Yeah, sure. Off you go.
Anna takes the dress and heads for the door.
Marina. Anna! I want the dress to be ready by 2 p. m. tomorrow. [To Sergey.] I’ve been just invited to a formal dinner in the governor’s residence. Sergey, keep me company tomorrow. We’ll discuss our future cooperation in detail, I’ll introduce you to my friends, and you will make useful social contacts. Don’t be shy, Sergey. I insist!
Sergey. Alright, I’ll come with you, Marina.
Marina. Anna?
Anna. I’ll finish the dress tonight. It’s gonna be perfect. Goodbye, Sergey. I wish you all the best.
Anna leaves.
Marina. Let’s get on close terms, do you mind?
Sergey. I don’t.
Sergey. Are you friends with Anna?
Marina. Don’t be ridiculous. Her husband left her with two kids. She’s laying herself out, taking in sewing. It’s our custom to help the poor. But it’s so nice to meet you. I suggest that we celebrate! Let’s go out for dinner.
Sergey. Are you married?
Marina. I’m not. I am. Well, I’m not.
Sergey. I don’t get it.
Marina. My drunk husband fell overboard a yacht when chilling in Egypt with his mistress. His body has never been found.
Marina. And you? Oh, right. Frolov told me.
Sergey. My wife left me for my school friend. I’m divorced.
Marina. It means that we are both… single.
Sergey. Seems so.
Marina. Can we make it work? I’m sorry for being this blunt.
Sergey. Time will show. Aren’t you a witch, by any chance?
Marina. Maybe.
Sergey. It’s hot in here.
Marina. I have a minibar with some refreshments. Will you indulge? [She strides up to the minibar.]
Sergey. I’m not sure. Alcohol does nothing but harm. I’m afraid I can do something dumb.
Marina. Right, we don’t want that. I’ll make you a Bloody Mary.
Sergey. Don’t spare vodka.
Scene 5
One year later. Sergey Arkhipov’s Architectural Bureau.
Igor Frolov and Sergey are seated comfortably in armchairs at a solid oak desk. They are drinking Talisker Storm whisky and smoking cigars.
Sergey. You look smug.
Frolov. I’ve spent the night with someone.
Sergey. Your ass must still be hurting.
Frolov. Oh, fuck you! If only you could see her naked. Lithesome as a cat.
Sergey. You lucky bastard! Do I know her?
Frolov. Perhaps you do. Anna Sokolova’s Dancing School. Her girl students put on a performance for the president at the EXPO summit, you know.
Sergey. I don’t remember. I don’t remember.
Frolov. Here’s to wives and sweethearts! May they never, never meet.
Sergey. Amen. Now I’ll introduce you to my new girlfriend.
Sergey gets off the armchair, steps up to his weapons safe, and produces a Benelli M4 shotgun.
Frolov. Isn’t she gorgeous!
Sergey. An icon! It’s semi-automatic. Six-round magazine. I’m going to a firing range tomorrow. Wanna put it to use.
Frolov. Well, I also can be of use to you, Sergey.
Sergey. Go ahead.
Pause.
Frolov. As your lawyer, I insist that you and Marina should sign a marriage contract.
Sergey. Come on, Igor! I love her. I am indebted to her for everything I’ve achieved during the past year. She made me happy. Her connections with the city power players helped me get paying projects. I am prosperous and I’m doing my thing again.
Frolov. Marina is not a woman who would settle for crumbs from her ex. She is of the bulldog breed! If something goes wrong after your marriage and the birth of your child, she will rob you blind. You won’t have a rag to your back. Again.
