A disastrous new encounter

The Restaurant that Daniel indicated to me was located in the most upscale area of the capital. A place without much movement, completely away from the commercial part. There was only one other restaurant in that area, of the same style.

I put on a strapless dress, sober, in a dark gray blend, not too tight or too loose. On top, a black blazer, with pumps in the same color. I looked like a serious and trustworthy woman. In fact, I didn't seem... I was a serious and reliable woman. Except for the fact that she was wearing a strapless top, which no one would know about, since the coat completely harmonized her job-hunting look.

At the restaurant's main entrance, there were two valets, who received the cars and took them to I don't know where, since there was none parked nearby. There was certainly a private parking lot for customers.

The place wasn't very big, but it had huge glass windows and dim lighting inside. There didn't seem to be many people there at that time.

But going in from the front wasn't what I was going to do. I was there for a job interview, in a restaurant, for the marketing department. Strange, but at the same time I don't believe Daniel was lying.

I asked one of the valets how to access the employee-reserved area and headed there.

I was greeted by a flustered young woman. I explained that I had come for the interview. She led me down a small hallway, past the glass-enclosed kitchen, where a chef, dressed all in white, was madly preparing the dishes, assisted by two other people. I could smell the food and it whetted my appetite.

Soon I went to a small room, with two armchairs, facing a hardwood door, well painted in light varnish.

- You can wait here. I'm very busy today, because one of the employees was absent. In this case, I am performing two functions at the same time. She rolled her eyes. – Soon Mr. Ricci will arrive and will attend to you.

Before she left, I asked:

- But... Does he usually do interviews here? There isn't a... Human Resources, elsewhere? Does the office work together with the restaurant? – I thought it was so different from anything I had ever seen in job interviews.

- Mr. Ricci is very demanding... Too much. – He complained. – So before you go through HR, you go through him. If he doesn't like you, you don't move forward, honey. - He smiled. “But it's all worth going through. The salary is good. He knows how to reward the chosen well.

She turned around and I asked again:

- Hey... The vacancy is for... Marketing area, am I right?

- Yea. As far as I know, Mr. Ricci is looking to change the restaurant's logo... Innovate or something. So, unfortunately, I think it's a temporary job or paid for your production.

- I understand...

She left and I sat, waiting.

I didn't care that it was temporary or that he only paid me for creating the new logo. He must have been one of those Italians who were demanding with everything and who only trusted himself.

Five minutes later and I got up, restless. Waiting wasn't really my thing. I was an anxious person and that's why I used prescription drugs. And sometimes even they couldn't calm me down.

After half an hour, I was already walking from one side to the other and I didn't see Mr. Ricci, nor the woman who attended me. My foot was already tapping the floor insistently, with the stiletto heels echoing in the tiny room.

Impatient, I went to look for the woman. I found her on the phone. I waited for her to hang up and asked:

- Do you know if he will really receive me?

- It should be coming by now. Maybe there was something unforeseen. But... In case you can't wait, let me know that you were here.

- No... I'll wait a little longer. – After all, I had nothing more important to do, except to carry out that job interview, which, regardless of how the hiring was, I needed to.

I went back to the small room that smelled like Italian food, with two armchairs and a wooden door, completely lonely and empty.

When it was 21:00 I imagined that the man would not come again. I walked towards the other hallway and went looking for the woman again. When I went through the door, it opened and a man came out with a plate. It was all too fast and we didn't see each other, bumping our bodies. And the food ended up falling on my clothes.

In addition to being burnt, I was covered in tomato sauce. The woman came through another door, worried:

- What there was?

- I... I think my interview is over. I looked at my dirty dress on my chest.

- I... I was about to warn you that Mr. Ricci had an unforeseen event and said he wouldn't be able to come. He ordered you to come back tomorrow. That bad luck. She looked directly at my outfit.

"I'm sorry..." the man said, visibly embarrassed.

- All right... It wasn't anyone's fault. We just hit each other... An accident. It happens!

He started cleaning the floor.

- Did you get hurt? - she asked.

- No... It was warm, but the thick fabric prevented a more serious burn.

- I don't offer you the staff bathroom because it's under renovation. But you can go to the customers, no problem. No one will notice that you are not an employee because you are out of uniform and well dressed.

- I need to at least clean myself up before I leave. Thanks. I... I'll be back to talk to Mr. Ricci. - I said uncertain if I would really come back.

I zipped up my blazer, so I wouldn't show the dirt on my dress, in the breast area.

- The toilets are on your right as you exit this door.

- Thanks. And I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

- Goodnight. - She said, already hurriedly leaving.

I went through the door and into the great hall. The tables were small and held a maximum of four people. The place was very refined and even the lights were dim, giving a certain intimacy to the customers while they ate. Talk low, except for a small group of well-dressed men to one side.

I squeezed my fingers, compressing the fabric of the blazer, so it wouldn't open, since it had no buttons. At last I saw the bathroom door and entered quickly.

I looked in the mirror and saw the damage to my clothes. It was very bad luck. It certainly couldn't be reused, as it would get stained. The bathroom had three stalls with tinted glass doors. The mirror faced the glass sinks, set in luxurious white marble. The mirror covered the entire wall.

I took off the blazer and placed it on the marble counter, while I dampened a piece of paper and began to smear the stain, with no result.

I started to sweat lightly, already in agony. I pulled my hair into a bun, using my own blonde strands to hold it together. So I took some liquid soap and ran it over the fabric that sheltered my chest. The fabric, but while rubbing the sleeve of the blazer inside out hard, the red stain began to come out.

I heard the sound of the door opening and looked in the mirror who arrived. And I expected anything but a man... Or rather, less “that man”.

Our eyes met in the mirror image. I felt butterflies in my stomach and lay still. He also looked surprised, as he didn't say anything for a while, just watching me.

- I... I think you're in the wrong bathroom. - I said politely.

He was Hector Casanova. I saw dozens or hundreds of people a day. Of course you wouldn't remember me. Still, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it outside my chest. Did I fear him, even though I wasn't in his territory? Why did he make me so nervous?

- The one who doesn't know how to read is you, as I recall. – the light green eyes continued from mine.

- As you can see around you, this bathroom is female, sir.

- Who, in good conscience, tattoos “Bon Jovi” on the neck? He looked closely at the symbol I tattooed many years ago. - Tell me it was a drunkenness in adolescence... You slept with a tattoo artist and woke up like this.

- How dare you?

- Didn't you think that you would forever carry his name on your body and that when you grew up and became a woman you would regret it?

I turned to him, infuriated:

- Are you going to kick me out of the restaurant too? Oh, I forgot, you can't do that, because it doesn't belong to you. - I ironized. - By the way, did you make an appointment with someone in the bathroom? Did you get a blowjob here too?

- I don't have to pay for it... On the contrary, I've already received proposals to suck me. So believe me, it's a privilege. - He smiled mockingly.

- You are a...

- Disqualified? He continued sarcastically. - By whom? For you? Honestly, I'm not on your list to be classified or disqualified by you.

- “Unclassified” for me does not have the dictionary meaning. It's everything bad you can imagine. I hate men of your type... Who think they're superior to everything and everyone... The body is mine. I tattoo what I want and where I want. And nobody, least of all you, has anything to do with it.

- Nice breasts. He looked at me shamelessly.

- And they're not for sale. I put on my blazer, holding the opening to hide my body from his eyes. – Not everything has a price.

- If you didn't, I wouldn't be here with you, in this toilet . In other words, use the space you want, wherever you want.

- I've never met a man as despicable as you.

The door opened and there was my almost friend Anon. He looked at us and was silent for a while, before asking:

- Sir... I thought it was taking a while then... I came to check if everything was ok.

- Everything is fine here, Anon... I'm glad to hear that Heitor Casagrande likes to pee sitting down. I don't see a urinal around here. That is, “he” entered the wrong bathroom. I just don't know whether to spread the word that the great CEO of Noriah North likes to pee sitting down or the accusation of sexual harassment... Or would it be harassment? I could get rich... And make your life hell. Honestly, I think you deserve it... You disgusting bastard.

He crossed his arms and started to laugh, seeming to care little about my insulting words.

I grabbed my bag and was leaving furious when he said:

- Anything you try to do against me, I crush you like a bug... And I end your whole life: past, present and future. - Threatened me.

- My past doesn't need to be destroyed... It's gone . And I can end your gift by saying how vulgar and perverted it is. So I don't know which of us would have a ruined future. - I stopped and raised my face, staring into the green eyes firmly, while his jaw shook with anger. – I'm not afraid of you… You disqualified. And know that inside there are six pretty horrible curses.

- Dare to do anything against me.

I turned and left, saying:

- Good night, Anon.

- Did you know her before you threw her out that day? – I heard him ask the security guard as I left.

I hoped he didn't think I really knew his security guard. How could that man be so unbearable?

I left the restaurant through the front door, ready not to come back. Finding Heitor Casanova in that place already made me anxious and angry.

But now maybe he understood that accidents happened, like looking for one place and finding another…or even accidentally walking into the wrong door.

I just hoped that soon he'd forget about my image and that if one day we eventually saw each other again, he wouldn't remember that we had any misunderstandings. I didn't want to be on his disaffected list. Would he really think I could be a problem... I really was like a bug to him.

When I got home, Ben was putting away the rest of the dinner while Salma did the dishes. It was her night off, the only one the club didn't open.

I sat on the couch, tired:

- My job interview was a failure. The restaurant owner didn't go and they still poured sauce on my dress. I opened my blazer, rolling my eyes, sighing.

- I found it all very strange... A restaurant like this, so expensive, and the owner himself interviewing. – Salma said, while finishing the last dishes.

I took off my shoes and blazer and said:

- I'm going to take a shower and sleep. The night was bad.

As soon as I finished the bath, I lay down. He was using his cell phone when Salma entered the room:

- Babi, soon you'll get a job, don't worry.

- From what I understood, the one in the restaurant was free lancer _ So I wasn't too worried. But I need money. The rent is due and I won't be able to pay it.

- I have money, Babi. After I get a job you pay me.

- You know I'm very correct with that, Salma. And besides, it's not just the rent. I have my accounts... Have you ever seen the poor without account? I started laughing and so did she.

Salma lay next to me on the bed and looked at the ceiling, saying:

- I'm tired of this life of counting every penny to do something good... And just working, working and working.

- Like this?

- I already know how to make money and get rich without doing anything.

- And is there such a thing as winning the lottery?