She took a clean sheet of paper and started to draw. Not for work, not for a task. Just for the fun of it. For the first time in a long time.
The first independent job came out of the blue. It was an ordinary workday, an ordinary Tuesday. Anna had been working as a junior designer for a month.
“A client’s here for you,” Marina said, peeking into the room. “A café on Sadovaya. They want a renovation. Can you handle it?” Anna nodded.
“I can.”
The café was really small, just six tables in a space that used to be a bakery. The owner, a young guy with a beard, seemed kind of familiar to her.
“We went to school together,” he explained, seeing her confusion. “You were in design, and I was in economics. I remember us dancing at one of the college parties.” Anna blushed. She didn’t remember him at all.
“I always thought you were talented,” he went on as they looked around the space. “I saw your work at the student exhibition. So when I heard you were back in the business, I immediately decided: my place’s interior will be done by you and only you.”
“You’re nobody without me,” Anna remembered Igor’s words, but now they were just sounds, stripped of any power over her.
She worked day and night. She drew, made plans, picked out materials, and negotiated with suppliers. For her, it became a challenge, a starting point for a new life.
When the project was done, even the tough Arkady gave an approving grunt:
“Not bad, Sokolova. Could’ve been a bit more daring, but for a first try, it’s pretty good.”
That was as good as applause.
The “Sadovoye” café opened in the fall. Dmitry insisted that Anna’s name be put on as the interior designer. It was nicely written in small, elegant letters on the glass door next to the logo.
