Stay with me

Chapter 15 - While I'm breathing!

But there was another difference this morning. At the corner, with his hands in the pockets of his stretched sports trousers, stood the formidable guy from yesterday. Omer looked indifferently from the car window at his square figure and reddish from rage face, and immediately threw thoughts of him out of his head.

***

"So the collection is ready?" Well, guys, you give! I am delighted! Straight energizers!

Sinan, sitting at a table in his office, tapped the victory march with the fingers of one hand on the countertop, and his broad smile shone like a powerful spotlight. Omer sat in a chair on the other side of the table. He looked calm and collected. Crossing his legs, he stroked the stubble on his chin and squinted at his friend, trying not to miss the first reaction from viewing the models he had drawn. And it was enthusiastic. Sinan, examining the drawings, shone like a polished copper pot and scattered sincere compliments. A sketch of red open shoes appeared in his hands.

- Oh! He breathed. - Omer, this is a masterpiece! This model will break all sales records. International contracts are guaranteed to us. Bellagino's new owners will still bite their elbows and scold themselves for being so short-sighted.

Omer only grinned stingily. Sinan picked up the following drawing when looking at which his eyebrows climbed to his forehead. He looked incredulously at the author of the model and again stared at the sketch.

- What is it? He asked in shock.

- What do you see? - Omer asked ironically.

"But that cannot be!" - Sinan exclaimed in disbelief.

- As you can see, it can.

Sinan pulled out the last sketch from below and laid down next to the one that so surprised him. He gazed from one to the other, and his face slowly lit up with an ecstatic smile.

- Loafers? Omer, I can't believe it! After all, you flatly refused to draw and produce low-heeled shoes. What made you change your mind?

"Not what, but who," Omer answered mysteriously smiling.

- Defne! - guessed Sinan. He, lifting his face and raising his hands in a prayer gesture, shouted: - Hallelujah !!! How many years have I tried to convince you? I used everything, - he began to take turns bending his fingers on his hand, - statistics, economic calculations, surveys among women. But you, like a mule, remained adamant. Stilettos and hairpins! Nothing else is worthy of the ideal woman who was drawn by the imagination of the genius Omer Iplikci. And what happened? How did this fragile girl manage to convince you?

"She said that after fifteen minutes of walking on high heels, the calf was starting to cramp," Omer said.

- Amazing! - Sinan spread his hands. "And when the other women did tell you this, did you not hear?"

"No," he answered honestly. "They're not Defne ..."

Sinan fell silent. He just looked at his friend with joy, slight envy and, quite a bit, with sadness. And Omer pulled the drawings to himself, trimmed them and put them in a folder. Then he looked seriously at his partner and spoke:

"I have one more conversation with you." Very important.

Sinan leaned forward and leaned on the table.

"Speak," he ordered Omer.

- It's about Seda Berensel.

- Seda? Sinan asked, and his face had subtly changed. A blissful, dreamy expression appeared on him that made Omer inwardly smile.

"Seda," he answered. - She has a younger sister, Nisa. She is soon eighteen and has leukemia.

Sinan turned white. His fingers tightly clung to the edge of the countertop.