“Aileen?”
“Uh?” she cleverly replies, disguising the fact that she’s lost track.
“Come on, Aileen…” trails Adrian. It’s one of his favorite jokes, but also, yes, he’s a little serious.
“Yo, Adrian,” she pops back. It’s one of her favorite jokes in response, but also, yes, she’s sorry. Adrian isn’t the problem. He’s a nice British fellow, a fine editor, and husband of the Head of the English-Language Texts Department at LionPrint Publishing. His wife, Oksansa Dimitryvna, or Oksana Burrows, nee Klatkovych, is currently away from her desk, away from her job, really, waiting to have a baby. She spends a great deal of time in bed these days, mostly in the belief that “having a rest” [known to Americans as “taking it easy”] is crucial, but also because she can work from home and send Adrian to share her directives. Plus, her father, Dimitry Mikhailovych, or Dimitry Klatkovych, is the Director of LionPrint Publishing, and basically anything his little girl wants to happen will happen. Never mind that his little girl is 33 years old; as his only child, she has a great deal of pinky-wrapping-‘round power—and double that since she’s been pregnant.
Dimitriy Mikhailovych frowns at our heroine. Yes, he speaks English, but he’s continually befuddled by the odd manners of Americans and British people. How can he be expected to pick up so many pop culture references, and why should he even bother? Should he have watched Rocky and listened to Dexys Midnight Runners in 1982? He scowls at her slightly.
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