When emojis are unnecessary
The spring morning wasn't sunny—wet snow, black ice, and clouds didn't make it kind. And the day's plans didn't brighten the mood either—office work awaited her by eight, and it wouldn't let her go until closer to night. Svetlana had just come out of the metro and, wrapping herself in her raincoat, was heading to the office in a dense stream of people. If you didn't look closely, she didn't stand out from this flow at all. But her bright red hair, neat makeup, and slender figure did, now and then, catch the eyes of passersby. However, only the gaze of one person could please Sveta—the gaze from Oleg at the neighboring workstation.
Right at the office entrance, she noticed something unusual.
Another desk with multiple screens? Looks strange, and why would they need it here...
"Oh, Sveta, you're just in time! We have an additional briefing this morning!" chirped the shift supervisor.
"Okay,"—not okay at all, morning briefings never end with good news.—"I'll just change and come right away."
Working with clients at a large company demands a lot. At the very least—giving up favorite jeans and donning a skirt and blouse of classic cut every morning. And if two years ago, at the start of the job, she arrived in the morning already fully ready and dressed, now part of her wardrobe had moved right into the utility room at the office. The utility room was an old equipment room repurposed for the employees' needs, from which they'd thrown out 90s-era computers and hauled in bits and pieces to create at least some warm, homey atmosphere. Lockers with clothes, a table with a microwave and a dozen tea boxes, an old sofa in the corner—what more do you need for a place to hide from pesky clients during your lunch break?
Hiding behind a locker, Sveta began hurriedly changing. She shed her raincoat, jeans, and out of habit glanced around. After all, there were many colleagues in the office, but only one utility room for everyone. But the guys rarely came in the mornings; they didn't need to worry about beauty and appearance. Pulling her t-shirt over her head, she couldn't help but glance at herself in the mirror. Well, fitness does have an effect! Her tummy was gone, her legs became more graceful, and her butt, oh how good it looked. But the moment of self-admiration in the small door mirror ended quickly, and, hopping into a black skirt and white blouse, Sveta went to the main office hall, tying a corporate-colored tie.
"Well, seems like everyone's here, except Lena and Anya, but those two are always late. They definitely won't show up for 15, maybe even 20 minutes. Oleg, you'll pass on the morning news to them with a reprimand later!" the shift supervisor announced loudly.
"No problem, we're always happy to reprimand."
"You'll joke your way into trouble with me, don't pull that in front of clients. I know you. Well, colleagues! News is—management is, as always, dissatisfied, and that means..."
"Fewer bonuses, more work, and some stupid rules from the HR department..." Oleg whispered to Sveta.
"Fewer bonuses, more work, and new rules from HR. I'd even say not rules, but a schedule. We are now the stars of a reality show—filmed on camera 24/7. Did everyone see the desk at the entrance? The IT guys brought it from headquarters this morning, they were setting it up all night. And not just for us, they installed them in all branches. They told us a lot about this contraption, I'll give you the gist—now there's surveillance 24/7 over all workstations. But we're used to that, here's the new thing—all cameras are connected to servers at headquarters, and they assess client emotions online..."
"What nonsense!" flashed through the bright red head. "How much money did they pour into this if they installed it in every office. Better they'd closed last year's debts."
"Data on the client's mood you see on the small screen behind the desk, displayed as smileys," chirped the supervisor.
"They're emojis, not smileys."
"You be quiet, Olezha, I'm a woman of a certain age, I get by with simple text in messages. Anyway, the cameras film all clients, assess their emotional state, and suggest it to you. Anger, confusion, even sleepiness and hunger. Now when closing deals and contracts, you can rely not only on your own gut feeling but also on this miracle device. And one more thing—the camera is aimed not only at the client but also at you. Moreover, at you—round the clock, even when you walk around the office, the cameras account for it and follow on your heels. So you can't hide in dark corners. Data on your behavior at the desks goes to HR, and they promise bonuses for the 'friendly' and extra pay for the 'smiley,' but as you know, more likely there will only be fines for the 'sullen' and deductions for the 'sleepy.' And now everyone to your places, new tech doesn't cancel old rules."
They'll be watching every desk now? The whole workday? I sense my salary will be cut quite a bit, there's been no shortage of sullenness and sadness on my face lately. No one to cheer me up,—Sveta thought wearily.
"Hey, Nesmeyana, are you going to hide your smiles now not only from me but also from the camera?"
"And you keep your hands to yourself, or else anger and rage will show up on the screen. They'll show up for me, but you'll get the consequences."
All Sveta could do all morning was glance now at the new screen, now at the clients, and now at Oleg's desk. Something was off with him today, buried in his smartphone screen, and so uncommunicative...
What a handy thing it turned out to be!—Sveta thought during lunch.—Usually I make one or two sales a day, but here before the break it's already 5 deals. That magic little screen really does help. You look at the client's emotion, then help them solve that problem. It's just that before lunch, the smiley opposite the 'employee' window kept depicting 'hungry,' and when she glanced at Oleg, it showed 'embarrassment.' The damn machine doesn't lie...
Lunch would have been the most mundane, but it ended sadly. Sveta spilled juice from a carton all over her blouse. From a carton, imagine that. But spare blouses in the locker would save the situation, whereas before Sveta would have gone into hysterics over such a situation. Hysterics that no smileys would be enough for. Entering the utility room and opening the locker, Sveta was in for a surprise—there were blouses, but she somehow hadn't thought to bring bras to work.
Have to go bare underneath,—the girl thought.—A satin blouse. And on top of that, this creep will be staring at her nipples.
Looking around again, Sveta took off her blouse, unhooked her bra. She couldn't resist and stretched sweetly. Unexpectedly, she decided to play a little. Taking her phone, she took a couple of photos in the mirror. The result satisfied her; such photos would make any guy happy. And if she straightened her shoulders, her chest would seductively protrude. The whole situation turned her on, and she purposefully decided to take photos for Oleg. Already having taken off her skirt and left in thin black panties, she took a few more photos, then lost her head, leaned back on the sofa, stretched out one arm with the phone, slipped the other into her panties, and took the most lewd selfie she could imagine.
"And why does it turn me on that I could get caught at any moment? But now Oleg will definitely freak out when he gets something like this in the corporate chat. I'll send it in the middle of the day, so he'll suffer until evening."
The workday was coming to an end, and Sveta continued to count the guys' glances at her chest in the tight blouse. Oleg, however, was nervous and restless. He glanced at her furtively, and much more often than usual. And not with interest, but with some kind of embarrassment.
"Oleg, why so glum?"
"Nothing, lots of work."
Somehow he answers too dryly. And briefly. Not his style. Though he did glance at her chest, the creep. Did he notice the blouse was alone today? Better save the photos for another day, the guy clearly isn't in the mood.
"Sveta, you and Oleg are staying today," the supervisor shouted from her office. "You'll write a report on the new system's work, preferably with glowing reviews. Otherwise, they'll tear our heads off for negativity. Sit for a couple of hours, if anything—here, order pizza, colleagues chipped in. And if you're really delayed—stay until morning, I'll give you a couple of days off later."
Such news did not please Sveta. specially for .оrg
What luck! Not only work, but with Oleg. She wanted to relax with him, not work. And catch his glances at her chest all night, and Sveta still hadn't decided to send the photos.
"You do as you like, but I'm going to work in the utility room. At least there you can settle on the sofa with a laptop, not sit here at the monitor killing yourself all night."
"Oleg, come on. Maybe we should sit down, write this report quickly and go home?"
"First, I don't do things quickly. And second, there's work here for half the night, so we'll be sitting here, like that night before the inspection..."
"Fine, let's go then. Just let me change, I'm not planning to follow the dress code at night too."
And so, entering the room, Oleg jumped onto the sofa, and Sveta went to the lockers. And only upon opening them did she pause to think.
"Hey, maybe give a girl a chance to change? Since we're here all night, I don't want to sit in a suit."
"So change, who's stopping you."
"You're stopping me, you blockhead! Not in front of you..."
"Oh, come on, it's not like I've never seen a girl in her underwear."
Oh, is that so. The nerve. He hasn't seen. Well, now you'll see.—Sveta thought hastily.
The skirt came off quickly, but she took off the blouse not behind the locker door, but walking towards him, unbuttoning one button at a time. At what point he guessed there was nothing under the blouse—a mystery, but she lay down next to him on the sofa in just her panties.
"What are you staring at, you've seen everything."
"Yeah, I've seen..."
"When did you see so much that you managed to get your fill?"—the main thing is to keep your hands to yourself, but Sveta wasn't particularly controlling herself today.
"When I needed to, that's when I saw."
"What's with you today, walking around so gloomy, how many 'sad' smileys did you get today?"
"You keep mocking, that's it, let's work!"
What's wrong with him,—Sveta screamed in her head.—I'm lying here half-naked in front of him, shocked at myself, and he's like a stone. Are we really going to work all night?
Sveta began staring intently at the laptop screen, occasionally adjusting numbers, leaning right over Oleg. To say he saw everything—is an understatement. Her chest was right in front of his face, but he diligently looked away and behaved as no guy would behave in front of such a chest. Only his tight belt gave him away.
"Want some coffee?" he asked.
"What the hell coffee?! No, I never refuse it, but you should be asking me something else."
And so Sveta lies on the sofa, in clothing—thin panties, in audience—one blockhead with two cups of coffee. And then her gaze accidentally fell on his phone. What app is that open? Grabbing it in her hands, she stared at the screen. And saw herself. Right there in his phone, on the bright screen, she was lying on the sofa, and she had only panties on. The blockhead with cups wasn't in the frame. And the smiley at the bottom of the screen changed from 'aroused' to 'confused.'
"You... were watching me all day?!?! Wait, this is... This is the cameras from that damn smiley system! What, you saw me all day?!"
"Why are you shouting?"
"What is this crap on your phone!"
"Ah, that. Well, you understand... Wait, don't get mad. It's just I was on the evening shift yesterday when the IT guys came."
"What do the IT guys have to do with it!"
"Well, from headquarters, the ones installing the smileys. One of them, a friend from university, he gave me access to your 'cameras' in this smiley system. I wanted... to watch your emotions, but it turned out I saw your 'show' after lunch."
If he had glanced at his phone screen, Sveta's smiley would have been 'anger' or 'rage.' Just that afternoon she herself was planning to surprise him with nude photos, but his silence and withdrawal turned out to be the result of spying on her. He didn't get those photos in time, as the phone flew right into the wall.
Grabbing some blanket and wrapping herself in it on the way, Sveta ran to the small utility room with mops, the only place where she could lock herself in.
Tears streamed down her face, and she diligently ignored his knocking at the door.
"Sveta, I'm sorry, I didn't want... for you to find out like this..."
"So you didn't want me to find out? Would have just watched your videos, shown them to friends?"
"No, what are you saying, I... only for myself... Don't cry..."
After crying for another 15 minutes, she pulled herself together. Can