— Stop! Where are you putting those dirty shoes on the carpet?Nadesda came to an abrupt halt, even before her foot had crossed the threshold of the reception area. In front of her, blocking the way like an insurmountable wall, stood the secretary. Her nameplate read:
“Ilona.” Nadja wrinkled her nose in disgust, as if the woman had smelled not just the icy freshness of the street, but the entire neighborhood’s garbage dump.— I have an appointment, — Nadja whispered, adjusting her old, faded scarf. — I’m here for the logistics assistant position.
Ilona scrutinized her with a look that could melt any confidence like snow in the sun.— Logistics? With that appearance, the most you can do is mop the floors. Wait here. Bella Lvowna is busy.Obediently, Nadja sat on the edge of the worn leather sofa. She felt uncomfortable, but not because of her clothes.
The coat was old, yes, but clean. The boots were polished to a shine. No, the shame came from what had become of the dream she had shared with Igor.Ten years ago, she and Igor had started their business together in a dusty garage. They carried the boxes themselves, delivered shipments in the old “Neuner.”
Then Nadja went on maternity leave, later fell ill. Slowly, she faded from daily operations while Igor carried everything alone. The money came in, but recently he returned home exhausted:— Profit is dropping, customers are leaving… I don’t understand, — he muttered, staring at the wall.
That’s why she was here now. Under a different name, in plain clothing, with a small story about difficult circumstances.The office door flew open, a folder full of papers shot out, pages swirling like snow in the air. A tall, imposing woman stepped out. Bella Lvowna, the department head,
in a Lurex dress worth as much as a small used car.— Everything finished in an hour! — she shouted into the office, then her eyes landed on Nadja.Clicking heels brought her closer, a sharp perfume scent tightening Nadja’s throat.— Who is this? — she asked Ilona, without really looking at Nadja.
— Job interview, Bella Lvowna. Nadja Sokolova.Bella Lvowna pursed her lips, painted in striking plum-red lipstick.— Sokolova… Come in. But don’t step near the desk, there are important documents there. And from you, only dust will fly.The interview lasted exactly three minutes. Resume? Not looked at.
— Salary unofficially. On paper, minimum wage; the rest in an envelope if you earn it. Late — penalty. Wrong tone toward me — penalty. Sick? Not a reason. Maternity leave? Immediate dismissal. Questions?— No, — Nadja whispered, eyes downcast, pitiful. — I need the job. Any job.
— Well, if any job works… Probation. But watch it, Sokolova. This is real logistics, not a playground. Ruin the office — out, no severance.She was given the worst spot: the darkest corner, next to the restroom. The desk wobbled; one leg rested on old delivery notes.
— Hi, — a voice whispered.Nadja turned. At the neighboring desk, between piles of files, sat a thin girl with anxious eyes. Crow’s feet around her eyes betrayed lack of sleep.— I’m Ksusha. Ignore Bella. Today she’s “nice.”— Nice? — Nadja laughed inwardly as she switched on the old, flickering monitor.
— Yesterday she threw a heavy object at a driver. Didn’t hit him, but the noise…She began to learn the job. Each day her unease grew. The chaos was perfectly organized. Shipments disappeared, fuel cards were misused, trucks supposedly filled with “premium fuel” — costs in the thousands.
A week later, Nadja understood the system. Bella Lvowna had built a small empire of lies, penalties, and fear. “Ghost drivers” received salaries that went into her pockets. The real employees trembled.— Sokolova! — Bella screamed; the office jumped. — Why aren’t you in the planning meeting?
— My report… I thought…— The turkey thought the same! Into the meeting room! And coffee! Double, no sugar.Nadja went silently. Compassionate looks met her, but no one dared intervene. Everyone had debts, children, worries.In the kitchen corner, she found Ksusha crying over her pay slip: ten thousand in penalties.
— I can’t pay the rent… — she sobbed.Nadja handed her a cheese sandwich.— Don’t cry. It will work out.Two days before the New Year’s party, the turning point came. At the glittering “Olymp” restaurant, Bella Lvowna posed like a queen, crown tilting, Lurex sparkling.
— Igor Sergeyevich is coming with his wife! — she boasted.But then the doors opened. Igor entered. And beside him, Nadja — stunning in an emerald velvet dress, hair elegantly waved, eyes calm and confident.Bella choked. Her drink splashed on her dress. She recognized the eyes she had seen every day over the old monitor.
— This is… — Ilona whispered.Igor led Nadja onto the stage. She held the microphone, looked around the room, met Ksusha’s gaze, then stopped at Bella.— Good evening. For the past month, I’ve worked by your side. I’ve seen how you work. And I’ve seen what stands in your way.
Slowly, she approached the executive desk. Bella Lvowna stood like a puppet, crown crooked, ridiculous.— Save your effort. I remember your words: “Kick this bitch out!” Now the company owner stands before you — and your clients only fear you.A USB stick slid onto the desk. Double bookkeeping,
camera evidence, driver statements — everything. The lawyers had already been informed.— Mistake… I… — stammered Bella.— You are fired, — Nadja said calmly. — With a record in the work book. And police. Ilona, accomplice.Then she addressed everyone:
— I would like to introduce the new head of logistics. Kseniya, come forward.Ksusha trembled, but Nadja smiled warmly:— You can do it. I believe in you.Security escorted Bella out of the room. She tried to scream, but music and the crowd drowned her out.Igor stepped up to Nadja, putting his arm around her:
— You were strict.— I was fair, — Nadja replied. — Sometimes you have to go down to the engine room to understand why the ship is sinking.— Fancy some fried potatoes? — Igor asked awkwardly.— Absolutely, — Nadja laughed. — And now let’s go. Ksusha will manage.
They stepped into the frosty night. Snowflakes fell large and soft. The work had only just begun, but Nadja knew: in her company, the heart matters more than the price of a suit.
