They made it just in the nick of time. The young woman at the lone desk in the spacious room was already glancing at her watch and sorting through handwritten forms. Technology might have advanced, but questionnaires filled out in barely legible doctor’s scrawl were still a staple.
Registration was taking place right in the sanatorium’s lobby. Lia’s name was at the very bottom of a long list of attendees. She was handed a program of upcoming events and a participant badge on a lanyard. As she slipped it over her head, the cord snagged on her earring. The stranger stepped in once again to help her out of yet another awkward predicament, and Lia turned to thank her rescuer.
Her eyes immediately caught the name on his badge. While she was still processing the transcription, the man introduced himself:
“Ivan Kovch… And you must be Julia?”
“Julia Dashkevich. Call me Lia,” she offered, surprising even herself. Only family and close friends addressed her that way. Ivan Kovch didn’t fall into either category. While you can’t choose your family, Lia only let others get so close before drawing a line. She didn’t want to face disappointment again—not in anyone, and especially not in herself. That’s why her own suggestion caught her off guard.
Lia looked directly into her companion’s face, something she rarely did when speaking with men—unless they were her patients. Perhaps fatigue had dulled her usual caution.
His irises were a soft coffee shade, slightly darker at the edges. Short, thick lashes framed them. His skin was tanned, and his dark hair had a reddish tint at the tips, as if he’d spent a long time in the sun. Her eyesight hadn’t deceived her earlier: his temples were indeed dusted with gray. The combination of colors somehow reminded her of late summer.
His face, at first glance, was unremarkable: a straight nose, brows slightly overhanging his eyes, sharp lines around his mouth and across his forehead. Yet, looking at this man… she wanted to keep looking. How old was he? Around forty, perhaps. But why did it matter to her? Just natural curiosity?
Lia lost track of time, and the stranger remained silent as well, studying her openly but not brazenly in return. They must have been the last to arrive, as no one tried to push past them at the desk. Lia only snapped out of it when the registrar coughed, waved a hand, and announced:
“Please proceed to the hall. There’s a reception there.”
“A reception—now that’s great,” Lia exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm, immediately heading in the indicated direction. Her new acquaintance kept pace. She could smell his cologne—a touch bitter, slightly spicy, but pleasant.
“Hungry?” he asked, leaning in close to her ear from behind.
Lia felt a faint dizziness. Was it exhaustion, or something else odd? For her own peace of mind, she probably should put some distance between herself and this Ivan Kovch. But she kept delaying that moment, convinced he’d drift away on his own soon enough.
Men often craved attention, so Lia usually ignored their glances and words. She responded coolly and disinterestedly, unless the conversation was professional. Besides, right now was the perfect opportunity to brush off her new acquaintance for good. It would be calmer that way.
In today’s world, among women striving for a healthy lifestyle, an interest in food that wasn’t low-calorie, nutrient-dense, or vegetarian often provoked surprise, if not outright disdain. Men were allowed to eat anything edible, but women were expected to stay slim. Detox had practically been elevated to the only acceptable way of life among the so-called civilized crowd.
Clearly, Lia didn’t belong to that crowd.
“Starving. I didn’t even have time for lunch, I was in such a rush. My management…” She stopped herself. No need to burden a casual acquaintance with the details. “Anyway, I doubt you’d be interested. I’m going to scrounge up whatever’s left on the tables.”
After finishing her sentence, Lia turned to wish her companion a pleasant evening, only to find Ivan nowhere in sight. Well, she’d lost him a moment sooner than planned. All for the better.
She managed to snag just a few tartlets and a small pastry. Better than nothing. Lia noticed groups hovering over trays of mini skewers and bagels, but barging in felt too rude. The desserts were long gone, too.
Sighing, Lia headed with her hard-won plate to a rather out-of-place bar—too jarring for the room—to grab a coffee. She perched on a stool, waiting for her much-needed dose of caffeine, and began scanning the crowd. Perhaps among the buzzing throng, she’d spot a familiar colleague? She’d already called her daughter on the way to the sanatorium, so she could relax a little.
No familiar faces yet, and she hadn’t heard any foreign languages either, despite the event being billed as international. Maybe more attendees would show up later? For now, though, a visibly drunk man, about ten years her junior, sidled up to her. He even slid a glass of sparkling wine her way, nearly spilling it at the last second. Thankfully, not on her knit trousers. She hadn’t packed for a vacation and had brought only a few outfits.
Lia silently rejoiced that there wasn’t another stool beside her. Refusing the drink would only draw unwanted attention, she decided, so she placed it on the bar counter next to her coffee cup and started nibbling on the pastry to avoid answering probing questions. The name on his badge was trivial. They might cross paths in a session tomorrow, and there was a chance this guy, sober, would turn out to be pleasant, polite, even shy. Still, details like her workplace or room number at the sanatorium—things he was currently prying about—were none of Valery’s business, as he loomed over her like a willow tree.
“Could you step back, please?” she said as calmly as possible. Lia couldn’t predict how this man would react to her request, so she tried not to provoke him. Any doctor was just human, after all, and alcohol could elicit varied responses. “I can hardly breathe.”
“We can step outside to the courtyard or terrace. Get some air and get to know each other better. Or are you one of those ‘don’t bother me’ types?”
“I’m one of those,” Lia nodded. “Don’t waste your precious time on me. Find someone more accommodating.”
“But I like you. You’ve got something to hold onto. All these bony types—they don’t do it for me. See, I’m a trauma surgeon, and just looking at them… kills the mood.”
Objectively speaking, it was a sort of compliment, but still…
“I understand you perfectly, Valery. But the smell of alcohol kills my mood. Besides, I’m not in your age bracket. Find yourself a younger conversation partner.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. What’s age got to do with it? Didn’t you come here to have some fun? Well, aside from earning certification credits. There’s no ring on your finger. So, either you’re single, or you’re looking for a little adventure. And all these unofficial flings… who cares? I don’t. By the way, I’m just the right age for an adventure. As for the breath… I’ve got mint gum.”
Lia glanced at the impassive barista and realized she couldn’t count on him. Too young, too skinny, and avoiding eye contact. Calling for help among her colleagues felt foolish and awkward. Leaving? Valery would surely trail after her. His stubborn gaze told her that much. What else could she come up with to get this guy to back off?
And then, Lia spotted Kovch.
* * *
She noticed her new acquaintance by chance, as Valery kept leaning closer—too close for comfort. But at one point, he swayed back slightly, and through the gap, an irritated Lia caught sight of a familiar sweater.
“Ivan!” Lia carefully pushed Valery aside, ensuring he didn’t topple over, and hopped off the stool. She worried Ivan might not hear her, and she didn’t want to cause a scene over a drunk colleague. “Finally!” she exclaimed, as if she’d been waiting for him forever.
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He waited until she approached and quietly asked:
“Giving you trouble?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“Just a moment ago, we were on a first-name basis,” Ivan noted with a faint smile.
Lia felt the urge to smile back, though handing out such gestures wasn’t in her nature. She masked the involuntary fluster from her fleeting thoughts and focused on the plate Ivan was holding.
“Is that almond cake? Where did you find it? There’s hardly anything left in the hall.”
“There’s a little door in the corner leading to a magical realm prosaically called the pantry. A kind fairy lives there. She shared this with me, straight from the hidden stash in the fridge.”
The thought that a kind fairy might not have shared such a treat with a woman felt too… Lia swapped the word “cynical,” which first popped into her mind, for “uncharitable.” She didn’t want to think poorly of herself. Where had the trusting girl she once was gone? The one before the divorce.
“I suggest we split the slice and eat it as a toast to friendship. We can officially switch to first names while we’re at it,” she said, not just to fill the silence. Lia genuinely loved almond treats.
“Fair enough. My contribution is the cake. What’s yours?”
“A kiss,” she replied almost matter-of-factly, with barely a hint of flirtation.
She’d peck him on the cheek. No big deal! It was all in jest. Let Ivan think what he wanted. Thankfully, he was sober. Besides, after the conference, they’d likely never cross paths again. And even if they did, they’d have a good laugh over today’s antics. It’s not like they were heading to bed together.
Lia, what kind of thoughts are these? She hadn’t even had a drink.
Valery staggered past, pausing just long enough to mutter:
“You could’ve just said you found yourself a date for the evening. I’d have understood.”
“I’m not…” Lia doubted he’d have backed off without seeing a rival for himself, so she didn’t deny Ivan’s role. Valery pushed off with his heels and stumbled toward the exit. Lia hoped he’d find his room. “Some people just can’t handle their liquor. Good thing he’s not getting rowdy. Yet. And this is supposed to be an international conference. I don’t see any foreigners.”
Ivan gently steered Lia back to the bar, taking her by the elbow and guiding her to the counter. Speaking of which, her coffee was still there, though probably cold by now.
“Wouldn’t I pass?”
“Pass for what?” Lia asked, not following as she sat on the stool and sipped her coffee. It was indeed stone cold. She couldn’t help but grimace.
“I’ll finish it,” Ivan said, pulling the cup toward himself. He’d somehow found another stool and sat beside her. “Pass for what? For a foreigner.”
He ordered another coffee and asked for a plate and a knife. Then, methodically, he cut the cake. He had nice hands—Ivan Kovch did. Long fingers with neat nails. What was his medical specialty? The conference topics were so varied that Ivan could be just about anyone.
But no, she wouldn’t ask. Unless he volunteered the information himself. Why did she even need to know?
What had he said? Pass for a foreigner?
“Why would you?”
Ivan slid a portion of the cake onto another plate and pushed it toward Lia.
“Maybe because I’m currently working abroad.”
“Is that so?”
No, she wouldn’t pry into that either. So where did this… disappointment, or whatever it was, come from? After all, she’d wanted this—not to meet again.
“Just this morning, I was in…” Kovch began, but Lia cut him off. She didn’t want the details.
“So, are we eating to friendship or what? I did promise.”
Each took their piece with a napkin and linked arms. The barista raised an eyebrow and stepped aside. He’d probably never seen anything like this. Lia took a bite, hummed in satisfaction, and leaned in to kiss her companion on the cheek, but he turned his head, and their lips met. Then again, briefly, as if both were testing something for themselves.
Lia certainly was. It felt too natural. Not too soft, not too dry, not too rough—just right. And pleasant. Very. Too much so. What was she supposed to say now? Certainly not “thanks.”
“Do you like almond cake?” Kovch asked, as if nothing had happened.
And what had happened, really? They kissed, so what? Almost childishly. That’s how friends kiss, or even close acquaintances. Just not Lia. Others did. Maybe that’s why she felt so strange?
Lia shook her head and smiled. After all, she was a grown woman, and this wasn’t her first kiss.
“I do. Since childhood. My family even has a special recipe.”
“I like it too. Maybe one day I’ll try your family’s version.”
“Maybe.”
What was the harm in that? Anything could happen. The important thing was she hadn’t invited Ivan over. A “maybe” was just a “maybe.” They finished the cake and sipped their coffee in silence.
“Care to dance?” Kovch asked out of the blue.
Lia glanced around. She wasn’t opposed, but…
“No one’s dancing. And the music’s just background noise.”
“Just don’t go anywhere.”
Ivan hopped off the stool. Lia shook her head. Somehow, she didn’t doubt that the right music would soon be found.