On December 20, the sun was shining in Istanbul, not at all like winter.
"Even it's on my side!" - thought Deniz Tranba and smiled broadly.
Throwing back the flaps of his impeccable tuxedo and placing his hands in his trouser pockets, he stood on the balcony of the Ciragan Palace and gazed at the blue waters of the Bosphorus. Behind him, wedding agency workers were finishing the decoration of the hall. Garlands of white lilies and pale pink roses adorned the railing of the stairs and balconies. Bouquets of the same flowers were placed on tables covered with snow-white tablecloths and hung in a cascade over the cream marble columns.
Crystal lamps were everywhere. Their large beads refracted light and shone with a brilliant shine. An orchestra was tuning its instruments in the corner. In the hotel kitchen, dozens of chefs worked on delicious dishes. A five-tiered cake awaited its turn in a huge refrigerator, looking more like a work of art than a confection. And upstairs, in one of the luxurious rooms, the eccentric bride dressed in an amazing dress from the famous Parisian couturier.
The worries that a decent wedding cannot be organized in a month turned out to be empty. Deniz arranged everything. And now, standing on the balcony and breathing in deeply the cold, sea air, he was proud of himself and smiled with satisfaction. The Shrew was tamed and in an hour she will become his wife!
Omer had already paced the living room for half an hour. Nervously adjusting the bow tie and the belt on his trousers, he glanced at his watch and frowned. Stopping near the stairs, he looked up and called loudly:
- Defne! Where are you? We are late!
The silence was the answer. Sighing, he ran up the steps and entered the room. Defne in a purple evening dress was sitting on the bed and holding matching shoes in her hands. She looked in front of her and bit her lip. Omer came over and squatted down in front of her. Adjusting the necklace of fire opals on her chest, he turned to frown and asked:
- What's the matter?
"I'm afraid," she replied.
Oh no! Again his wife came up with a problem out of the blue. Omer stroked the spot on the neck where the pulse was beating with his thumb and inquired.
- What?
- There will be your and Iz's old acquaintances and friends whom I do not know.
- I'll introduce you, - promised.
- What if they don't like me, and they will laugh at you for the fact that Omer Iplikci married a girl, not from his circle?
Omer took the shoes from her hands. Raising the hem of the dress, he carefully put them on her graceful feet and raised his face to his wife. Mechanically stroking her thin ankle, he spoke:
- Defne, again? I thought you already got rid of those thoughts. All these conventions about people of the same circle are such nonsense. We are not living in the eighteenth century. Worthy people will never talk about such a topic. And if there are such snobs, what do we care? Let them talk, and I will enjoy the company of my beautiful wife.
Defne sighed.
"You don't understand what it's like to feel unworthy. You have always been at the top, you have always been proud ... and now you can afford such a luxury - not to pay attention to evil tongues.
"And you can," Omer said confidently. - Because the owners of these very evil tongues do not stand a fingernail on your pretty little finger, - he kissed that very little finger and ordered: - Get up and let's go to the wedding. They are waiting for us and if we don't hurry, we will be late. But this will be unkindly to the bride and groom.
The Iplikci couple was one of the last to arrive at the wedding, and when they entered the hall, it was already filled with guests. The appearance of Omer and his wife did not go unnoticed. Childhood friends, classmates, and old acquaintances came up to say hello and take a closer look at the girl whom the perfect Iplikci married. Omer proudly introduced Defne to them.
She was a little embarrassed, blushed sweetly, and smiled radiantly, at the sight of which the eyes of the men flashed with admiration. But some of the women experienced opposite emotions and looked like they had drunk vinegar. When having exchanged a couple of phrases, Omer and Defne moved away from the company of old acquaintances, one of the girls twisted her lips that were too plump, like a duck's beak and sarcastically remarked:
- And what did Omer find in her? Viewed from the side - nothing special. Plus, I heard that she was from a poor family and worked as a waitress.
- Isn't beauty a feature, - looking at the trail of the receding couple, a man in black, shaved bald, mocked her. - Lucky Iplikci! He saw a real diamond. I wouldn't breathe around a wife like that. I only would admire her by days and nights.
- Oops, - the girl winced. - Stop it! I'm going to vomit now from your sugary speeches.
- That's why you are still not married, - the man did not remain in debt. - Who wants to live with a woman who is constantly nauseous?
Omer and Defne did not hear this skirmish. They went to their table, at which Ahtem and Laura were already sitting. The other two chairs were empty. After greeting her friends, Defne asked:
- And where are Sinan and Seda?
Ahtem pointed his head to the arch entwined with flowers and, winking, answered:
- Prepare to witness the goodwill of those entering into marriage.
"Yes," Laura supported him, laughing. - And then suddenly Iz will refuse and say - there are no witnesses, there was nothing.
"She can," Omer agreed, and pushing a chair for Defne helped her to sit down.
- Why did you take so long? Laura asked. - The ceremony will begin now. The steward has already gone to fetch the bride and groom.
Omer, sitting down in his seat, looked sideways at his wife and replied:
- Defne had another attack of self-doubt.
- What? - Laura asked, and Defne looked at her husband reproachfully.
But Omer ignored her gaze and replied:
- She decided that since she was born without a silver spoon in her mouth and grew up in a simple neighborhood, these circumstances may attract the ridicule of my school friends on my head.
- I do not believe it! - Laura exclaimed and turned to Defne. - He's kidding, right?
Defne herself looked at Omer in amazement. What is he doing? Why tell her friends about her fears? But he didn't seem to notice her gaze. He calmly examined the hall and nodded at the greetings of his acquaintances.
- Defne, have you thought like this? - Laura did not stop and she was forced to answer:
"But it's true. Omer and I are, so to speak, from different weight categories.
"Nonsense," the Countess answered confidently. - There are only two differences between people - you are human or you are rubbish. You are human, Defne. Your kindness and mercy put you ten steps above the "noble" snobs. Trust the girl who has seen hundreds of them.
Defne didn't have time to answer. The orchestra began to play a solemn melody and the bride and groom appeared at the top of the stairs. The guests got up from their seats and the audience burst into applause. Defne also clapped her hands and smiled, and scrolled Laura's words in her head. A born countess who was human and not rubbish and had seen enough evil in her life to appreciate the good.
Iz felt like a princess. In a white satin dress covered with Swarovski crystals, the train of which stretched behind her and smoothly slid down the steps of the stairs, she walked arm in arm with the best man in the world. He was a grumpy, and also an ironic impudent, and did not always play fair, but he was hers, and she loved him more than life.
Deniz was delighted. He led the most beautiful bride in the world to the altar. The girl who brought him back to life. Yes, at times she was unbearable, absurd, malicious, but she is his soul and he would not have exchanged one single lock of hair of her for all the money in the world.
Throughout the ceremony, the bride behaved with the dignity of a queen, and only a mischievous smile reminded Deniz that his Iz was in front of him. Having received the marriage certificate from the hands of the registrar, she did not giggle and shake it in the air, but casually gave it to the groom. It was he who lifted it high above his head, and then hid it in the breast pocket of his tuxedo and, bending over, kissed not the bride, but his wife. Not chastely, on the forehead, but, on the lips, hot and bold. And he didn't care about the broken traditions. Deniz was going to get the most out of this wedding.
During the banquet, champagne flowed like a river. Tables were full of treats, and efficient waiters brought more and more. Omer vigilantly watched the contents of the dishes and when he saw, among other things, eggs, he immediately sent the waiter to another table. Defne was embarrassed and whispered in his ear that they were not alone and the others might not like such decisive actions. But her husband only smiled, and friends together persuaded her to calm down. The food on the table is enough to feed a small African country, not just six people. Among so many delicacies, the lack of eggs will not upset anyone.
After the banquet, the master of ceremonies announced the first dance of the bride and groom. Seda picked up the train of the dress and tossed it over Iz's hand. Deniz put his arms around the bride's waist, she put her hands on his shoulders, and they slid on the parquet polished to a shine. The orchestra played a slow waltz and from the side, it seemed that the bride and groom were hovering above the ground. They did look up into each other's eyes, and with every minute the flame flared up more intensely.
Other pairs appeared on the floor. Omer, pulling Defne to him, gently swayed her with the melody.
- You specifically told them about my fears? She asked.
"Yes," he replied. - If my words do not work on them, then maybe you listen to others, - Omer bowed his head and looked into her eyes. "I don't want you to be upset about any nonsense. I want you to be calm and happy. After all, everything is fine with us. We love each other, we are expecting a child. We have a wonderful home and a job we love. Our companies are successful, family members are healthy, friends are doing well. What else do you need to be happy? - He smiled slyly. - Also, we will run away to Bora Bora for a week and enjoy the sea and the sun.
- Ay, how I want! - Defne exclaimed. - I will flop for hours in the water, overeat fruit and drink cocktails. Non-alcoholic.
"My prosaic darling," Omer laughed and pulled her closer to him. He knew that to dance like this, hugging tightly meant to behave almost on the verge of decency, but he didn't care. He is not going to hide his feelings for his wife and pretend to be an indifferent and imperturbable robot. He will walk along this line and greedily drink the pleasure named Defne.
She leaned back and looked into his eyes. Her face became serious and her gaze deep.
- I'm also going to admire the sunsets and gaze at the stars.
Omer wanted to tell her that her eyes were brighter than the stars. That he agrees to look forever into their honeyed depths. That he doesn't care where to be, if only with her. But he just sighed and whispered in his ear:
- I'm with you.
Defne reached for his ear and quietly replied:
- And without you, the stars are not visible.
Nearby, Ahtem was leading Laura in the dance. He carefully hugged her around the waist and was afraid to make an unnecessary movement so as not to catch the healing wound and cause pain to his beloved. She's already endured too much of it in her life. Mental more than physical, but he knew that the soul hurts more than the body and no medicine that can calm this hellish burning sensation. It could only be cured by another person, and he was going to be such medicine for Laura. He would love her and care. He will give her a home that the two of them will fill with comfort, laughter, and the stomp of children's feet.
They will never be apart for more than one day again. For seven years, the limit of separation and grief has been completely exhausted.
"Ahtem," she called.
- What, darling?
- I'm tired of this crowd.
He looked into her face. It remained serenely unperturbed, but a crafty light burned in her eyes.
- And what do you suggest? - the corner of his lips twitched in a reciprocal, conspiratorial smile.
- Let's run away? She suggested and bit her lower lip.
- And the cake?
- I'll make you the most delicious tomorrow.
- I agree.
Ahtem looked around. Nobody paid any attention to them. Everyone watched with keen interest the bride, who was about to throw the bouquet. An impressive crowd of girls gathered around her. Their eyes burned with excitement, some even took off their shoes and prepared to jump. Ahtem took Laura by the hand and led her to the exit from the hall. He was on the side of the crowd of girls. They were detained for a couple of minutes by Sinan and Seda. The first, winking, asked where they were going.
"Nobody canceled the working day tomorrow," Ahtem answered.
- Oh, yes! - agreed Sinan. - You're right. I can't imagine how to wake up in the morning.
"It's very simple," Seda joked with her fiancé. - We are disappearing right now, going home and tomorrow morning - fresh like cucumbers.
- And the cake? - Sinan asked plaintively, and Laura and Ahtem burst into laughter.
- What? Sinan looked from one laughing face to another.
"When I offered to run away, Ahtem asked the same question," Laura explained.
- And how did you persuade him? Seda asked vividly.
- I promised to make him a cake tomorrow just for him.
- Oh! - The girl widened her eyes and turned to Sinan: - Dear, let's wait for the cake, and then disappear.
All four laughed merrily. Laura's peripheral vision noticed that something was flying at her. She instinctively put out her hands and the lovely bouquet of the bride fell right into them. Applause sounded all around, the girls moaned with disappointment, Iz smiled with a gleeful smile, and Laura looked at the flowers in her hands in confusion.
- You see, - Ahtem bent to her ear, - fate itself tells us that we are doing everything right.
Omer did not leave Defne a single step throughout the evening. With a proud look, he held her by the waist and presented her to old acquaintances only as "my beloved wife." Men complimented her, older ladies called her cute, and unmarried girls scrutinized her from head to toe. But Defne paid no attention to them. After all, Omer's gaze shone with admiration and love. This was the most important thing. The rest is nonsense.
Whispering to her husband that she would leave him for a while, Defne went to the ladies' room. It was empty and she breathed a sigh of relief. The crowd of people pretty much tired her today and she wanted to be alone for a while. While putting lipstick on her lips in front of the mirror, Defne heard the creak of a door opening and met the silicone girl in the mirror reflection. Remember that Omer introduced her as Eileen. She had huge breasts, which could hardly be contained in the bodice of the dress, unnaturally protruding buttocks and lips so voluminous that they seemed to burst now. Defne imagined such a picture and squeezed her mouth so as not to laugh. The girl measured her with an appraising glance and spoke:
- Does it seem your name is Defne?
- Defne Iplikci, - hiding the lipstick in an elegant clutch bag, confirmed Defne. - Are you Eileen?
- Eileen Osman, - she answered pathetically. - My father is from the Ottoman family and the owner of a billion-dollar corporation.
- I can't boast of the same, - Defne arched an eyebrow mockingly.
- Exactly. One can immediately see that you are from the bottom, - the girl tried to scornfully twist her mouth but it turned out to be a duck grimace, which amused Defne even more. Eileen from the Ottoman family, meanwhile, continued: - Therefore, I do not understand how someone like you could catch Omer Iplikci?
- Eileen, how long have you known Omer? - Defne asked, looking straight into her eyes.
- Fifteen years. We studied together at the Italian Lyceum.
- Then you should know - it is impossible to catch Omer Iplikci. He does not give in to tricks and always makes decisions himself.
Defne smiled at her, nodded with dignity, and left the room. Closing the door behind her, she stopped and shook her head. That's stupid! She was worried that Omer's old acquaintances would not like her style and manners. Yes, these noble dummies themselves need to be sent for re-education.
"Good idea," Defne muttered. - We need to give grandmother the idea of opening such an institution.
- Why did you take so long? - Omer appeared as if from under the ground in front of her. - I started to worry. Does anything hurt? You are not sick? Do you feel dizzy?
Studying her face intently, Omer touched her forehead with his palm.
- Doesn't hurt, doesn't feel sick, doesn't spin, - Defne bravely reported. - We talked a little with your former classmate, that's why I was late.
- With whom? He frowned.
- With Eileen from the Ottoman clan, - she mimicked the voice of a narcissistic girl.
A deep crease appeared between Omer's eyebrows.
- Did she offend you? He asked anxiously.
- No, - Defne answered cheerfully and took her husband's arm. - Quite the opposite. She demonstrated that education and intelligence do not depend on social status.
"She was always a fool who demonstrated her superiority to everyone." He covered her fingers on the crook of his elbow with his palm and led his wife to the tray with drinks. - But still, what did she tell you?
- She asked how such an ordinary girl could catch Omer Iplikci. Omer stopped. His eyes lit up with anger. But Defne pulled him forward.
- Oh, leave her! - She summed up. - Let her spit poison. What is it to us? Laura is right - there are only two differences between people - you are human or you are rubbish.
- My wise wife, - Omer kissed her forehead and offered: - Maybe we go home? I'm tired of this crowd.
Defne shot an appraising glance from the sides. The bride and groom fed each other with cake and would not have noticed a meteorite falling into the center of the hall. She quickly turned around and pulled her husband to the exit:
- Let's go!
- Wait, - Omer with a peripheral vision noticed Eileen appearing. She approached a small group of graduates from the Italian Lyceum. Smiling softly at Defne, he asked: - Wait here for me a minute.
- Eileen, are you wondering why I married Defne? - Omer spoke softly, but there was something in his voice that made the group fall silent and turn their faces towards him. Eileen turned pale and looked like she had been hit by lightning. Omer looked at her point-blank and minted the words: - I will answer. I married Defne because I love her. This is the only reason. Defne ... she's real. Her heart is as beautiful as her face. But yours seems to have spread out and flooded the soul along with the brain, - he measured the young woman with a disdainful look and nodded to the others: - A nice evening to you. See you.
Classmates stood with open mouths. The first to wake up was the baldheaded man. He clapped his hands and said:
- Bravo, Omer! - He leaned closer and added quietly: - I envy you, friend. Take care of your wife. There is one in a million such women.
Defne watched her husband from the sidelines and unconsciously fingered the fire opal beads with her fingers. As promised, Omer bought the necklace. It went so well with the long, elegant, purple dress that Defne didn't hesitate to wear it as the only piece of jewelry. Now touching the cool stone was soothing her.
- What an amazing necklace.
Defne shuddered and looked around. Standing beside her was an impeccably dressed middle-aged woman. She had a royal bearing and an enigmatic smile.
"Thank you," Defne smiled back. - My husband just fell in love with this necklace.
"Not surprised," the woman said. - Fire opals are mesmerizing. But be careful. They add vitality to the strong, and they push the weak to death.
While the dumbfounded Defne collected her thoughts, she nodded goodbye and left. At that moment Omer returned.
- Who is she? Defne pointed to the woman.
"I don't know," he carefully examined the slender figure and hair touched by gray. - What did she want from you?
- Yes, so ... nonsense, - Defne answered and shook her head. - She said that opals bring misfortune to weak people.
Omer frowned. This is the second time in several days he hears these words. And he doesn't like them. He doesn't like it at all. He looked at the stones mysteriously shimmering against a dark purple background. They looked like a frozen flame. The same alluring and eye-catching.
- You're right, love, - he spoke and took Defne's hand. - These are all stupid prejudices. Opals are so much like you. Can something as alive and warm as you bring misfortune? No, and no again! Forget this nonsense and let's went home, - he bent down to her and whispered in her ear: - I want to close the door and admire your beauty on my own.
- Only to admire? Defne smiled.
In response, Omer bit his lower lip and burned his wife with a hot look.
***
The bride and groom also fled. Leaving the guests to have fun and empty the trays of champagne, they, holding hands, slipped out of the luxurious banquet hall and rushed upstairs to the room for the newlyweds. The train of the wedding dress stretched behind them and clung to the steps.
- Do not rush, or I will remain naked, before reaching the room, - held her husband Iz.
He stopped and gave her a burning gaze.
- If we did not risk meeting strangers, such a sight would be a pure thrill. But, - he picked up the train and, throwing it over his arm, powerfully finished the phrase: - such a thrill only for me! And hurry up! Otherwise, I will explode with desire and disgrace myself.
- You? - Iz laughed. - I would like to see it!
"Not in this millennium," Deniz replied and stopped in front of the gilded white door. Opening it, he lifted his wife in his arms and entered the room.
They might as well have rented a hut. Expensive paintings, handmade carpets, lamps covered with silk shades and crystal chandeliers - everything melted into a fiery whirlwind. Getting rid of expensive clothes, they tore them off the impatiently burning bodies and threw them disrespectfully on the floor. Cursing, Deniz got confused by the many buttons and clasps of the wedding dress and ended up just yanking at the satin fabric and ripping it. Swarovski crystals rained down on the floor. She looked with regret at the shapeless fabric at her feet and said:
- Our daughter will not be able to wear my dress for her wedding.
- So we will have to give birth exclusively to sons, - said Deniz and pushed her onto the bed. He fell from above and groaned: - Allah, how cool it is to make love to your wife!
Sinan and Seda were waltzing in the alley of the park of the Ciragan Palace illuminated by ancient lamps. They laughed fervently and their laughter echoed over the dark waters of the Bosphorus.
- Do you know why I love you the most? The girl asked, looking the man in the eye.
- For what? He asked, and a hoarse note appeared in his voice.
- For making me laugh.
Sinan stopped. He put her hand on his chest and, pressing it with his hand, promised:
"I swear I'll make you laugh every day all our lives.
Seda smiled and pressed her forehead against his.
- And I will laugh and fall in love with you more and more every day.
Ahtem led Laura to the door of her house. She smiled timidly and asked:
- Won't you come in?
He shook his head.
- No, my love. Not now.
- Why? She asked again and her cheeks lit up with a blush.
"I'm holding on with the last bit of strength. And you are so beautiful today...
- Ahtem, we are adults and we can....
"No," he looked into her eye, and from the burning desire in them, she caught her breath. But the voice sounded firm:
- We will have everything right. I'll be patient.
Laura put her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his broad chest. Her words touched his heart:
- I love you...
Moonlight poured into the room through the windows. It filled the room with a pale, ghostly mist and lit a mysterious fire in the large opals of a necklace lying on the dressing table. The core of the stones sparkled. They were reflected in the mirror and made the stones look like eyes. These eyes were looking at the bed. There, over a fragile woman, a man leaned on his arms. He moved smoothly and powerfully.
Muscles on his back and arms bulged beneath his skin and let the moonlight play on them in satin sheen and matte shade. The woman under him threw her head back and her hair flowed like red silk over the pillow. Sighs and soft moans escaped from parted lips. The man caught them with his mouth, and they melted into kisses. He groped for her hands and closely intertwined thin fingers with his, long and strong.
"Omer..." she called softly.
- What? - he made a deep push and froze.
- I am nothing without you ...
Omer lifted their braided hands above her head and pressed them against the pillow.
- Open your eyes, - he asked Defne and looked at her with a glance fogged with pleasure. - You are my soul!
He made another smooth push and Defne arched. Stars flashed in her eyes and reflected in Omer's dilated pupils.
***
Omer plunged headlong into the drawings of the spring collection and involuntarily jerked when the intercom rang on the table.
"I'm listening," he hung up unkindly.
"Mr. Omer," Derya's voice came from it. - I know that you are working on sketches, but Nazlican has an urgent conversation with you.
"Let her in," he said and sighed. That's always the case - somebody interferes with his thoughts and moods. Then look for them as the wind in the field.
A short girl entered the office. Her hair was pulled back into a thin pigtail, her eyes looked guilty, and her lips stretched out in a smile, exposing the iron braces on her teeth. In her hands, she held a stack of folders.
- Come in, Nazlican, - Omer told her. - What is your question?
The girl stopped in the middle of the office and mumbled:
- Mr. Omer, I have considered the CVs sent for the vacancy of your assistant, and have chosen several candidates from them. Would you like to interview them yourself?
Omer frowned and rubbed his temple. Damn! An assistant. He completely forgot that Derya is quitting and he has to work with a newcomer. And this is a period of grinding and jamming in work, which he could not stand. And even now, when the affairs of Sapphire were added to the concerns of Passionis. And work on the spring collection is in full swing. And also - their first pregnancy with Defne. He was not going to miss a single important moment from this priceless time.
- Nazlican, I have no time for interviews. Conduct them yourself.
The girl nodded at the folders in her hands.
- Maybe at least look at the dossier.
"No," the boss said. "I trust your professional instinct.
- Do you have any special requests? - Nazlican asked.
- Let him be quick and have brains available, - Omer sighed. - The rest is not important.
- Okay, Mr. Omer. Then I will contact the former employers of the applicants, clarify the recommendations, and invite the girls for an interview on Monday.
- Invite, - Omer nodded. - From Monday to January 7th I will not be at Passionis. I will have a request for you - you'll put the new assistant in the course of our work yourself. So that by my return, she has to be turned from a confused calf into an adequate employee.
Nazlican smiled and promised:
- I will do my best, Mr. Omer.
"You can go," the boss ordered.
The girl left the office. When the door closed behind her, Omer leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. A dreamy smile appeared on his face. In just six days, he and Defne will find themselves in paradise. Together, forgetting about all the affairs and worries, they will enjoy the ocean, the sun, and each other. But in order not to twitch from phone calls in paradise, now you need to work.
Omer loosened his tie and, pushing aside the drawings, pulled a folder with documents towards him.
***
Defne was extremely tired. Two meetings in a row exhausted her mentally and physically. Asking Alina to make tea, she sat down in a chair and stretched her legs in front of her. She wished she could have a hot bath and a bowl of ice cream. Chocolate. She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily.
- Ta-da-da-dame! Your sweet Korish has come!
Defne twitched and, straightening in her chair, stared at the intruder.
- Koray! How can you be so noisy? I'm pregnant! - Indignantly she fell upon him.
"That's why I came," he put the CD on the table. - Plug into your laptop.
- What is it? - Defne asked cautiously and inserted the disc into the drive. The screen saver of a pregnant girl in a tracksuit appeared.
- And-and-and, stupid! How are you going to give birth to little Omyushik? You won't have the strength to push it out of your belly. It's good that you have me! I, Koray Sargin! - He proudly threw up his head. - I thought about everything. You know, - he leaned towards her and, rounding his eyes, switched to a whisper, - I went to such a site, - the man-child closed his eyes with his palm and stretched his lips into a tube. - Everything is told and shown there. Nightmare! Did my mother give birth to me too? No, no! I was born as the fruit of an immaculate conception, - Defne's eyes went to her forehead. - What are you staring, - he offended pushed her by the shoulder. - Gymnastics for pregnant women! Let's do it together.
- Aah-ah-m-maybe, - Defne stammered, - another time? My clothes don't fit either.
- What more! Not suitable! - He pressed the "start" button on the video player and pulled Defne by the hand into the middle of the office. Having meticulously examined her business suit, he ordered: - Take off your shoes and jacket!
Defne, deciding that arguing with a madman has no meaning, obediently got rid of her shoes and a cropped gray jacket. On the screen, the girl showed the necessary accessories for gymnastics - a large fitball, a rug, and small, like a toy, dumbbells.
- Ay! No ball! Koray screamed. - Can I instead of the ball? Oh no! You can't jump on me! I'm fragile. My bone is thin. I will break. You are, of course, thin, but no! Will break. Let's skip this. Then you buy the ball and we will do it
"Koray, there's no rug either," Defne reminded and pitifully resisted: "I won't lie down on the floor. They walk on it in street shoes.
- We will not, we will not! - He agreed with displeasure. - Today we will warm up. Stand up straight and stretch your arms forward! - He shouted at Defne. - Like this! Spread your legs. Don't be a block of wood, place them gracefully. Oh, my nerves! Have you never done fitness?
- Not. What for? - Defne was surprised. - I can also play football or run a race.
- Race? Ugh! Are you poor or what? You are rich! And the rich do fitness. Come on bend over! Yes, not forward, as if you were making bows, but to the side.
Defne groaned pitifully and leaned to the right.
- Pull your hand! Koray ordered. - Bend over gracefully! You're rich! The poor can be like cuttlefish, and the rich should gracefully. Flutter, flutter! Like a butterfly! - Koray depicted a moth. Defne rolled her eyes under her forehead and, addressing the Almighty, barely audible moan:
- For what?
- What are you muttering there? - shouted at her trainer. More precisely, a personal inquisitor. - Breathe correctly! Inhale through the nose, - he noisily inhaled air, - exhale through his mouth, - puffing out his cheeks, Koray exhaled through his lips folded into a tube. Defne obediently repeated. - Clever, dry girl! - Winding circles around the bending girl, he rattled, without ceasing: - Ai, skinny girl! Omyush made you pregnant! What a good boy! We will now have a little Omyush! But you can't call him that. He must have a different name. "He pressed his index finger to his lips and then jumped up and clapped his hands. -I invented it! You will call him Koray!
- Oh no! - Defne muttered under her breath and prayed: - Allah, let it be a girl!
- And if there is a girl, you will call her Nero! The inquisitor cried enthusiastically.
- What? - Defne choked on air and coughed. - Koray, are you out of your mind?
- Ay, exactly! - He pressed his index finger to his cheek and looked down under his forehead. - Omyush is angry with Nero. Doesn't want to see her. And she is so kind, meek as a lamb, - Koray grimaced and began to brush away nonexistent tears. Defne no longer knew whether to laugh, cry or faint from suffocation. He stepped into the role and performed the play with enthusiasm: - I told her that you were pregnant. Oh, how glad she was! She just burst into tears of happiness. She said - my dear skinny girl, my beloved Omyush, how happy I am for them! I'll wipe their baby's ass! But this is not possible. Omyush won't allow it. He's angry. Bend, come on! - Koray pressed on Defne's shoulder, and she froze with an outstretched hand to the right. He bent down to her face and smiled flatteringly. - Skinny girl, maybe you can talk to Omyush? Let him forgive Nero.
"Omer has forgiven Mrs. Neriman and Mr. Nejmi long ago," Defne tried to straighten up, but in vain. The crazy photographer was holding her shoulder. - But to communicate with them or not is his own business. And I do not have the word here.
Koray did not have time to answer. The office door opened and Omer appeared on the threshold. His eyes widened in surprise. Defne twisted out from under the big palm of the crazy photographer and threw herself under the protection of her husband.
- How good that you came! - She whispered and ducked into his arms. - Save me from him!
- Koray, what's going on here? Omer asked sternly.
- We are doing gymnastics for pregnant women, - Koray snorted like a cat. Straightening manly, he threw back his head and informed Defne: - Today the training is over. Continue tomorrow. Don't forget to take your rug. And so be it, I'll buy a ball. Whoo-hoo-hoo! How generous I am!
With a dancing gait, he left the office. Defne threw back her head and demanded from the dumbfounded husband:
- Omer, do something!
- What? - He was confused. - Lock him in the closet for the rest of the week?
- No! - She was angry. - Find him something to do so that the crap does not come into his head. I have another six months to carry a baby. He will drive me crazy during this time.
- Well, darling! Don't worry. "Omer stroked her shoulders soothingly. - You can't. I promise I will resolve this issue.
- Just hurry up, - Defne pleaded.
Omer entered Sinan's office. He, resting his face on his hand, sat with a blissful smile on his face, and looked through his friend.
- Hi! Omer waved his hand in front of his face. - Hello! Welcome! Sinan, do you hear?
He woke up, and his smile bared all thirty-two teeth.
- Hello, maniac workaholic! How are you?
- Good. By the end of the week, I will finish the spring collection and after the holidays we will start preparing for the presentation.
- Wow! Sinan exclaimed. - You are the best partner in the world!
"The best is the best," Omer agreed and asked: "Have you signed the order for the appointment of Koray as acting director while we are not in Istanbul?
- Signed, - said the partner. - But something jerks me. Will he do miracles in our absence?
- Let's see, - Omer pulled on his trousers and sat down in a chair. - I have a risky proposition. Don't be in a hurry to doubt my sanity! - He looked at his friend in the eye and smiled a crooked smile. - Our best concepts were created by Koray. For all his nuts, he is a professional with good imagination and impeccable taste. How do you feel about making him the concept director?
Sinan choked. After clearing his throat and drinking some water, he shook his head and answered:
- You know how to stun! Do you think he can handle it?
"We'll see when we get back from vacation. Then we will make a decision.
- The gamble is still the same, but I agree!
- Excellent, - Omer brushed an invisible speck of dust off his trousers and ordered: - Call our director for ten days. Let us give him an order.
- What?! - shouted Koray and his eyes turned to saucers. - I remain the director instead of you? For ten days?
"Yes, Koray," Omer confirmed. - Try during this time not to let Passionis around the world, not to disperse employees and not to shock customers. And yet - our offices with Sinan will remain in the form in which we leave them.
But the newly made acting director did not hear him. He flew out of the office and a few minutes later the office was filled with loud sounds of a jubilant melody.
"Oh," Sinan said. - I hope we weren't stupid.
***
Defne was upstairs packing the suitcases. T-shirts and shorts, swimsuits, light tunics and sundresses, evening dresses, colorful pareos, and white shirts made from thin linen lay in even piles in the open bags. Omer's clothes were stacked next to hers and it was so ... right. She decided not to divide the suitcases into "yours" and "mine", but put her clothes and personal belongings in one, and shoes in the second. She also had a lot of it. Beach slippers, Omer's sandals and her sandals, sneakers for walking around the island, and classic shoes for dining in a restaurant. Looking at the suitcase filled with bags for shoes, Defne smiled. And how did she ever get along with one pair of sneakers? And now her wardrobe is full of beautiful and comfortable shoes. And at the same time, it turns out that each pair is necessary and important. Surely, the influence of the shoe-obsessed Omer Iplikci!
Defne put the passports, money, and credit cards into her leather purse. Also the phone charger and her medical record. And then she went to the dressing table. She opened the jewelry box. In a velvet box, she put earrings and a wide turquoise bracelet set in dark silver, a thin gold chain with a pendant in the shape of an angel, tiny gold carnations, and bright coral beads. Her eyes were drawn like a magnet to the necklace of fire opals. She looked at it for several minutes, and then resolutely took it in her hands and put it in the box.
Thousands of kilometers away, over a blooming island in the Pacific Ocean, the sky was cut by fiery lightning.