She was an operator in a wholesale company owned by a local... gentleman of literary and cultural persuasion. He had a bookstore, he published a literary magazine, and all that from a huge village house, mostly newly built, with offices above the combine harvester hangars, or warehouses of that size - never looked inside.
She'd be overly critical of our apps, but then wanted to know everything, and would often just lean to the other end of desk and keep staring at me from that angle. Not the first nor the last that may think there's a mystique between a programmer and his keyboard. Observe all you like.
The other girl was even prettier, and worked on Grgi's apps. But she spoke nasally, which irritated me, and got married along the way... probably that one evening when they took Grgi and me to dinner (on the house) didn't work. I was too old and he wasn't biting. I think we went there perhaps six or seven times in 1991 and 1992. Even got to see the pictures from the wedding, and ate a peace of the wedding cake each.
At some point during the next couple of years, she called and said she'd like to move to the city, so if I get wind of a job somewhere... I was getting hints of her family situation not being great - don't know if her father was drinking or what, who knows, hints are hints and have no detail.
Well I'm just a programmer, I don't hire nor fire, but okay, if anyone asks... And, amazingly, someone did. One similar enterprise, here in town, was looking for someone who knows something about accounting and computers - and the guy who asked me was the guy who was the chief of textile's erc back in the days of stour, so we were sort of pals. And I gave them her phone number, and it all worked to everyone's satisfaction.
Except I felt sorry for her - she'd be all alone in, well, not so big a city but still dangerous to a young girl. I'd guess she was about 22 at the time. So I saw her on the job once or twice while they were still DBA's customer. Then they switched to some clipper guy's app but needed some help with DBA's old apps to limp to the switchover, which I did in one afternoon. They couldn't pay me cash, but they had a supermarket in the house so I, well, filled a tote with salami, cheese and butter to the agreed amount, got on my bicycle and vanished. She did look good in that white shirt, counting thick wads of money and doing the paperwork. I guess she imagined herself doing that, not being a kindergarten teacher (what she was studying but don't know whether she ever finished).
She even visited Avai in the early days, while we were still in the smaller Bangro's building, again looking the best she could, wasp waist, everything else prominent, cute as a cake. Just looked and again no, I'm not biting.
Then she invented interest of that company in some apps that Avai had - perhaps BarSys or whatever, so I went to install a demo there, not in the old headquarters, but rather in the backoffice of the restaurant they had on the stadium. I'm still not sure whether any of that was even half official, but then had to behave as if it was. So official was I too. Though we did walk half a kilometer after that, but whatever we talked, no matter how sincere and open, was mostily to make her feel less alone in the city. I may have imagined she was interested, maybe she was... never mind, I was happy that nothing came even close to happening.
Then she appeared in our neighborhood, somewhere even beyond our street (we're three blocks from end of town). And rode bicycles with us in the morning. At the time, her hair was subequatorial, and she dyed it a hand's breadth at the time, so it was dark on top and quite blonde below her butt. And she was built, can't say, and had a nice smile... but I wasn't the taker.
Eventually she expressed interest in my SF stories and wanted to read them, so I promised her a copy when I get to print them. A couple of weeks before going to the US, I visited her (secretly, though, just to avoid lengthy explanations) and told her straight that I have no intentions of any liaison, I'm here as a friend - and she jumped to agree, said next time you come with your wife etc. But everything else, all the other signs were telling a different story. She was all in some zen stuff, alternate philosophies, even read my palm. Don't know how much of that was a bluff, probably more than half. Then I kissed her as I was leaving, as a compliment. I fully imagined I'd never see her again.
But I did, one more time. I printed and (manually) bound the stories, and during the last days before leaving, spread the copies as best I could, and kept one for her, because I promised. And after my farewell party, when I had the lada and dropped off Cica and our accountant, I drove to her apartment (near Lesnina) and called her out. She came down, unlocked the entrance, took me up to her 2nd or 3rd floor and I saw she was excited, and there's quick and fresh makeup, high heels, micro mini skirt, a real dopičnjak, shiny stockings (which I actually don't like, but what does she know) and she handed me a few presents - mostly pens from where she worked at the time, they were selling the stuff. I've visited her them once, I saw what they sold - and there was yet another one whom I knew while she was working at Gargamel's.
And then she escorted me to the car and offered herself on the spot. Oh, man. No, I never cheated on my wife and I don't intend to start now. Go get married. Find someone. It's your life and you don't need me in it. I'm gone in two days. Bye.
She found my phone somehow and called the next couple of days two or three times, and I had to be more and more harsh each time. Her last words were "find me".
Which then I did, reluctantly, from Zero, not on the phone (was too expensive then) but via email - and she was already working in some third place. The email thing effectively cooled things down, it was a no contact contact.
After returning, I searched her on the web. She's pretty much ungooglable, but exists in the phone book in her village. Under the same surname. So I guess she went back. Didn't try to call then, didn't ten years later. Tried the same search now, her phone is not listed.