Fall in love in a weekwe get by

Time was passing, and I was almost glad that Norwood was at the lectures. Because men don’t like women’s tears and transfer this dislike to crying women. The “sea battle” turned out so well, there’s no need to interrupt the impression. Although what am I talking about, I already interrupted with my epic flight to the floor. The painting of Miss Blair in the Coffee Puddle, oh yeah.

The work was falling out of my hands, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Maybe also because the mail belonged to the next week, but will there be that week? UK Pharmacists' Conference, Wednesday to Friday, on what date should Dr Norwood's talk be scheduled? ? is there a difference, which one? The conference is not going anywhere, but will there be a report? Or will they publish it with the author’s last name surrounded by a black frame? Invitation to the presentation of a new line of medicinal cosmetics next Saturday. Ingredient supplier advertising brochure. VIP invitation to a new exhibition at the Royal Botanic Gardens with a note from Chester. Oh. He sent two invitations for me too!

I pushed the mail to the edge of the table and buried my face in my crossed arms. An invitation from Chester – so nice of him! – became the last straw. Just don't cry. There is very little left until the end of the working day.

Time generally tends to fly by too quickly. Just this morning it was four days, but now we can already say that it’s three.

– Miss Blair! Please tell me that I am admitted!

I raised my head, looked into Applestone's worried face and said:

“For now, I can only tell you one thing: you have to knock.” The professor didn't say anything about admission. I'll see now, he should have checked your work.

Indeed, yesterday’s questionnaire was lying on the professor’s desk, inserted into a reference book forgotten by Applestone. Across the front page, in red ink, was written, "Acceptable for the start of the year." I gave the sheet along with the reference book.

– Wow, he really did. I was already thinking – that’s it, pack your things, transfer somewhere to the botanical department. Thank you Miss Blair, you literally bring happiness!

– As far as I understand, before you are happy, you will also have to pass an oral examination.

– It's a tragedy, right. But if he didn’t kick me out right away, then there’s a chance!

I didn't want to answer. I looked at my watch – there were still five minutes until the end of the class, how did my trembling doe gallop up in advance? Doesn't it matter though? I shielded myself with a newspaper and pretended to read.

Suddenly I remembered the first morning at the department, Norwood, fenced off with a newspaper in the same way. Could it be that he was hiding from Charlotte? No, it's me. Why should he hide? There is nothing surprising about a man who reads the latest newspapers in the morning. This is fine. Unlike the girl who, in the middle of the working day, has her face buried in a flyer from the day before yesterday, and even holding it upside down.

And I wouldn’t even notice if it weren’t for another note in black ink across the ad.

I turned the newspaper over.

“Salon “Eternal Youth”. New arrivals of elixirs. From the best masters! "

The little lady-vignette of flowers and leaves, as for me, in combination with the name “Eternal Youth”, rather evoked cemetery thoughts. Or is it my current mood that is to blame? Okay, what did Norwood write here? “Remind Chester. Elsa. Check dates and echinops tincture. Bart is a fool and a charlatan."

Elsa? The same ex with whom they remained friends? This is her salon, isn't it? Or competitors? Maybe that same Bart, the fool and charlatan?

Or does that no longer matter?

– Miss Blair, what are you reading that is so interesting? – Applestone unceremoniously sat down on the edge of the table. – Ads? Oh, look: “Exchanging coordinates of portals for outdoor recreation.” Don't you think this is a sign of fate? You and I definitely need to spend this weekend somewhere under the bright sun and sultry sky, on the shore to the accompaniment of the rolling waves. If, of course, I have a reason to celebrate. But even if it doesn’t, you are already an extremely good reason!

– If you have a reason, you, of course, will celebrate, but how did I get involved in your plans? I have my own plans, Mr. Applestone, and they do not include your company.

– But if your plans do not include the azure sea, the rustling of palm trees and a couple of glasses of mojito, you can change them! Think for yourself, Miss Blair! You only live once!

– Mr. Applestone, the seating in this office is chairs, not tables. And be so kind as to discuss your grandiose plans with Miss Blair in a more appropriate place.

“Yours and Miss Blair?!” I jumped up: