through my body. I felt dizzy. He kept saying something, but I couldn't make sense of it, as if I was in a cotton cocoon. I heard everything, but for some reason I couldn't react.

“Andrew, where are you injured?” came from the entrance.

"So that's his name," I thought distantly.

“Yes, here, sitting. Eyes in a bunch. Hey!”

He waved his hand in front of my nose. Somehow I didn't care. Another man appeared in front of me, and he looked into my eyes, looked at my hands, and turned to Andrew:

"What did you do to her?"

He held up a whiskey glass. The doctor rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You better be careful. I don't want alcohol intoxication, with her chicken weight. I don't recognize you, first you hit a girl with your car, and then poison her.”

I agreed with him, but I couldn't answer. An attempted nod resulted in me falling on my side.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaimed the doctor, catching me. "Let's take her to the room."

Andrew unbuttoned my coat and, while his friend held me, took it off. Then he threw off my boots and picked me up in his arms and carried me somewhere. I couldn't fight his self-rule; all my strength was thrown into keeping awake.

I was consciously aware that my injured leg was being felt.

“Here needed bandages and ointment, and also take off stockings. I'll get what you need.”

The offer of one of the men to take something off made me come to my senses a little. I tried to crawl away from him, but it didn't work: his hand slowly crept upward, tugging at the hem. I gathered my will into a fist and pushed him away.

" That's what we're reacting to! " Andrew snorted. " I've never been able to take off stockings…

***

When I woke up, for the first time I couldn't figure out what had woken me up, or rather, which of my feelings was the primary one. My leg hurt, and the best thing to do would have been to take a painkiller. I was also thirsty and needed to use the bathroom. As I stood up, I realized something was wrong. There should have been a wall next to the couch, leading to the door even in the dark. And why hadn't I turned on the nightlight?

Limping, I walked across the room and tripped over to the curtains. It turned out that their thickness plunged the room into complete darkness. Outside the window was not an ordinary courtyard at all, but all of Moscow in the palm of my hand! I instantly realized that all the horror was not a dream, but a reality!

Forgetting all my desires, I headed towards the exit. I wondered where I had lost my bag. There should have been a cell phone in it. Maybe Alex called. I didn't want to talk to him, but it would be nice to look at the "missed" one: after all, it's not easy to fall out of love with a person and forget him.

“Awake?”

Andrew met me immediately as I left the room. He was wearing casual pants and a T-shirt and looked great. But can only imagine how I looked!

“Can I use the restroom?” I asked cautiously.

"And calmed down at the same time. Sure, come on in."

"Where's my bag?" I ventured to ask.

Andrew looked around in confusion, obviously trying to remember if he'd seen it. I exhaled dolefully and went into the bathroom. Today isn't my day: I lost my boyfriend, lost my bag, and in it, by the way, my documents! I can envision the challenge now! I'll have to run to the police, pay a fine, sign up at the MFC and manage to get there. And also SNILS, policy, travel card, cards! The telephone is gone too! And to top it all off, I looked like an avant-garde painting! Mascara managed to smudge, and in some places even mixed with lipstick.

I washed my face, took off the other stocking and threw it in the trash. The best thing for me to do now was to go home. But how? The money's in my bag, but it's nowhere to be found. There was some change in my coat pocket, though. It should be enough for the subway. If only it worked! I need to ask the landlord the address of his apartment and how far it is from the subway. Having made up my mind, I went to look for him. Or rather, to the sounds.

I found Andrew in the kitchen. Listening to a muffled jazz tune, he was cutting something.

"What time is it?" I asked him.

"Two in the morning," he answered, pointing behind me.

I turned around and saw the clock on the wall. I sat down on a high chair, right in front of Andrew.

"You're prettier without makeup," he said.

"Yeah, I saw myself in the mirror before I washed my face."

“I saw you before the smeared makeup. Sorry, but I couldn't find your bag.”

Compliment, though! That's very supportive!

“I want to go home. I just don't know the address.”

I was going to say I'd call a cab, but then I remembered my phone. Although there's some change in my coat pocket, it should be enough for the subway.

"Stay until morning, I'll drive you myself."

"I can't now, I've had a few drinks and I can't drive."

"Can I stay until morning?" I sneered.

"You can stay until the next night," I was graciously allowed.

I hummed, showing my attitude towards what was happening.

Diana broke off the engagement. Her father is my father's partner. I was asked to rid the girl of an alfonso…" At this point I burst out, clenching my fists in anger, and he continued, ignoring my indignation: "Before that, Alex was courting the chief accountant. She is a prominent woman, but more than ten years older than him.

"I'm glad you're happy with what happened," I said.

"Don't be angry, just think how fortunate everything turned out for you. Eat."

Andrew put a plate of meat, cheese, and vegetables in front of me and added a glass of wine to it. I looked at him suspiciously: what else he had mixed in....

“Drink calmly. With whiskey, it really turned out stupid. Hera told me that you already have nervous stress, and here you have a whiskey. Now you’ve slept, calmed down a little, but it’s still better to eat first.”

Almost without taste, I ate a couple of slices of meat and a tomato. It was strange: Andrew and I were seeing each other for the first time, and he didn't mind me staying the night.