I came to a corporate party like Cinderella to a ball and danced tango with my bosses. Timur seemed to me like a fairy-tale prince, and he mistook me for an escort.
We both realized we’d made a mistake, but we didn’t admit it to each other. We enjoyed the game—but one night, Timur stepped out of his room for a moment and disappeared without a trace.
Timur emerges from a jeep and freezes in the light of the headlights. I get out of the taxi, squeezing my bag in my hands.
— Darling, — Timur pulls a red lace piece of lingerie from his pocket — this isn’t a crystal slipper. How many girls do you think I’d have to review to have them try it on if I put out a call?