Vitian stood in front of the stand of a well-known computer company, handing out leaflets to the right and left. Today was the last day of the exhibition, and the remaining hours dragged on unbearably long. Vitiana kept looking at the big clock above the entrance to the pavilion.

Her slim figure attracted the attention of visitors, she was smiling affably, some young people, of those that are more ambitious, sometimes tried to talk to her, but Vitian answered everyone with the same on-duty smile or held out another flyer.

From somewhere on the side, Leonids unexpectedly jumped out.

- Listen, for you there is a party task! - he quickly looked around, brought his fat, glistening with sweat face to her. Eyes behind the muddy glasses of glasses quickly blinked.

“One Japanese will come here right now: his name is Muraue Koichi: you’ll call him just Koichi-san, okay?” - he took a deep breath, turned his head around again and continued: “We want to conclude a contract with him for the supply of a batch of monitors without prepayment. You must help us. You go with him to the restaurant, then he will invite you to the hotel. ”

- To the hotel? - Vitiana rounded her already huge blue eyes.

“Well, yes, to the hotel,” Leonidov impatiently puffed. - The chief ordered to give you an advance thousand dollars.

Vitian felt him pushing the bills rolled up in her hand into her palm.

“Wow, a thousand dollars! For the three days of work at the exhibition, only fifty were paid: “Vitian felt that she was dizzy. But she was immediately brought back to reality by rude Leonidov, jerking her hand to force himself to listen.

- The chief said that you did not deny him anything, okay? If you sign the contract, you will get two more pieces and a promotion, no - you will be immediately dismissed!

- How will I communicate with him? - the girl said almost plaintively, nervously clenching her advance payment in her fist.

“Nothing, he speaks Russian,” Leonidov reassured her and again added ominously: “Do not deny anything!”.

He dived behind their stand, immediately jumped back from the other side and hissed at her: “Everything is coming! Smile when you will be introduced! "

The passage between the stands, a minute ago filled with hustling visitors, somehow cleared itself quickly, and Vitian saw a small group of people in strict black suits. The chief, the general director of their company, Konstantinov Alexey Pavlovich, was a little ahead. Now his face hardened with a strange, ingratiating smile that struck Vitian, who was used to seeing the director with an arrogant, imperious, contemptuously curving lips, but certainly not constantly bowing and not lisping.

The object of his respectful attention was a short man of an obviously Eastern type with large square glasses in a dazzlingly shiny gold frame. This was the same Japanese whom Vitian had to court the whole evening.

She came to work quite recently, less than a month ago, but already during the interview, which the boss decided to conduct in person, she learned that she would have to perform delicate tasks.

“Our company is developing rapidly, growing,” said Aleksey Pavlovich, carnivorous looking around her full breasts, flexible waist, and long legs. "We need beautiful girls like you:". After a short pause, he repeatedly dragged out a cigarette and continued: “Sometimes there are situations that can only be resolved by a pretty girl who has a good upbringing, tact and obediently obeying her boss.” A few more thoughtful puffs. “We give out fairly high compensation for particularly important tasks.” Hairy fingers, all in thick gold rings and greenish headdresses, gently injected a cigarette butt into a marble ashtray. “You will start working in the reception room, and after two weeks we have an exhibition at Krasnaya Presnya.”

The conversation was over.

Vitian already suspected that she would have to do something similar. She came to Moscow from a poor provincial town and from the very beginning she was internally programmed for any work, including "intima". The conversation with the director upset her a bit, confirming her worst fears, but, on the other hand, she felt relieved that her future had taken on relatively clear contours.

A group of top managers with the Japanese in the center was already very close to the stand, when Vitian again felt that they were pulling her sleeve. Opposite, yellow, like cheese, Leonidov's face loomed somewhere below, at the level of her belt. Hiding behind the stand, he stretched a thin zipper folder to her. “Contract!” He exhaled and disappeared.

- Connivial! Ltd! - Immediately there was a voice of the Japanese in her ear.

Vitiana smiled politely, performed something like an awkward knicksen: "Hello, Koichi-san!"

- Aah! The Japanese yelled enthusiastically. - You zinat me!

A group of top managers began to whine, as if on command, portraying unbearable fun. Aleksei Pavlovich tried his best, grunting from his laughter like a hog.

Vytiana blushed deeply, lowered her eyes, nervously shifting the contract folder from one hand to another.

The men calmed down.

- This is our best employee, Vitian! - with pride, it seemed to her, Alexey Pavlovich announced.

- Very pyriyatno! - the little Japanese man stretched out her hand, vigorously shook her cold palm in his dry, hot hand.

“Vitiana is well versed in Japanese cuisine, so we would like Koichi-san to keep you company in the new Fuji restaurant,” her boss said respectfully, imperceptibly making some strange signs to the side. - And now, we will quickly show you our stand, because the car is already waiting at the entrance.

The Japanese energetically nodded, once again, with childish amazement, he looked at the smooth curves of Vitian’s body and went to inspect the exhibits.

Alexey Pavlovich quickly approached her.

- Change clothes and go out to the third entrance. There is a silver "Mercedes", the driver's name is Misha. You say that from me, then get in the car and wait!

He looked to the side of evil and snapped: "How many times do you have to repeat, go out, do not turn here!"

The last phrase was addressed to Leonidov. He pressed his head into his shoulders and bustled into the depths of the pavilion.

Vitiana put on her best-looking coat and went out into the street.

She immediately saw the car, but did not approach her, stopping at the exit and pulling out a cigarette from her bag. Although in her life there were cases when she had to sleep with unloved men simply because it was necessary, she suddenly felt an unpleasant spasm in the lower abdomen. “Like a prostitute, for money!” Her thought burned.

Vitian abruptly threw the cigarette butt and went to the car. * * *

Restaurant "Fujiyama" turned out to be quite small, designed for fifteen - twenty visitors, not more. Two rows of niches, in each of which a Japanese table was set on a dais. Around the table there was something like a ditch into which the legs could be lowered.

The Japanese man was silent all the way to the restaurant, singing an illegible melody under his nose and occasionally giving Vitian a happy smile.

- Are you a pyravda ryubis Japanese cuisine? He asked when they were settled at the table.

“Yes,” Vitian replied quickly. - That is, no! - she frantically searched for the answer. “I don't know,” she finally admitted miserably.

“Japanese cuisine is mino-mino riba, mino-mino rice and mino-min ovosi,” Koichi-san informed her thoughtfully.

- Meat is not enough! He added vigorously.

They were silent for a while. A waitress arrived, and Koichi-san famously fired an order in Japanese. Chopped phrases in which it was impossible to make out ...