Gavin
"I'm supposed to - what? Get married?" Amused, I laugh out loud. "You can't be serious now, Dad, I hope. You know me, I'll never get married!"
But when I look at my father across his massive desk, his expression tells me that he is not joking at all. Which should not surprise me. My father never jokes. Humour is an absolute foreign word for Edward Lovhead, owner of one of the biggest romance publishers in America.
"I'm serious, son," my old man replies as expected. "You should know that I am always serious when it comes to the family business.
I know that, though. The company was always the most important thing for him, always came first - and thus, of course, before the family. Only ... "What does it have to do with the publishing house if I get married?", I ask irritated.
"A lot. Because when you get married and start a family, you make sure that Lovhead Publishing stays exactly what it is. A family business."
So the subject again. I roll my eyes. "It's going to stay that way anyway! I've already assured you that I'll take over the shop one day."
"And what comes after you? You will not stay on earth forever either, son."
"But hopefully for quite a while yet. And until then: Time will tell."
"But that's not enough for me!" my father rumbles. "You can't allow yourself this frivolity as the sole heir to this shop. Things must be settled - immediately!"
I squint my eyes. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"What I just said, I expect you to get married. If you haven't walked down the aisle in six months, I'll change my will and leave the family business to your cousin.
"Maximilian?" I widen my eyes. "You want that jerk to continue running the publishing house?"
"Maximilian has quite a bit on you, my son."
"Oh, really? What?"
"He is married and soon to be a father."
"How nice for him." Or not. "And that's all it takes to run a publishing house?"
"As you should be well aware, your cousin has been working in the company as long as you have."
"Yes, as an accountant! And he's never read anything other than his balance sheets and business studies. He has no idea what we publish!"
Do you? Do you know anything about love? But I quickly put that thought to rest. To successfully sell romance novels to women, you don't have to believe in love yourself. But you do have to know what readers expect - and that is certainly not bare figures!
"Besides, he's even more old-fashioned than you, Dad," I continue. "Instead of moving with the times, he would end up introducing potato printing."
"What you call old-fashioned is actually a sense of tradition. Lovhead Publishing has a long history. Your grandfather - my father - printed the first book in a small print shop in the back room of his bookstore in Gilbertsville and laid the foundation for our success today."
Today, the publisher's own printing plant is located in New York City and is working at full capacity. That's where they are printed: the new romance novels that appear weekly and are delivered in the form of thin paperbacks every Friday by numerous trucks to railway station bookshops, press shops and supermarkets and bookshops. A mass business. High print runs, week after week.
The official company headquarters are located here in Gilbertsville. Lovhead Manor, a huge mansion on a park-like estate. I grew up here, in the private part of the estate, where my father still lives today. The rest of the manor is the prestigious publishing house. Which means that, apart from my father, no one really works here. A make-believe world is presented here to the press, television, authors and sometimes readers: Old printing presses, a huge library, my father's old-fashioned office ... The real publishing house, on the other hand, has long been in Manhattan. And quite unromantically in a huge skyscraper. Countless offices where editors and proofreaders, graphic designers, secretaries, assistants, the accounting department, headed by my cousin, and last but not least the people from sales and distribution go about their work day in, day out.
In this skyscraper, I am the boss. As CEO and deputy publishing director. But that doesn't mean I have a free hand, especially when it comes to modernising the publishing house. The fact that our print products are also available as e-book editions was a long, hard battle that I only won in the end because my father simply had no choice but to back down. And that was only because he had to realise that we could not compensate for our declining print editions in any other way and because a publishing house that is opposed to e-books simply cannot keep up any longer.
If I now imagine that one day my cousin will be running all this - for God's sake! Before making important decisions, Maximilian would only ever think how my father would have decided and would be just as opposed to anything new as he is.
And look far too soberly at numbers.
An example: The other day an editor came to me with what I thought was a great fresh idea. She wanted to start an e-book-only series. Specifically tailored to the needs and expectations of readers who only read their romance novels digitally.
I thought it was a great idea. It would have given us the opportunity to publish even more stories than we already had and also to experiment more with the themes.
But when I approached my father with the idea, he was, as expected, not at all impressed and instructed me to first ask Maximilian whether something like this could be profitable at all. My cousin then calculated - also as expected - that we wouldn't even recoup the author's fee in the first three months after publication, based on the e-book sales of our other novels.
So nothing came of this project.
And this Maximilian - who is opposed to anything new because he only looks at the bare figures - is supposed to be at the head of the publishing house one day?
Not if I can help it!
"That may be all, Dad," I say with a touch of desperation in my voice. "But Maximilian is not the right man for the job. Maximilian is not a publishing man. He may be a good accountant, yes. But he could just as easily be that in any furniture store."
"Your love for romantic novels isn't very strong either, boy."
But she used to be. Many years ago...
"No less than with you. But unlike Maximilian, we don't see books as mere products. We know what's important to our readers."
And how I know that. From a woman who has given me more knowledge in this regard than any counsellor could have.
A woman who showed me what love is - and how quickly love can turn into suffering.
"Then you know what to do if you want to prevent your cousin from continuing the publishing house one day. Half a year - the time runs from today."
Once again I looked at my father from narrowed eyes. "Why now?" I asked. "Why do you now too suddenly get the idea that I absolutely have to be married in six months?"
"As I said before, certain things have to be settled. If something should happen to me in half a year, I want everything to be settled."
"Wait a minute." Now I'm really paying attention and squint my eyes even tighter. "Are you sick?" I ask.
Gruffly, my old man waves me off. "No, I'm not. My personal doctor checked me out yesterday. Everything is fine. But that could be completely different in six months."
Always this half year. What is there ...?
"Your birthday!", I blurt out. "In half a year it will be your birthday. You'll be ..."
"Sixty-four. That's how old my father - your grandfather - became. On the evening of his birthday he suffered a heart attack. The doctors could do nothing more for him."
"And now you think you're just going to fall over on your birthday? Come on, father, that's ridiculous. History doesn't repeat itself."
"There's no way of knowing. My decision stands, son. You know what has to be done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
I still have work to do ...
A sentence I have heard thousands of times in my life. Even as a child, I learned that after this sentence, any attempt to continue talking to my father is pointless.
"Daddy's busy, so don't bother him and go ..."
I must have been very small when I first heard these words from my mother.
And so I also know now that any attempt to bring my father to his senses would be futile.
As I find myself in my sports car shortly afterwards and make my way back to Manhattan, his suggestion continues to haunt my mind.
So my father is seriously asking me to get married - in six months!
Marry ...
This word alone is enough to make nausea rise in me. Because usually a wedding has something to do with love. And love ... love does not exist for me.
Not any more.
Not for a long time.
Yes, there were times when it was different. At least I thought I was in love. And that's exactly the time I'm thinking about now, because my father has started talking about marriage.
There she is again, before my eyes: the woman I should have forgotten long ago. Eighteen years old and of such pure beauty that I treated her like the most precious treasure on earth. I would have done anything for her, carried her on my hands.
And she thanked me by ripping out my heart and stomping on it.
I will never forget that day when she disappeared from my life, leaving behind nothing but grief, disappointment and unspeakable anger.
Is it any wonder I reacted the way I did to my father's proposal?
Wedding - in six months!
I really don't want to sound impertinent, but let's be honest: the old man must not have heard the shot.
Five months later
Melissa Channing
"Well, how are the preparations going?" my father enquires as I join him in the office to rest for a moment. "Everything to your satisfaction?"
Mason Channing is not only my father, but also the owner of the Manhattan Casinos Club. A casino where you can only play if you have been accepted as a member. And for that you have to be one thing above all.
Rich.
Stony rich.
In return, however, there are also a lot of amenities for the players. Regular special prizes in the form of luxury cars and private jets, even entire islands and skyscrapers have already been raffled off. In addition, of course, the culinary well-being of the players is taken care of at all times - and it is ensured that no man ever has to play alone if he doesn't want to. In other words: a sexy woman can always be found here.
And believe me, these women are not just here to keep the players company. All the it-girls are hoping for more, of course. For a flirt, a one-night stand - and to get a piece of the "cake" of a millionaire or billionaire.
Lately, the casino has also been offering very special events. And that's thanks to me. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Melissa Channing, Mason Channing's only daughter. Now thirty years old, I've put my wild days behind me and decided to work for my father at the casino.
And to change a few things right away and modernise the daily casino routine with fresh ideas.
I settle down on the chair in front of my father's desk and lean back. First take a breath! Then I nod. "Everything is fine. The ten women who are auctioning their services are already present. Part of the casino was already converted into an auction room this morning, including seats for the bidders and a lectern for the auctioneer."
"So for me."
"Correct. Which you don't like at all, I know."
"I would have preferred to leave that role to you. I'm more the man in the background."
"I know that too, go figure." I give him an encouraging smile. "But be honest, you fit the role of auctioneer much better than I do."
"Because I'm an old man?"
"Well, come on. You are far from being an old man. You just give a serious impression. So, the mike is checked, the hammer is ready - now it's just a matter of waiting until all the bidders have arrived and we can start."
The auction is an event that I have organised: Ten women will auction their services tonight. However, this in no way means that it will be a "disreputable" auction that takes place here. So it's not services that some people might think of now.
No, no, everything is of course absolutely serious.
"Then I'm curious," says my father. "But you were just talking about ten ladies. Didn't we only choose nine?"
I nod. "There is one more, though. Luica Blondwick."
"What is she auctioning?"
"Her services as a wedding planner. She took over an agency in Manhattan some time ago. Wedding Dream Worlds."
"Wedding planner! Don't you think she's in the wrong place? Our players have all kinds of things in mind - but not a wedding, I think."
"See, that's exactly why I gave her a chance. To change something about it." I grin cheekily at him. "I told you I'd bring a breath of fresh air into your casino ..."
Luica
I still can't really believe that I'm actually here.
Here - in this incredibly luxurious casino. The Manhattan Casino Club.
If someone had told me just a few months ago that I would ever set foot in a casino like this, I would have been deeply indignant. Me and such a ... casino? A place where people just gamble their money away? I was never interested in that kind of thing. And then a luxury place like this. There's a lot going on there that I don't really want to know about. But you hear things like that, especially in the social media. There's regularly talk of sex parties that are supposed to take place here alongside the normal casino business. But you shouldn't take everything at face value.
I, for example, am not getting anything out of normal business today. I'm here because I applied to take part in the big auction that is supposed to take place here today. This is not a normal auction, but rather a kind of theme evening for the players, in which an auction is re-enacted. And it's not just any antiques that are being auctioned off here, but services. A total of ten young female entrepreneurs have the chance tonight to draw the attention of the rich men present to their professional activities and to auction off their services accordingly.
Among these entrepreneurs are, for example, an interior decorator, a business consultant and a personal fitness trainer. I haven't made a note of the other areas of expertise now, I have enough to do with myself. I am a wedding planner and plan to auction an "all-round carefree wedding planner package" here.
How did I come up with this idea? You didn't. Because it wasn't my idea, but that of my - only - co-worker Jenny. And she not only came up with the idea, but also got straight down to business - without asking me first!
I still remember the evening when I was brooding over the accounts again and was devastated by the figures. Although Jenny had long since finished work, she came into the back room of our small agency with a huge pack of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie Ice Cream and two spoons, and together we devoured the ice cream. I poured my heart out and talked about how bad things were at the agency for the first time in Jenny's presence.
Namely, really bad. And not just since yesterday, but since I took over Wedding Dream Worlds a year ago. And even before that, but I had no idea.
Now I run an agency that makes next to nothing, but I can't and don't want to give it up. Because I feel indebted to the woman to whom I owe so much, even after her death. To her and her niece - Jenny.
Yes, it may have been naïve when I decided to accept Betty's legacy and carry on the agency. Just as naive as six years earlier when I left my hometown to seek my fortune in London. At that time I was nineteen years old and just wanted to leave everything behind and start anew - far away from the place where I grew up. Far away from my parents and the man who broke my heart and crushed the broken pieces under his feet.
Six years later, I know that my escape was useless. I still see him every night in my dreams.
How could I not? After all, everything here in Manhattan reminds me of him. All I have to do is go to the supermarket. Or in a station bookshop...
Even though I'm talking in riddles, I don't want to be more specific now. What is certain is that I still miss him, as you can only miss someone you really loved.
Love? Nonsense! I may have told myself that, but in reality it was nothing more than a crush, yes!
And yet I still think I can taste his lips on mine. Every day, and especially every night, I relive how he kissed me, how his deft fingers slid over my skin, how he made love to me....
But that really doesn't belong here and now. Back to that evening when Jenny and I stuffed ourselves with ice cream and I told her my woes with the agency: Of course Jenny knew beforehand that things were not going well. She doesn't realise how little we earn from a wedding, but she does realise how many (or rather how few) weddings we plan.
And then she blurted out her idea.
"Auction off a wedding," she said.
"Auction it off?" Perplexed, I looked at her. "Where am I supposed to auction off a wedding?"
"At the Manhattan Casino Club."
"This ...sex club? That's where I'm supposed to auction off a wedding? Where do you come up with such nonsense?"
But Jenny only had a mild smile for my reaction. "It's not a sex club," she explained, "although it might be a bit hotter than a normal casino, it's not a sex club. It's just a place where the richest of the rich hang out. What do you think you can get out of it? These billionaires and millionaires spend a lot of money on a wedding."
"That may be all." I shook my head. "But what makes you think I'm going to auction off a wedding there? I can't just go there and ask if the people there want to bid for a wedding package!"
"Of course not. You have to go on the night the whole thing takes place."
"On what is taking place?"
"The auction. A kind of theme night. Female entrepreneurs like you will auction off their services to the players present."
"Services."
Jenny rolled her eyes. "Not what you might think now. All purely professional and serious business, of course. Just like you're going to auction off a wedding package as a wedding planner."
"Would. That's pure theory. Because even if I could get as excited about this idea as you obviously do - who's to say I'd even have a chance of going along with it?"
"I say this. Because you have been chosen. Out of all the applicants! Isn't that great?"
I think at that moment I looked at her as if I thought she had completely lost it. "Applicants? Chosen? How's that? I didn't apply anywhere."
"I suppose you did," she contradicted. And added meekly: "At least officially...".
Slowly I understood. "Wait a minute, are you saying you sent an application there in my name?"
And so it was. I couldn't believe it. And of course I wanted to refuse to take part in any case.
But in the end I realised that this might be the only chance to save the agency after all. And to continue Betty's work and ensure that her niece can continue to work for me.
So now I'm here in the casino. Alone. Actually, I had planned for Jenny to come along and support me. Now I'll give you three guesses who is at home in bed with a bad cold. That's right: Jenny. Who I have to thank for all this.
"Are you all right, Miss Blondwick?"
I immediately recognise the friendly female voice behind me that snaps me out of my thoughts at that moment. It belongs to Melissa, the daughter of the casino owner. He had already welcomed me and the other women entrepreneurs participating in the auction event when I arrived earlier, showed us the premises we are allowed to enter and familiarised us with tonight's schedule.
I turn to her and look into her friendly smiling face. "Oh, Melissa. Yes ... everything's fine. Why do you ask?"
"Well, you just looked a little lost standing here next to the lectern ..."
"I just prepared myself mentally and rehearsed a bit for myself," I reply.
"You're excited?"
At first I want to shake my head, but who am I kidding? So I nod. "And how," I concede. "I've never done anything like this before. And honestly never thought I'd do something like this either."
"You're like the other participants," explains Melissa. "And it's a first for us here, too, because it's the first event of its kind in my father's casino." She winks at me. "It's best if you do as the other women entrepreneurs do. Find a comfortable seat in the lounge area and enjoy the amenities provided." Again she winks at me. "Champagne, enjoyed in moderation, can definitely chase away the excitement. I will also retire to relax a little before the event begins."
Only now, when he raises his right arm, do I see that she has been holding a book in her hand the whole time.
At first glance I recognise what kind of book it is.
You've got to be kidding! Is it not even here, in a casino like this, that one is safe from memories that one actually only wants to banish?
I swallow. "You read ... such novels?" I ask in amazement.
She looks at the book, then at me. "Are you surprised that a successful businesswoman reads romance novels?" She raises her shoulders. "What could be more beautiful than love?" she asks, then turns away and leaves me alone.
I take a deep breath. I think I really need a glass of champagne now. Not only because of the excitement before tonight, but above all to drive away the ghosts.
The ghosts of the past.
*
"So you see how important it can be not to rely only on the big management consulting firms, which find it impossible to deviate from well-trodden paths. Once learned, everything remains valid, no matter how much time has passed since then. If, on the other hand, you dare to try a young, fresh consultancy, you could well save millions of dollars a year with their help - and then year after year. Thank you, gentlemen, and I look forward to your bids."
Paula Young, the young management consultant who has just impressively presented her skills, looks expectantly over at Mason Channing, who is standing behind his desk to her right and is now speaking into the microphone:
"Thank you very much, Miss Young, for your very interesting comments." Then he lets his gaze wander over the bidders sitting in several rows in front of the lectern. "Now, gentlemen, please place your bids."
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Bildmaterialien: rabbit75_dep (Songquan Deng) phoenixstockphoto.gmail.com (Oleh Kirilienko) via depositphotos
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 06.08.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-4888-4
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