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The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 - Иван Перепелятник

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Antonio?’ Robert asked.

‘Who knows. I have no idea. Anyway, it is important for me to understand how the presenter will carry on with him. It is quite possible that we will also need to get into the program. So I’m trying to read it,’ Antonio picked up the communicator and started making notes.

‘Look at me—is everything all right?’

‘What’s the matter, Robert?’ Antonio turned to him. ‘Oh. I see. Antonio got up from the sofa and walked over to his boss, examining him from head to toe. ‘Well, I can tell you, I think everything is fine. Although… Wait… rather, you know, too good. It’s too proper or something. We need a slight imperfection. Maybe let the polo out of the jeans? Eh?’

‘No, it would be too informal.’

‘Well, actually, yes. I agree, Robert. Then here’s what. I know. We need to change the watch. Keep it simple and out of place.’

Robert looked at the chosen watch:

‘Okay. Good. Then, the best choice is up to you.’

‘Of course, in a moment,’ Antonio replied and went into the dressing room. ‘As you know, every detail is important in our business!’ climbing the stairs, he shouted out.

‘So it’s exactly the problem, that I know…’ muttered Robert.

Barel, who was sitting in the kitchen and reading the news, looked at the boss, distracted by their conversation with Antonio:

‘Good morning, boss,’ he said in a loud voice.

‘Oh, hello, Barel. I didn’t notice you. Everything OK?’

‘Well, yes. It’s all good. The weather is great today.’

‘Now, that’s fine, Barel. We’re going for a little walk today.’

‘Yes, boss. Meeting with the Chinese guys at 12:30?’

‘So it is.’

‘What do you prefer, boss—by tube or by capsule?’

‘It will be hot on the tube. We’ll drive somewhere closer to the meeting place. And then I’ll walk. And you have to stay in the car, Barel. I’ll go with Antonio.’

Barel looked at Robert:

‘If I must, then I must, boss. Whatever you say. Anyway, I’ll be there. I think there shouldn’t be any problems.’

‘I’m positive too. But, as our old friend used to say, the best improvisation is prepared improvisation.’

‘He was right, your friend, boss.’

Robert smiled.

Parliament

Barel, having made sure that everyone was in place and ready to go, took a seat on the first row in the capsule—the car smoothly started accelerating. On the control panel, he double-checked the route and microclimate settings for the drive. Everything as Robert prefers: 22 degrees, active filtration and ionization of the intake air, noise reduction and silence in the cabin. Then, his task was to look around and to not interfere.

‘Robert, should I go through the main points of the conversation as we’ve outlined it?’ Antonio asked.

‘Listen, everything is going to be as usual—no matter how many times you repeat, nothing will go according to the plan.’

‘This is, of course, true. But the key issues should be worked out in any case.’

‘I do remember everything perfectly, Antonio. Don’t you worry. Last night I double-checked everything and thought it through again.’

‘All right, boss. Whatever you say.’

‘He calls me boss when he feels hurt or when he’s nervous,’ Robert thought. ‘Everything all right with my fishes? Have they sorted it out among themselves or are they yet pretending to be civilized…’, he plunged into thoughts, looking at the houses in the streets of London on their way.

A new page in his life history opened with London. Robert’s parents decided to try their luck in the States in the middle of the 21st century, emigrating from the UK to Los Angeles. As it sometimes happened to the middle class English aristocracy, the inheritance received by his mother did not provide even for paying utility bills in their estate, not to mention the maintenance of the ancestral nest at the adequate level. His mother was convinced of her innate artistic talents, but she believed that European venues would be too cramped for her…and it was not for her pure-blood baroness status, to measure herself against the so called local élite, as she used to say, asserting herself. A different matter altogether was the Olympus of Hollywood, with its boundless potential of studios that have written their names into the walk of fame of the world film industry. In the end, the house was sold, and they left for the west, full of new expectations. She was deeply and genuinely surprised though with things going wrong there, in the New World as well. To be fair, for the rest of the Richardson family, who remained to languish on the ever foggy island, the news from the other side of the Atlantic was not a surprise. The newcomers had to move to the suburbs of Los Angeles, Emily began working as a sales assistant in a local shop, and her father, never finding himself in the new world, could not stand new challenges and took to drinking. Robert’s uncle, Emily’s brother, who remained at home in England, managed to get back on his feet and achieved a certain position. He was well versed in marketing and being a good psychologist found his vocation as an excellent PR man, combining in his practice an understanding of the laws of perception and clients’ business interests. Later he opened his own agency in London. It was Uncle Oliver who invited his young nephew to London and agreed to pay for his studies at one of the best business schools—Oxford University. There was only one single condition—having graduated, Robert had to join his uncle’s team and develop the company together with him. Later, however, other circumstances of the deal came to light, which Robert did not suspect initially. Finding himself in the middle of the capital for the first time as an adult, Robert fell in love with its imperial greatness, inspired by the history of great conquests, financial ambitions and achievements, political intricacies. To

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