"Kalina was really lucky" - that's what her clients used to say about her. They were right - after all, not everyone can boast the best beauty salon in town and the title of owner of the year. She herself was the most appropriate showcase for her establishment - hair in the most fashionable shade of flamboyant baleyage, perfect nails with silvery-gold embellishments, make-up perfectly highlighting her big blue eyes and full lips the colour of ripe wine.
On top of this, she dressed tastefully, meticulously selecting chic accessories and displaying the style of an enterprising, independent and urban woman. For this, women loved her and wanted to emulate her. Her female employees also adored her, for them she was an unrivalled role model, an ideal who can be the first to be at work and the last to leave it. "Like her satin suit", they liked to say, "Kalina puts the finishing touches to everything".
That evening, when she had already said goodbye to the last of the manicurists, she was the first to drop her outfit onto the chair. She also took the smile off her face, the one that, by some superhuman force of will, had been attached to her for all those hours. She pressed the buttons of the automatic roller blinds, which closed the establishment with a minimal slam, cutting her off completely from the outside world.
Then, in a daily ritual, she moved to the back of the living room, where, exactly behind the seventh hairdryer, she opened the brush storage compartment, located under a metal flap. She levered up this above-ground cabinet, taking out its contents first, and opened a second wooden flap, normally invisible without these procedures. After a moment, Kalina's heels began to tap against the surface of the steps of the massive ebony ladder. One, two, three ... twenty. Now it was just a turn to the right, a 'click' and the warm home light surrounded her care. Yes, it was here that she felt at home- in a windowless basement fortress, upholstered on all sides with solid wood and colourful highland tapestries.
