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Bittersweet Love Story

Karin Lindberg

A Bittersweet Love Story

Author: Karin Lindberg

www.karinlindberg.info

Editor: Katrin Engstfeld

http://www.kalliope-lektorat.de/

Translator: Hilary Whitely

Cover: www.kreativi-production.de

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.

“It’s my life
And it’s now or never
I ain’t gonna live forever
I just wanna live while I’m alive…”

The lyrics drifted from the speakers in the ladies room. How fitting.

Somehow I had imagined my twenty fifth birthday differently.

Oh God. Twenty five!

Well, not yet. The bell would toll for me at midnight. Five years ago, if you’d asked me the age-old job interview question “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I would have replied with something along the lines of: “At 25, I will be with a gorgeous, intelligent guy in the Bahamas, where we are taking a break from our stressful careers. When I'm not pampering myself on the beach in paradise, I'll be working for a global corporation where I am irreplaceable. After work, if my partner and I aren't going out somewhere fancy for dinner, we're relaxing in our fancy downtown condo apartment.

Reality was a bit different, though. I wasn't crying into my beer about all of the opportunities I'd missed in my life so far, but I had a much more pressing problem at that moment: There I was, in the ladies room at Christiansen’s, trying to scrub the remains of a strawberry daiquiri off my jeans. Looks like I was just making it worse, though. Crap. I really had no other choice – I needed to take them off. It looked like I’d peed my pants. I took a seat on the stool along the wall while I considered which of my options was less likely to make me die of shame. Actually, it wasn't too bad here in the ladies' room. The music was pretty good and there was no one here to annoy me. Maybe I should just stay where I was and wait until everything had dried. On the other hand, though, the idea of spending my birthday in the restroom wasn't all that tempting. I could just imagine the conversation I would have with any future love interests asking about how I'd celebrated milestones. “And where did you celebrate your twenty-fifth birthday?” “In the ladies' room.”

Best-case scenario: I'd get a few sympathetic looks for what people would assume was a nasty tummy bug... My wet pants were still stuck to my bottom and I put off making a decision while I ran through the past twenty-five years of my life.

Here were the facts: my mom was German, my dad was English; they were divorced. I’d managed to finish school. By the skin of my teeth, but I got there. Didn’t make it too far in college, though. I couldn't really remember why I'd quit, but if it had been the right place for me to be, then I probably would have finished my degree. Seemed better to start with something new instead. I just hadn’t found the right thing yet. So my glorious career? Yeah, not so much.

But who knows? I did have a job interview that coming Monday at Stein Energy, Inc., after all. Maybe things were finally looking up. No, they definitely were, because I was determined to get that job.

My fancy downtown condo? Yeah, not so much either. My sad little salary was only enough for a room in a shared apartment. The silver lining, though, was Isabelle, my platonic relationship replacement. At least living with a roommate proved that I was capable of living with someone else, contrary to what Mr. Unright had claimed. In fact, I am a pretty good at it.

As far as the brilliant hottie was concerned, that was a No as well. Alas, Mr. Right just hadn’t crossed my path yet. After the fiasco with Paul (who was decidedly Mr. Unright), I had definitely preferred to stay single. For now.

I had read the other day in Cosmo that children whose parents are divorced tend to have trouble with relationships when they grow up. Maybe that was true in my case. Actually, when I thought about it, it seemed pretty fitting. Why else was I sitting here alone?! My parents had split up when I was eight. My dad moved back to northern England while my mom stayed in Hamburg, Germany with me and I had grown up in an apartment on the sixth floor. Things really could only get better from there…

I sighed and got up. Enough wallowing in self-pity. There would be plenty of time for that tomorrow, too.

I looked in the mirror and checked my reflection. My legs were much too thin and this dress was much too short. I was practically half-naked, but that was better than people thinking I have a weak bladder. Isabelle certainly wouldn’t be bothered by my outfit – she saw me naked just about every day at home and it took a lot more to embarrass her. So I tucked my jeans under my arm and made my way through the bar back to our table as nonchalantly as I could in light of my sparingly clad body. Isabelle was waiting impatiently, fidgeting around on the edge of her stool.

“Geez, you took like a hundred years, as usual! Did you stop for a nap?”

“Listen, Izzy, I don’t even want to think about what kind of a scene you would have caused if that strawberry daiquiri had landed on your pants!” I glared at Isabelle.

“Easy now, hun! Calm down. I just thought we wanted to have some fun tonight. You need to find yourself a guy again. Unwind a bit! Forget about Paul for once and for all and start living again!”

“I am calm!”

A sudden wave of laughter came over me. She was right, actually. When, if not today?

“Let’s order another round. I’m on a mission, after all!”

A few strawberry daiquiris later we decided to migrate from Christiansen’s to CH on the Reeperbahn, the heart of Hamburg’s club scene. As we headed outside, the ground suddenly started to sway beneath me. My sense of balance betrayed me and launched me into a gorgeous, tanned would-be Adonis. Too much gel in his hair for my taste, too much of the surfer wannabe type, and definitely too much time in a tanning salon.

“Oh, hey there, beautiful. You could just come over and talk to me if you’re interested, you don’t have to knock me over!”

Asshole.

Who did he think he was, anyway, with a line like that? I couldn’t stand guys like that. Yuck.

“Listen up, ‘bro’! I didn’t do it on purpose and you’re definitely not my type!” In a fit of rage, I spun around and rammed right into the next guy.

How embarrassing.

He was good-looking and well-dressed on top of it. Eyes as blue as the ocean looked down at me as we collided full-on and his mojito splashed out onto his shirt and not my dress – lucky me - or I could have been a contender in the next wet t-shirt contest. I felt a deep blush spreading up from my neck. Great. Was I not going to be spared any potential for embarrassment today?

“Ohmygod, I am soooo sorry!” Luckily it was dark enough in the bar that this gorgeous guy with the dark hair couldn’t see how red my face was.

“Don’t worry about it, it was an old shirt anyway,” he shrugged off his involuntary cocktail shower with a wink.

“Geez, I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

He furrowed his brow and pressed his lips together as if he was actually thinking about it. Then he grinned. “Hmm. Well if you put it that way – give me your number!”

The alcohol had loosened me up and gave me the courage I needed. The fact that Isabelle was standing right behind me was the deciding factor – the chance to prove to her that I am perfectly capable of having fun, thank you very much, did not come along every day. I was done listening to her silly comments. I would show her I'm not a “lame-o”, as she had claimed last time we had gone out. Without thinking about any potential ramifications, I took his face between my hands and kissed him passionately. It felt great. His lips parted and he kissed me back eagerly.

Incredible.

After a few seconds I pulled away and whispered into his ear: “If you want my number, you’ll just have to find it out on your own. See ya!”

A flash of disappointment flickered in his blue eyes, but it gave way to the usual shine after a moment.

“Alright, my mysterious beauty, if you’re really just gonna leave me hanging here...” He cocked his head to one side and stared up at me with the look of a scolded puppy.

Adorable.

My stomach was practically dancing with butterflies and I was having a hard time looking away.

“Anna, are you coming or do you want to stay here and flirt?” Isabelle, the embodiment of impatience, was anxious to go out dancing, so I didn't have a ton of time to analyze my somewhat questionable actions.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged, then smiled at my blue-eyed stranger. “Sorry, gotta run!” And with that, I left him.

“See ya, Anna!” I heard him call. I could feel his eyes on me as we left.

The cool night air sobered me up a bit. The slight breeze felt good, though, after the stuffiness of the bar. That kiss had left me pretty flustered. It certainly couldn’t hurt to cool off a bit.

“What the heck was that all about, Anna?”

I caught Isabelle's reproachful glare. “Hey, you said I should have some fun. So I figured, go do something spontaneous, Anna. And then I kissed a hot guy. That’s having fun, is it not? And don't say that's not what you meant, cuz that's not fair. There's nothing I can do that you think is right, is there?” I was getting myself worked up the more I talked.

“If you say so… Happy birthday!”

She probably realized that she shouldn't push the matter further. I really could be pretty quick-tempered if I didn't like something.

Isabelle wrapped me up in a massive bear hug and then planted a kiss on my cheek. That was all it took to ease my anger and I curled into her embrace.

“Thanks. The last few months have been pretty rough, you know. I could really use a bit of distraction after all the Paul drama.”

“It's okay, I totally get it. Come on. Enough moping around – let's go PARTY!” Isabelle dragged me behind her – she had a clear goal in mind.

We hit the dance floor soon after that. I usually hated being in a crowd of so many sweaty people, but I’d already had enough to drink that I could ignore it. I closed my eyes and let the music guide me. It felt good to let the rhythm lead me. I'd lost all sense of time a few cocktails ago, but at some point the club was more or less empty and they were playing those classic songs that the clubs always play at the end of the night to get everyone to go home. We stumbled out to the street and set off in search of a taxi.

The sun was already starting to rise when the cab dropped us off in front of our apartment. I loved the fresh morning air in the summer, especially on those days where you could tell it was going to be unbearably hot in just a few hours. But for now it was still refreshingly cool.

I had a bit of trouble unlocking the door, since the stupid key did not want to go into the lock. Isabelle stood next to me, looking slightly green and whining. It was pretty clear what was about to happen. Luckily Izzy had managed to make it home this time before the evening got the better of her and she ended up hugging the toilet seat. Last time we hadn’t been so lucky – she had started puking during the ride home and the cab driver had kicked us out. The worst part of that night had been that we had to walk the last two miles to get home. At least that way I had been spared the unpleasant process of sobering up. This time I was much better off than Izzy, though I had also had more than enough to drink. I even managed to help her up the stairs. Which was a good thing, since the excess consumption of alcohol had put the idea in her head that the stairs were a good place to sleep. I managed to talk her out of that, luckily. Our neighbors would certainly not have appreciated finding a puddle of puke in the hallway and I really was not in the mood to start my birthday with a mop in hand. Which is why I was kind of relieved to hear her retching in the bathroom, knowing that we would be spared any other unpleasantness.

It had sobered me up completely, though. I needed to put some distance between myself and the bathroom, so I headed into the kitchen to look for a snack. Even Isabelle's queasiness wasn't enough to affect my robust constitution. All that dancing had really made me hungry, so I started to raid the fridge. My quest turned up two slices of pizza from yesterday. Awesome! Usually our fridge was as empty as my bank account, after all. I pulled back the aluminum foil and took a huge bite of the cold pizza. Since I had both hands full, I used my elbow to shove the door closed. My legs were starting to feel a bit tired from all that dancing, so I sat down at our little kitchen table and scarfed down the rest of my midnight snack happily.

“Cold pizza. Yer so gross, Anna,” my dear friend Izzy, recently returned to the realm of the living, commented. She clearly felt better after her sojourn to the bathroom. That was a last-ditch option for me. Usually my stance was: I paid for it, so I was gonna keep it down.

“Thank you, my darling Isabelle. You are so incredibly charming on this lovely morning, which happens to still be my birthday. So be nice to me, please. I need sympathy, not judgment! And remember: I'm twenty-five now. I'm ancient.”

“Y’know what? I’ve had enough for today. I’ma go hit the hay. I can't take your self-pity right now.” She pressed a rum-soaked kiss on my cheek and disappeared into her room, leaving me all alone in the kitchen. I was still much too awake to go to bed, so I grabbed a cold Sprite from the fridge and headed out to our pathetic little balcony to enjoy the sunrise.

So there it was. 25. It’s just a number, really.

But it was probably time for me to start thinking about where my life was headed. Things couldn't keep going the way they were. What would be next?

30… 40…

What a nightmare to realize at that age that you’d wasted your whole life. Nothing to show for it, living off welfare. A terrible thought. Others made New Year’s resolutions, why shouldn’t I make resolutions for this new year of my life?

Starting today, I was going to get serious!

It probably wasn’t the best start to go kissing strangers in a bar, but I wasn’t going to think about that any more. I wasn’t going to see him again anyway, and that was yesterday's news. The advantage to living in a city as big as Hamburg was the low likelihood of embarrassing re-encounters after an outburst of excessive spontaneity.

You always meet twice, they say!

Figures. The voice in my head, my conscience guardian, could never shut up.

'Good morning, Mr. CeeGee. Thanks for reminding me,' I thought.

I sighed and took a long drink. He sounded cranky. It was probably the alcohol. He was obviously not at all amused that I had had so much to drink last night and that we had danced the night away at the club until the bitter end. I had gotten used to having a voice in my head that was not my own. It always piped up just when my pride was about to feel hurt or he had other less-than-helpful comments to make about my life. I ignored his quips – I really was not in the mood for that at this time of day. So instead I decided to go to sleep rather than to keep staring at the rising sun.

Something was strange in my dream. What was that weird noise on my island? There wasn’t supposed to be any electricity. There was nothing there other than my little hut made of palm leaves and a hammock to soak up the sun in. The palm trees were bending in the breeze and the sea was the most incredible shade of blue. Like Ocean Guy’s eyes. Ocean Guy?

Wait, what was he doing here?!

And what the heck is that noise? I wanted to stay on my island and enjoy the quiet, but my dream world slowly faded away...

Well that was that. I was awake. The noise turned out to be my cellphone ring tone. The screen blinked as the phone buzzed: Mom.

“Good morning, Mom,” I croaked into the phone.

“Happy birthday, Anna! Did I wake you up? You weren’t still sleeping, were you? It’s already after 11! I wanted to ask when you are coming over today. I baked a cake for you. I bet you’re excited about your present and we’re looking forward to seeing you… It’s been a while since you’ve come by!”

“Geez Mom, let me wake up first.” I rubbed my eyes but decided against opening them just yet.

My mother generally talked a mile a minute. It was like she was afraid to run out of time before she’d managed to convey all the latest news and goings-on. A bit annoying early in the morning.

“What? You really were still asleep? Did you go out last night? Did you meet someone? Do you have a boyfriend?! Anna?”

“Geez, Mom! I’ll be over at three! See you then!” And with that, I hung up and rolled over in bed. I tried to fall asleep again, but it wasn't happening. My stomach felt exactly like it does after one has had too much to drink. Somewhat queasy was definitely an understatement. Plus my head was throbbing. I desperately needed some aspirin. The hope of getting rid of that nasty headache was the only thing that could get me out of bed right about then. After giving myself a stern pep talk, I managed to drag myself out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. Isabelle was on the pot reading a gossip magazine.

“Morning, Izzy.”

“Morning, Anna.”

Neither of us is a morning person, so we knew that conversation within the first half hour after waking up was pointless. People who are perky and happy early in the morning kind of make me want to go on a murderous spree. How can they be in such a good mood right after waking up? Terrible! And there definitely wasn't anything good about this morning. I rummaged around the medicine cabinet behind the mirror for the aspirin and swallowed it down with a sip of water from the faucet. Then I splashed some water on my face and grabbed my toothbrush. As the bristles circled over my teeth, I caught myself day-dreaming about the ocean.

“Hurry up, I need to wash my hands and brush my teeth too,” Isabelle whined, tearing me out of my little dream world and nudging me away from the sink.

“Easy there, young lady! I’m not as fast as I used to be – I’m a quarter of a century old now, things take a little longer!”

We’d been living together for four years and were like an old married couple at that point – at least that’s how I think old married couples are. There were no secrets left between us. Some people might find it weird that we had given up locking the bathroom door, but we had decided that life outside our four walls was complicated enough without having to fight for the bathroom at home.

I was still ridiculously tired and looked the part too. I still felt a little nauseous, but I was really wanted some coffee. Hopefully my stomach could survive a bit of caffeine. I certainly was not going to be drinking alcohol again anytime soon.

Isabelle was in the shower as I headed into the kitchen to get our ancient coffee machine going. Man, if only this day were over already!

I rang the bell at my mom’s house at exactly 3 PM. Hubert, her new boyfriend, opened the door and greeted me with a massive hug as if he was trying to suffocate me. “Happy birthday, Anna. I’m glad to see you!”

Hubert had a receding hairline, a walrus mustache and about forty extra pounds around the belly. He certainly wasn’t my idea of a dream guy – I prefer men that are a bit more sporty and masculine – but if he was the one my mother chose then I wasn’t going to judge. It was her life, after all, and I was happy that she wasn’t alone anymore. There was also something very lovable and honest about his openness. I was probably just being too superficial, even though I should have learned my lesson not to do that after Paul!

My mother came rushing out of the kitchen with her apron spotted with bits of chocolate and her cheeks flushed from the stress of baking.

“Hello, my dear! Happy birthday!”

She planted a kiss on my cheek and hugged me tightly. After what felt like three hours, she let me go again and I followed her into the dining room. And there he was – what the heck? – Paul. Speak of the devil! How could she do this to me?

I felt my jaw clench as I forced myself to smile. How could my own mother get the ridiculous idea to invite me ex-boyfriend to my birthday? A dozen red roses, a gift and a hug later, I felt myself being drawn in again. And here I had just started to get over him and the fact that he had cheated on me with an untold number of other women. It had taken two years for me to find out and it had been a huge shock, not to mention the humiliation. My confidence had all but vanished at the time. Just like my mood at that moment.

Luckily I had never followed Paul’s suggestion to move in with him. That would have made things much, much worse. The fact that my mother had invited him just underlined her ignorance and unshakable wishful thinking. For her, Paul was still the perfect son-in-law: tall, muscular, wealthy parents, degree in business, good-looking with a smile straight out of a toothpaste commercial, and thick dark-blond hair. Every mother-in-law’s dream – and also that of all the women that fell for him. Paul had demonstrated his suitability as a lover to every woman that allowed herself to be blinded by him.

Until I had figured it out.

I really wanted to give him a swift kick in the groin, but as members of a civilized world I was forced to seek my revenge in another way. I had cut off all contact with him, or at least I had tried to. My tactics had clearly inspired some sort of prey instinct in him since he was now running after me like a puppy dog. He had obviously taken my mother’s invitation as an opportunity to demonstrate his eternal love. And now there was no getting rid of him. I had spent enough time licking my wounds. I'd finally put my heartache behind me: he meant nothing to me. Less than nothing. And now here he was, standing in front of me and annoying the crap out of me.

We never want what we can have, and what we have is not good enough. Hmpf!

“Well, sit, sit, you two! Paul, you come sit here next to Anna.”

She presented her Super Chocolate Birthday Cake with a beaming smile.

“Anna, darling, first you have to blow out all twenty five candles. And make a wish!”

Oh geez. I could barely take it. Where was Marty McFly with his time machine – or whatever Michael J. Fox's character in “Back to the Future” was called – when I needed him? There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to have someone beam me out of this awkward gathering.

Wait, that's Star Trek.

I rolled my eyes and went along with it to avoid a scene. There was no way I could deal with arguing with her in my current state.

“Oh, how nice. Anna, I hope you wished for the right thing,” Paul said.

'I sure did, you ass. I wish that you would disappear into thin air!' I thought to myself. But instead I said “We’ll see about that, Paul.” I sent him a forced smile. I might not be particularly successful; I might not be particularly pretty. At 5’7” I was too thin for my height, my long brown hair could use a trim and my skin was a sickly shade of gray after that night of partying, as the mirror in my mom's hallway had reminded me.

But I still had my pride.

I’d long passed the point of desperation, though my mother refused to acknowledge that.

Damn. If only Daddy could be here. He would be on my side. He would probably have punched out a few of Paul’s pretty white teeth.

I felt a grin coming on. I would have liked that. Daddy protects his little princess. Just like the old days.

Unfortunately my dad didn’t come to visit often. He didn’t earn enough as a consultant to fly to Germany multiple times a year, but we did manage to see each other when we could. During school I had spent most of my vacations with him. I had a lot of fond memories of rainy Northern English summers. I missed him. He was the kind of person you didn’t have to say a lot to and yet he still understands your thoughts and feelings. It had taken a while for me to accept that I wouldn’t have a real family with Mom and Daddy anymore, but these days I had come to terms with it. It was at times like these, though, that I really missed him. Even adults sometimes need a shoulder to lean on.

Mom’s cake was incredible, as always, though I had to throw in the towel after the first big piece. Too rich for my poor stomach. Paul showered my mom with compliments; he just knew exactly how to tell women of any age exactly what they wanted to hear. She was practically hanging onto his every word and kept winking at me as if she were planning something. As if she didn't know that I had split up with him because he had cheated on me time and again. I found myself wishing for a good stiff drink despite my recent resolve never to drink again. But even that wish went unanswered. Mom set about clearing the table while Hubert took a nap on the couch. Reason enough for Paul to slide closer to me and start chatting my ear off. He certainly was a good talker. I was quickly reminded why I had fallen for him back in the day.

I said my goodbyes at around seven before I could forget all my resolutions after just a few hours. I still had to prepare for my job interview the next day, I remembered with a bit of uneasiness. This time I was going to nail it. My new life at 25!

Unfortunately Paul seized the opportunity to be alone with me. Not that I was surprised at all. He had probably showed up for birthday cake at my mom's for a very specific reason. He'd made that pretty clear in the past few hours, that was for sure. But he also had a deliciously broad chest and a seductive smile.

Crap.

Stay strong! Mr. CeeGee cried.

“Anna, hang on a second. I need to talk to you.” I was rooted in place in the gaze of his brown eyes, my stupid legs unable to get me even a single millimeter away from Paul.

“Haven’t we talked like a hundred times? I really don't think there’s anything left to say,” I protested quietly.

“I love you, Anna. How many times am I supposed to keep saying it? I’m sorry.”

He stared at me with his puppy-dog eyes and a look of innocence. Then his arms wrapped around me and my self-control melted away. I can’t tell if it was from being tired or from all of the weight of the last quarter century, but before I knew it, we were locking lips in the park. And holy crap, he was such a good kisser... My body remembered our past all too well. We'd always been an excellent match where that was concerned. I felt weak, let his strong arms hold me close as he kissed me. It felt good to have someone want me.

My heart was racing and my breaths were coming in too quickly. My brain had shut down minutes ago and my hormones had taken over.

I don’t know how long we were there, but we somehow ended up at his apartment and I found myself naked and pretty satisfied in his bed. He lay snoring quietly next to me.

We'd hooked up again.

Holy crap, Anna! What had happened to my self-control, my sense of self-worth? Now I was just one of many again. I'd moved on from here. Why did I keep doing this to myself?

I got dressed as quietly as I could. What would have happened if he hadn’t cheated? Would we still be together? With a bright and shining future? Happily ever after? Who knows? All I knew at that moment was that I needed to get out of there as quickly as I could. Otherwise it would just start all over again.

“Anna, babe. Don’t go! Come back to bed!” He waved me over sleepily.

“Oh, Paul, I’m sorry. This was a huge mistake. We have nothing more to say to each other.”

And with that I stormed out of his apartment. Paul lived about a block from the park and about half a mile from my mother’s apartment. Hopefully he wouldn’t run after me again to cause a scene all the way back to my car. Like last time.

Last time?

Oh right.

For some inexplicable reason, I just kept falling for the charms of Paul Hinze. Terrible. Mr. CeeGee was not at all happy with me, voicing his protests loudly and angrily.

What the heck, Anna? Will you never grow up? I thought your new life was supposed to start today. And the first thing you do is hop into bed with your ex.

Alright, alright already. I got it. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak.

I was a little out of breath when I got to my car. Maybe I should start going to the gym again, I thought as I added it to my mental to-do list for my new life. But I'd had enough of everything for today. My old red clunker and I made our way through Hamburg. If I still smoked, I would have lit up a cigarette then. But I gave that up a year ago – bad for your skin and for your wallet.

Crap.

At that moment I regretted the decision. My phone rang – it was my dad calling to wish me a happy birthday. That took my mind of my latest mistake for a bit and it was nice to talk to Daddy for a bit.

It was dark by the time I’d found a parking spot to squeeze into and got to the house door. Hopefully Izzy was in bed already. I really wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation and she had an innate ability to notice when something was up.

I was lucky. No sign of her, and her bedroom door was closed. With a sigh, I slunk into our bathroom. Its beige tiles and turquoise shower curtain were a far cry from stylish, but it was cozy. Every square inch was filled with little bottles of perfume, shampoo, lotion and other cosmetics. You could definitely tell that women lived here. After getting ready for bed, I did some research about Stein Energy, Inc. and jotted down some notes of answers I could give at tomorrow’s interview. It wasn’t really my way of doing things, but I wanted to change my life, after all, and that wasn’t going to happen if I stuck to my old ways all the time.

Deep breaths.

I was standing in front of the Stein Energy, Inc. building and my heart was racing. I was ten minutes early, but it certainly couldn't hurt to arrive early and show how reliable you are.

The lady at the information desk told me to go to the tenth floor, where the CEO’s office was, and to report in the office there.

Wow. This was the coolest building I had ever been in. The marbled entrance area had an open, spacious feel to it. Two revolving doors led into the foyer, where the elevators to the offices were. My imagination was creating a movie in which I played the fabulous leading role. I floated past in stunning designer clothes and killer heels, carrying top-secret files that would save the world to a closed-doors meeting...

The ding of the elevator snapped me back to reality. I followed the hallway down to the reception office outside the CEO’s office. The CEO was looking to hire a new Executive Assistant, which I was hoping to become. What kind of guy is he? I wondered. I had had an interview with the HR Manager the week before, and I had apparently made a good enough impression in it to get to this next round of interviews. It had been hard to tell, though, whether he had been more impressed by my answers or my outfit. He had definitely been the sleazy type, with greasy hair, flabby around the midriff and a ridiculously flashy Rolex. But if the HR Manager could afford a Rolex, then this was clearly the right company for Anna Barker.

I introduced myself to the woman at the desk, a lean blonde in her mid-forties, and she showed me into the CEO’s office. So she was the one I would hopefully replace...

She opened the door for me and I stepped inside. Holy mother of Christ! I just barely managed to keep myself from letting out a whistle. The furniture was worth more than I had ever earned in a year.

It had a stylish design with black USM Haller furniture. The walls were adorned with modern art and the black leather sofa was flanked by two strange sculptures that had probably cost a fortune but were far from pretty. I may not have grown up in rich circles, but I had learned a thing or two about “important” status symbols during my time with Paul. It still baffled me that a simple table could cost thousands of euros just because it was made by a famous company, but I guess it’s the same with Prada handbags. I understood the idea behind it, though I would probably never be able to afford one. At least not on my current salary.

Mr. Stein turned out to be a thin older gentleman with slightly mussed gray hair. He’d just introduced himself and gestured that I take a seat in the chair opposite his polished desk when the office door opened and a fragile-looking older woman in a Chanel suit came in, nodded curtly and headed straight towards me.

“Hello, Ms... uh...”

“Barker,” I supplied.

“…Ms. Barker, oh, how lovely! I’m glad I got to meet you too. I’m Mrs. Stein. Come over here, it’s much more comfortable. I just happened to be in the area and thought I’d join you.”

She clearly was not going to take “No” for an answer and Mr. Stein stood up with a smile and moved to the couch, seating himself to the right of his wife. Luckily my outfit was not too risque, otherwise Mrs. Stein would probably have culled me from the selection pool then and there.

Now it was Mr. Stein’s turn to address me. “Mr. Schneider was very impressed with you after your meeting with him last week, Ms. Barker,” he began with a friendly smile.

Hopefully that sleazy macho HR creep wouldn’t try to hit on me if I got the job.

“As you know, I am looking for a personal assistant. You already know what your responsibilities would be. One thing that I feel is important to know is whether you would be willing to travel often. Would you be willing, for example, to travel about one week out of each month, sometimes more, at short notice and to make all the necessary arrangements? I also expect my personal assistant to keep an eye on my email inbox at all times. I’m an old man; I only learned to use computers and all this electronic nonsense late in life. Let’s be honest: I avoid it as much as possible. But I do need to stay with the times and be reachable.”

I was just about to assure him that I was entirely willing to do so, as it was pretty much my favorite thing in the world, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand and continued:

“It’s also very important to me to make a good impression on trips abroad and in correspondence in English. But that shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you, being half British, right?”

That sounded like pretty tough work. Of course I would say that I could handle everything he said he needed. The doubts of whether I actually could manage it all wouldn't get me anywhere, never mind the uneasy feeling in my stomach that I always got when the word “traveling” came up.

I was terrified of flying. I loved the idea of traveling to faraway places – as long as I was far enough from the airport. But I didn’t want to think about that at the moment. So I enthusiastically announced my agreement with those conditions.

“One last question: It’s important to me that my employees are reliable, and I need to be able to count on them. I noticed that you did not finish your university degree. May I ask why?”

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Karin Lindberg
Bildmaterialien: Karin Lindberg, Fotolia
Lektorat: Katrin Engstfeld
Übersetzung: Hilary Whitely
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.12.2015
ISBN: 978-3-7396-2743-4

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