My Mate is Another Woman's Fate

Konstantin I hadn't seen Olivia for two, maybe even three months. What I saw when she got into my car honestly shocked me. In all that time, she had completely transformed herself-and, in my opinion, not for the better. From a pretty, light-brown-haired girl with naturally-not small, by the way-curves, she had turned into a stereotypical escort. She had always looked more than fine, but apparently that wasn't enough for her. And what on earth was she thinking when she decided to remake herself like this? Her already full lips had now turned into two inflated mattresses sticking out of her face. Her chest used to be a solid C cup, now it looked more like a full E, ready to burst out of that so-called dress. And the dress itself-don't even get me started. I swear, there's more fabric in my underwear than in what she was wearing. She'd also done something to her face, but I couldn't even figure out what exactly. It was still her... and yet, somehow, not her. My jaw literally dropped. I stared at her, struggling to think of something to say that wouldn't sound outright offensive. What could possibly have gone wrong in her life for her to commit such an act of sabotage against her own looks? Sure, I know men who go for this sort of thing. The more curves, the bigger the better-that's their motto. "A sex machine," that's what they call girls like this. But never in a million years did I think Olivia would actually go so far as to turn herself into... this. I didn't want to be rude right off the bat, so I drove her to a restaurant - a place where we could talk calmly and put an end to our meetings. I wasn't going to fuck a freakshow exhibit. Simply couldn't. I have standards when it comes to women, and Olivia had just spectacularly fallen off my list of lovers. We sat at the reserved table, ordered, and Olivia began to chatter away about something. I wasn't interested at all; I didn't listen. The whole situation irritated me. Would she ever shut up? I lazily scanned the dining room and spotted a familiar face. Dana. Was she really here, or was I imagining things? No - she was real, sitting not far from our table with some guy. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed. Neat, elegant, nothing excessive - everything in its place. I would have gladly switched spots with the man she'd come with. Suddenly I noticed she was looking at me, and that look seemed to go right through me. I felt ashamed in front of her because of Olivia. To be honest, I'd have been embarrassed about Olivia in front of pretty much anyone I knew. I shouldn't have dragged her to the restaurant - I should've ended things on the spot and not exposed myself like that in public. Lost in thought, I suddenly realized someone had started massaging my balls. Olivia was smiling slyly, biting her lip. Oh, no. "Stop, please - we're in public," I warned. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dana's companion grab her hand and they quickly left the restaurant. Were they that worked up? Did passion boil over so fast they ran off to be alone? Frankly, I didn't care - apparently that was her man. I felt myself getting angrier. Probably because someone was about to have wild sex tonight - and it wasn't going to be with me. "Before, you didn't care," Olivia said, smiling seductively. "Well, now I do. Just so you know, this is our last meeting." "Our last?" Her expression changed. "You don't want to see my upgrade? I worked on this for you, by the way!" she protested, gesturing at her curves. "You didn't do it for me. The previous version was fine. Let's end our fling on a good note and not ruin each other's mood. Order whatever you want here - I'll pay. But I have to go. Have a good evening." I stood up from the table and headed for the exit. This circus was exhausting; I don't like long "goodbyes," she'd just start whining. "I'll be waiting for your call," Olivia huffed after me. I just rolled my eyes. ******** Dana Finally, the day had come for my internship. I was even more nervous than before the interview. I had to show myself at my absolute best - after all, he would be there. My palms were sweating, a hurricane of emotions swirling inside me. Today I chose a pencil skirt below the knee, a high-neck white blouse, and comfortable pumps with a modest heel. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and applied light daytime makeup. That's it. I'm ready. One last glance in the mirror to check for flaws - none. I exhaled deeply, grabbed my purse, and left the apartment. "Good morning, Margarita," I greeted the woman at work. "Good morning, Dana!" she replied, scanning me with a somewhat scrutinizing look. What? What?! What's wrong?! Maybe there's a stain on my blouse or the skirt is unzipped. Then, realizing I noticed her inspection, she added, "It's commendable that you adhere to the dress code." Oh! Phew! I nearly panicked for nothing. I exhaled in relief. "Here's your workstation," the secretary said, pointing to a desk with a laptop in the corner of the room. It hadn't been there last time; I hadn't even noticed it at first. "You'll be working next to me, under my supervision here. We could have given you your own office a floor below, but it's more convenient for me to give instructions directly rather than waiting for you to pick up the phone and run to the reception." Next, she briefed me on the workflow and work-related matters. A pleasant surprise was that they had their own café in the office, and meals for employees were completely free. Well, why was I surprised? A large, successful company could easily afford that and more. I sat at my desk, hoping it would become my permanent workspace, when the director walked into the reception. His expression was darker than a thundercloud. Who had managed to piss him off this morning? It was as if all the air had been sucked out again. I wondered-would I always react to him like this? "Good morning, Konstantin!" Margarita greeted. "Uh-huh, good morning," he replied, then his gaze fell on me and he added, "...lady." "Good morning," I said softly, feeling obvious embarrassment and a twinge of jealousy. After all, yesterday he had been with some other girl. That stirred the cat-scratchy feeling in my chest. But strangely enough, I didn't detect any foreign scent on him. "Margarita, could you come to my office? We need to talk," he said. "Of course. Dana, be so kind as to make us two espressos and cover for me. Answer the phone calls, write everything down, or say we'll call back," Margarita instructed, then walked into the boss's office. Well, the workday had officially begun. Time to get to it. My first task was to make coffee. Luckily, I didn't have to go far - there was a small adjoining room with a coffee machine and everything needed to serve guests and clients of the director. Just coffee? Margarita hadn't specified anything else. I placed the coffees on a small tray with a couple of sugar sticks. But there were also cookies and candies. Did they like sweets or not? Well, I personally do. Oh well, I added a small bowl of candies and cookies, just in case. I entered the office and arranged everything on the desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Konstantin watching me, and a smile flashed across Margarita's face. For some reason, I felt the need to justify myself. "I just didn't know if you like sweets... so... here..." For a few seconds, Konstantin looked at me with his green eyes. Wow, they're so beautiful! You could drown in them and never come up! Then I heard: "I do. I love sweets." Oh, and that voice! Was he really talking about cookies right now? Waves of tiny shivers ran through my whole body, and my legs refused to obey for a split second. I shook off the sudden spell and glanced at Margarita. She looked extremely thoughtful. Feeling slightly awkward, I forced a small smile and tried to leave the office quickly. I realized it was going to be harder than I had expected.