Danny Osipenko "Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life"

– Well, the first step is over. – I sat down next to her. – So, how many days did you work for Mr. Paczynski anyway?

– This 5is from the moment I arrived in Australia.

– And how much was paid for you?

– For days6! But I wouldn’t return the excess to him, because his interference in the shooting process, greatly damaged my nerves. And there is still a fee for that.

IВ shoved my friend unhappily.

– Miranda!

– What about Miranda? You know how much those people piss me off. They’re always trying to impose their views on me. After all, I’m the photographer here, not them!

– Mr. Paczynski, as your client, has a right to make his point.

– Not him! That hog only knows where to eat. Do you know how nauseating it is when your interlocutor, with his mouth full, tries to say something else for you?

IВ made aВ disgruntled grimace.

– No, but I can imagine.

– Believe me, it’s even worse to see it with your own eyes. I almost twisted a few times right there. By God, Val, I won’t work for their magazine anymore. That’s my word of good faith to you!

– Well, that’s fine, we’ve dealt with that. Now explain to me, why do you have to give up your favorite case because of this?

Her friend got up from the couch and paced from side toВ side.

– Since this has been going on, it’s not the first day. I’m tired of people like Mr. Paczynski. I may like my work, but only because I can tell my story, not just another dose of sameness. It’s very hard to work for glossy publications and think the way they want you to think. That’s why I’d rather find another job than be a grayish mediocrity.

IВ had toВ take my deepest breath toВ continue this conversation.

– Dear Miranda. – I got up from the couch, too, and walked over to my friend and hugged her tightly. – You’re one of the hardest people to call, but you’re one of the hardest to call! You’re the only person I know who’s catchy, vibrant, and spitting your own originality. To me you are special, you are a person, just not fully disclosed. That’s your mystery. Many people underestimate your talent, creating things even more fascinating than others. Personally, I appreciate that about you! Seriously. From time to time I think your energy is enough to light up an entire major city for a couple of years to come. – I opened my arms and looked into Miranda’s face. – And you know, I’m sad to hear you say something like that. It turns out that I, too, am a grayish mediocrity who makes other people’s wishes come true.

– Sorry.

– It’s okay, it’s better to call things by their proper names.

– You know what I wanted to say.

– Naturally! We’ve known each other for years. So Miranda, I will say this, not because I’m your friend and someone close to you, but as a casual observer. You’re an excellent photographer who makes amazing things out of the ordinary, like this table or… – I spread my hands so that my friend knows what I’m talking about at this moment – or this teapot! You have everything you need. Oh, no, wait, you don’t. You have no patience.

– Hey!

– But that’s just the way it is.

Miranda strode over toВ her own bag, still on the floor, and scratched her head cheerfully and smirked.

– Are you sure?

– Completely.

– Do I have to break my own word of honor again?

– If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t taken your «honest» words seriously for a long time.

Miranda blinked her green eyes inВ surprise.

– And for how long?

– Since the day you swore not to eat any more meat.

That was eight years ago and my friend only lasted aВ week withoutВ him.

– So long ago!? Eh, not mind-boggling then!

My voice cracked aВ little when IВ said:

– Now I hope you won’t just give up on what you really love. So pick up your bag and keep working the way you always have.

– You’re right. I’ve been through so much for this, I can’t just give up.

I turned my back to Miranda so she wouldn’t see the tears coming, and quickly wiped them away, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. My friend picked up her bag and put it in the hall closet and joined me. Some kind of cooking show was on, but I hardly listened to anything they were saying.

«Mike, my sweet Mike! I’ll never forget you!»

ChapterВ 8

The café across from the huge Global City Business Center was probably the only place that made the best pork cutlets in all of Otawa. It was hours5 of evening, and the sun had already disappeared, leaving behind, bright pink streaks in the sky. It was now drizzling in the afternoon as I left the house. It did not bode well for a sunny day. At two o’clock in the afternoon, as I walked out of the library, I was very much taken aback by this change in the weather. I was halfway to the park when I got a call from Mr. Moreau. The man who had bailed me out at the auction, a little over two weeks later. But my father did not mess around and on the very next day, sent me $500,000, which I was going to give right away, to his savior. We agreed to meet him, in the very same cafe across from Global City.

I decided to get there early to enjoy my favorite cutlets and vegetable salad. Mr. Moreau arrived in his own silver car when it was almost past 10six o’clock.

«I’m here!» – I wanted to yell after he entered the cafe. But the man had already seen me and was heading toward my table with determination.

– Good evening, Mr. Moreau!

IВ got up from my seat and extended my hand toВ him, which he immediately shook.

– Hello, Miss Spikes!

My lifeguard now looked rather austere, inВ aВ black blue suit, with aВ single-breasted jacket with two buttons, aВ snow-white shirt, and aВ silk grayВ tie.

AВ young waiter came up toВ us and Mr. Moreau ordered just water, thereby causing my stomach toВ feel uncomfortable after eating the meatballs.

– I won’t beat around the bush. Here are some of the remedies I promised you.

IВ took an envelope out ofВ my purse and held it out toВ my savior.

– I’m sorry Ms. Spikes, but I will not accept these remedies.

His cool tone forced me uncertainly toВ remove my hand from the envelope.

– Is it because the whole amount isn’t there?

– No, that’s not it.

– Then what is it, sir?

The man put his elbows on the table and intertwined his long fingers together as if he were preparing toВ tell me aВ terrible secret.

– The thing is, I have a little problem, and to solve it, I need your help, Miss Spikes.

– Quid pro quo? Right?

– That’s right.

– Fine, have it your way. – I took the envelope and put it back in my purse. – What am I supposed to do?

– It’s no big deal. All I need is for you to help me find one person, but without anyone knowing about it.

His words puzzledВ me.

– You didn’t get it? I mean, aren’t there private detective agencies for that?

– Just answer, «yes» or «no»!

IВ took aВ small sip ofВ the dark tea from the cup inВ front ofВ me and looked at Mr. Moreau inВ confusion. He coolly removed his hands from the table and leaned back inВ his chair.

– If I say no, will you take the funds?

We met eye toВ eye, and IВ saw how serious itВ was.

– I don’t like to repeat myself twice, Miss Spikes.

– That means you won’t take it. In other words, if I have no conscience, then I can safely leave you at this moment alone, without funds?

He lit up his cheeks.

– You are free to do whatever you want, ma’am.

– Thanks for that.

IВ was torn between several thoughts. On the one hand, IВ could really give up and just dump the man. On the other hand, IВ had given him my word and kept it, so IВ could just abandon the funds and walk away with an unharmed conscience. But there was another one, my sincere desire toВ help him, just as he had once done. After all, IВ am not required toВ move mountains!

– Is that it?

I didn’t want to be indebted to him.

– I agree. But if I can’t fulfill your request…

– Nothing Ms. Spikes. I’m sure that for you specifically, it will work out even better than it did for these same detectives.

– I wouldn’t be so sure.

– And for nothing.

His words got me thinking.

– Who is this person I’m supposed to find?

You know, that weird motif that plays in the movies when there is a moment of unraveling the mystery. So that’s what I’m experiencing at the moment.

– Mike Norland.

ChapterВ 9

– If this is your idea of a joke, Mr. Moreau, I can assure you that it’s not funny at all.

«Absurd! Some kind of madhouse! It can’t be!»

The usual pain cramped my whole body at the mere mention of Mike. I couldn’t get enough air, as if someone had cut off the oxygen. I didn’t see a single tear run down my cheek until it dropped onto my blue turtleneck.

– Do I look like a joker to you, Miss Spikes?

IВ felt like IВ was inВ aВ В«PranksterВ» program, only that kind ofВ you know, fierce. IВ could see how serious Mr. Moreau was when he talked about Mike. But how could anyone believe such aВ thing?

– I don’t know. But I’m not going to listen to this nonsense anymore. – I jumped up from my seat, intent on walking away from the man, but he got up, too, and grabbed my arm. – What?

– Go back to your seat. – Mr. Moreau gave me a stern order as he turned me back to our table.

– Don’t tell me what to do. Let me go!

– Only when you’ve relaxed and listened to what I have to say to you.

– Good… Great!

He let me go, and IВ sat inВ my seat.

– It’s a matter of principle, Miss Spikes. I wouldn’t have approached you otherwise.

IВ wanted toВ laugh inВ his face so he could see how absurd those words sounded.