For the past couple of weeks, the Samoilov family had been living in joyful anticipation of their long-awaited vacation. This time, the couple was headed to Turkey—Angelina had been dreaming about this trip for a long time. Stepan’s business was flourishing, and Angelina’s work was also bringing in a good income. They had enough money to support the household and two children, so Stepan decided to set aside part of the profit from each deal to surprise his family.
Angelina was beside herself with happiness. When her husband told her about the trip, she organized a real festive dinner and even baked her famous “bird’s milk” cake—a feat she rarely dared to attempt. The children were already bragging to their classmates, and Angelina told all her friends, packed bags for the whole family, and tried on outfits that she would definitely take with her.
After an exhausting workweek, Stepan planned to relax a little, but his friends invited him to a bar—they hadn’t gathered as a group in a long time. Everyone had accumulated a lot of news, and these guys were always dear to Stepan. Their friendship had begun back in college and had survived many trials. The group loved reminiscing about the old days, laughing, and sometimes feeling a bit sad.
“You’re quite the stud after all,” said Pavel, upon hearing about the upcoming trip to Turkey. “Last year, Olya and I flew to Italy. We still remember that vacation. It was like a second honeymoon. Such emotions!”
“Yes, it’s important to spoil your women,” added Arthur. “And remember how you flirted with Olya—the one who was a year younger than us?”
He loved putting people in awkward positions, especially Pasha.
“Come on, man! Those little ponytails were cute, by the way. They were what caught my attention back then,” Pavel retorted.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Stepan clapped his hands. “No reminiscing about ex-girlfriends. We’re all family men now—there are children and responsibilities. Let’s just play something instead.”
“Cards with wishes! Let’s shake off the old times. Who’s in?” someone proposed.
The friends agreed. One of them asked the waiter for a deck of cards. Each wrote a wish on a piece of paper, rolled it up, and tossed it into a small vase borrowed from the staff. The loser had to draw a note and fulfill its contents. In the first three rounds, Stepan was lucky, and he watched as his friends performed outrageous tasks—blushing with embarrassment or resigning themselves to the situation. The other guests also had fun, like fans at a football match. Finally, it was Stepan’s turn. He unrolled his piece of paper, read it carefully, and smirked.
“Well, that’s nonsense! It’s complete chaos!” he concluded.
“What does it say? Don’t hold back! Read it!”
“It says I must hand over control of my business to the first homeless person I meet for the duration of my vacation? And if he refuses, I must divide a week’s profit among all of you? This is utter absurdity! How can I entrust my business to just anyone? No, of course, I’m not going to do that.”
“Come on, man!” Arthur said, disappointed. “A promise is worth more than money. You can’t back out. We’ll check every day to see what this person is doing. If needed—we help him. And if no one agrees, then you just pay us. That’s all.”
“Go on, Stepan, take the risk!” encouraged Pavel. “You’ll remember this case for your whole life! We’ll help you; nothing terrible will happen. The main thing is to find someone who agrees.”
Stepan hesitated. It had always seemed to him that only he could control all the processes in his business. A serious profit could roll in in a week. But after weighing all the pros and cons, he decided.
“Alright, I’ll take the risk.”
“Oooh! That’s our style! Let’s go; we need to find a lucky guy.”
The friends paid and went out into the street, not knowing where to start. They wandered for a while, teasing each other, but no suitable candidates appeared. Then the group started walking around courtyards, checking near the garbage bins. The homeless person was not found immediately.
The friends egged on Stepan, who was about to utter the strangest words of his life.
“Hello. Excuse me for bothering you,” he addressed a homeless man rummaging through bags.
The homeless man turned at the sound of the voice, surprised by the polite address. He was dressed in a thin jacket, sweatpants, and slippers on his bare feet. The men snickered, and he thought it was just another prank by drunken jokers.
“What do you want?” he asked grumpily.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to scare you. I have a proposal. I own a business, and soon I’m flying to Turkey for vacation.”
“Congratulations. And what do you want from me?”
“I need a deputy to supervise my employees in my absence—to make sure everything runs as usual. You understand?”
The man looked skeptically, thinking he was being made fun of. Usually, people would either shout at him or throw him leftover scraps.
“What kind of proposal? Are you serious?”
“We had a bet with my friends. I know it sounds strange, but could you become that person? The manager while I’m away?”
“What’s in it for me? I have plenty of my own problems. I’m not up for your jokes.”
“I’ll pay you for all work hours for a week—as if it were my salary. Fair and square. What do you say?”
“And what if something goes missing? Aren’t you afraid? Although I have nothing to lose—after all, you won’t take anything.”
“Then just agree.”
“Yes, agree!” Arthur shouted from the side. “Stepan is an honest man. He won’t hurt you.”
“Alright, deal,” the homeless man said, extending his dirty hand, and Stepan shook it.
Now the man faced a challenging task—organizing everything correctly. It would have been easier to entrust the management to his friends: they had a house, decent clothes, and experience. But the decision was made.
Stepan approached his friends, asked for their help, and then returned to the homeless man.
“Tell me, where do you usually sleep? Tomorrow morning around nine, I’ll pick you up, get you cleaned up, and take you to the office to introduce you to the team. We’ll discuss the details tomorrow. Today, unfortunately, I can’t help you, but I’ll sort out the sleeping arrangements. My name is Stepan.”
“My name is Matvey Arkadievich. I live here, you might say, on a permanent basis. This yard is my territory. But tomorrow I’ll come to the gazebo. It’s not proper to have serious conversations by the garbage bins.”
Stepan noted to himself the surprisingly proper speech of the man. In the light of a streetlamp, he managed to see his face: not disheveled, with neat teeth and ordinary wrinkles of a middle-aged man. A thought flashed through his mind: if you wash, trim, and shave this man, he could turn out to be quite a respectable fellow.
By that time, the friends had returned, holding a bag of ready-made food from the store—warm borscht, mashed potatoes, cutlets, and Olivier salad.
“Here you go, consider it an advance. And don’t worry, I keep my word,” said Stepan.
The homeless man thanked them several times for their kindness, clutching the bag to his chest. Then he apologized and added that he would go eat before the food got cold.
“Now you’ve got troubles on your own head,” Pavel smirked in farewell.
“Yeah, thanks, my friend,” Stepan said, shaking his head.
In the morning, after waiting until Angelina had breakfast and left for work, Stepan called his secretary Alena. He informed her that he wouldn’t be in the office for the first half of the day, and if needed, they should contact him directly.
At the appointed time, he arrived in the yard, where at the gazebo Matvey Arkadievich was already waiting for him.
“Good morning! So, shall we get started? I’ll take you to the sauna first, where we can eat. I brought a couple of my suits. I hope the size fits.”
“Good morning. Alright, let’s go,” Matvey nodded.
In the car, Matvey silently looked out the window, watching the street. Meanwhile, Stepan was telling him about his business, the main tasks, and the responsibilities that the manager would have to take on.
“It doesn’t sound as complicated as one might think. You know, you’re a very interesting man, Stepan. Very much so,” noted Matvey.
“I’m shocked myself, but it seems we’ll make it work. Don’t worry about the money—it’s all fair. Every day will be paid.”
After the water treatments, Stepan took Matvey to a café. The waiters warmly greeted the guests, offering the dish of the day and chatting politely. Matvey thanked them for every little thing, having long grown accustomed to being treated otherwise. Later, they went to a hairdresser, where the future deputy was trimmed, with his cheeks and chin shaved.
A few hours later, before Stepan stood a completely transformed man. Only his cheeks were slightly hollowed, and his jacket hung loosely on his thin shoulders. However, his cufflinks sparkled in the light of the lamps. The office staff were disappointed to learn that they would still be monitored. They had hoped to relax in the boss’s absence, but now not only was it business as usual, they were also under the scrutiny of a new deputy.
Matvey Arkadievich looked around his subordinates without any trace of embarrassment, introduced himself, and delivered a short, pre-prepared speech.
“Well, good luck to you all. I’m reachable. If you need anything, contact secretary Alena. She’ll explain everything,” said Stepan as he bid farewell with a handshake. “Bon voyage!”
“Have a great vacation,” replied Matvey.
Immediately after the flight, Stepan wrote to Alena to check on the situation.
“Your deputy is an absolute find! Come back soon,” the girl replied.
Upon returning home, Stepan first tried to contact Alena, but she hadn’t responded to his messages for several days. The next morning, he arrived at the office.
The first thing that caught his eye was that, in place of the young Alena, there sat a woman of about forty with a pleasant appearance. Seeing him, she stood up and introduced herself:
“Good morning, Stepan Nikolaevich. I’m your new secretary, Marina Igorevna.”
“Nice to meet you. And what happened to Alena?”
“You’d better ask Matvey Arkadievich about that.”
“Alright, thank you. Have a good day.”
Stepan entered his office. Matvey was sitting on the couch, spreading papers on the coffee table. Seeing Stepan, he stood up. The director’s workspace remained untouched. In the deputy’s actions, Stepan began to notice characteristic traits.
“Hello! Welcome back. How was your vacation? Ready for a tour?”
“Hello, Matvey. And where’s Alena?”
“That clueless girl. I couldn’t leave her behind. There are some other changes, too. Come on, I’ll show you.”
When they appeared, the employees stopped working and greeted the management. Stepan noticed new faces. Matvey explained that he had fired some employees for colluding with competitors and warned the rest not to even think about it. Under his supervision, the workers began arriving on time, spent less time lingering in the kitchen with tea, and productivity increased.
Stepan was astonished: such changes in one week seemed impossible. It turned out that Matvey had been in the military before, and order under his command was the norm. The director expressed his admiration and offered the man a permanent position as deputy.
“You’re just a gem! I can’t let you go.”
“The beginning is made. Everything will improve.”
“And know that I’m offering this not out of pity. As an employee, you completely satisfy me. I’m weak on discipline. At home, the kids are afraid of their mother, and they ride me like a horse.”
Matvey gladly accepted the offer. Over time, he managed to rent an apartment and return to a normal life. He often thanked fate for meeting Stepan. Continuing to work hard, he never forgot those who had helped him during his wanderings and always tried to support them as much as he could.