by Tanja Neise
Meanwhile, the entirety of the rest of the day had been settled for me workwise, which meant a vacuum was created in my mind that only provided space for this delicate little lady. Her red hair blazed through my thoughts and her green eyes were piercingly fixated on me. She was a beauty of nature, but she skilfully hid it behind glasses, a tight plait and clothes that no one wore today.
In the meantime, I was angry at myself. Why hadn’t I taken her right there and then? She would have succumbed to my charm and wouldn’t have been able to resist my powers of persuasion, and I would now be the same old guy again – working efficiently and not distracted. But I had hesitated; I’d been shocked at myself and my desires. Simply: I had missed my chance. This one time. It would not happen again!
A short time later, Dark, as he called himself, was sitting across from me. The name was definitely a statement, as was his clothing, which was also only made of black fabrics. The edges of his eyes were tattooed in the same colour and he looked like one of those villains from the films that were shot at the end of the twentieth century. Furthermore, he was tall and stocky and portrayed an enormous toughness. Anyone who didn't know him kept out of his way, and even those who had already met him avoided him. Dark was not a typical computer specialist, as he also took on quite different tasks for me, and he accompanied me every now and then on short business trips when problems were to be expected. Otherwise, he took care of the office here in Seattle. Despite the many years we had now worked together, we still addressed each other formally. I kept a businesslike distance from all my employees – Oh, what am I saying? – from all living creatures.
“Begin!” I ordered him indignantly, and did not regret my tone in any way. I simply pulled rank and I had this problem, or whatever you wanted to call this woman, sitting in my gut. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, hoping not to overshoot the mark and destroy something that didn't belong to me.
Olivia Morgan
I finished the test using my fingerprint on the display to carry out the proof of identity procedure, which confirmed that it was my work I was submitting; at that very moment, the unpleasant feeling returned. It was a feeling that someone was behind me and made the fine hairs on my arms stand up on end. Carefully, I looked around, but again I couldn’t see anyone behaving conspicuously towards me in any way. Most of the people’s heads were still lowered and the students’ fingers noisily swept over the glass of the displays as they gave their answers. The high ceilings made all the sounds reverberate twice as loudly, so everyone was anxious to make as little noise as possible.
Maybe my nerves were slowly going crazy and I was just imagining it all. At a loss, I shook my head at myself. I urgently had to switch off, let my soul relax a little. All the pressure I had been under for months was probably noticeable. There was no other way I could explain this uneasiness. I normally got the feeling for a short period of time that I was in danger, but today it had been going on for hours. And if I was honest with myself, I couldn't call my behaviour last night normal, either. I had never fainted before in my whole life.
The examination was over, the displays went out and Professor Walthers looked up. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you have already noticed, time’s up, for the examination. Thank God it’s not your time that’s up, if I may say so.” He smiled briefly at himself, but quickly noticed that no one except him reacted to his joke. “You are hereby released for the weekend. See you on Monday!”
Everybody got up, sighing, and the noise that followed did nothing for my overstrained nerves. I made my way straight outside and eagerly sucked in the fresh air. Birds were chirping and students were scurrying around. I tried to fade out everything around me and focus. Focussing inwards was an exercise my mother had taught me. She had always been very interested in psychology, even though she had never graduated and had only ever done cleaning, she had helped me a lot. Actually, she wasn’t my real mother, but in my heart she was. Unfortunately, she had died two years ago, one year after her beloved husband. She loved him so much that she suffered from a broken heart; at the end, the doctors couldn't even say what had caused her to die. This made it clear to me again and again that there were things between heaven and earth that could not be explained. If I practised medicine later myself, I could not forget that.
Today was one of the few days when I had the afternoon at my disposal. Determined to enjoy this break from my everyday life, I took myself to my favourite café. The streets were deserted, hardly anyone had time to go for a walk. Everyone was busy at that time of day. The closer I got to the house where the café was, the less I felt an immediate danger, yet I was uneasy.
Tascino was situated off the main roads and had developed from a former Italian bag shop, after which it had been named. It was small and very cosy and I liked coming here. I could sit in the corner of the café, sip a cup of tea and watch people or read a good book for hours. But unfortunately, I had that opportunity far too rarely. It was furnished entirely in the style of the last century and various pieces of furniture gave the whole place a feeling of cosiness that I missed in bare, ultra-modern restaurants.
When I entered, no members of staff were to be seen. My feet carried me to my regular place as if by themselves. Shortly before I got to the table, however, I stopped abruptly. Besides me, there was only one other guest at Tascino – a man – and he was sitting in my favourite spot, of all places. He was tall, as I could see from the long legs that were sticking out from under the table, and he had dark hair. As I approached, my breath faltered.
“M ... M ... Mister Tensington?” I stammered, confused, when I recognised the attractive man. He was sitting in the exact seat I had been heading for. He was leaning back casually in the armchair and, nonetheless, seemed as out of place as a butler in a cow shed. Everything about him radiated power and wealth. The café was by no means shabby, but the room still lacked elegance.
He looked up and for a moment I forgot why I had come here. Time seemed to stand still until he stood up and pulled me out of my stupor. “Hello, Miss...?”
Of course he didn't know my name. How could he? I was one of thousands of employees in this city. And there were other branches of his company in many other cities. So how would he know who I was? The little cleaning lady who had fallen at his feet last night. He had to remember that, or did the women do it more often in his presence? Only then did it occur to me that I still had the turban on my head and that it certainly made me look completely different. My hand trembled and moved upwards, only to fall down again shortly afterwards, unsettled.
Pull yourself together Liv! I thought. “Hello, Mr Tensington, I’m Olivia Morgan. I work for you. Please stay sitting, I won't bother you any further.” The words emerged from my lips, hectically. I was all too aware of his presence and had to control myself, so as not to run away from him. His presence intimidated me. In addition, last night’s fainting was very embarrassing for me. Okay, I couldn't really help it, yet the thought of it was terrible for me. “Thank you so much for putting me on your sofa last night.” What was I talking about? That he put me on the sofa? Oh my God! He must have thought I was a dumb cow.
His gaze continued to rest seriously on my face, as if considering whether he should talk to me at all, or as if he was looking for something in it. Tensington was wearing black jeans that sat like a glove on his thighs. They were surely made to measure for him, together with the white, long-sleeved shirt that emphasised his well-trained body, which probably didn't have a gram of fat on it. How could anyone concentrate on a conversation at such a sight? The attraction he exerted on me was frightening. Instantly, I felt the need to drink. There was a desert-like dryness in my mouth.
“You are welcome.” His voice vibrated warmly and deeply through my guts and I had to suppress a sigh. “Sit with me, please.” He made an inviting gesture.
The lump in my throat was big and I had to swallow hard to press the next words out of my mouth. “No, no, you don't have to invite me to you
r table. Um, I'll just sit at one of the other tables, there are still some free. Please excuse me if I disturbed you.” With these words I wanted to turn around and walk, but the gentle touch of his hand on my shoulder chased a hot shiver through my body and let me pause abruptly.
“Miss Morgan?”
I turned to him and looked into dark brown eyes. “Yes?”
“I don't have to invite you to my table, that's right, but I would like to. With this in mind, would you perhaps do me the honour of being my guest?”
Wow! He spoke like the gentlemen from those romantic films and books that I loved to devour. Almost mindlessly, I dropped down into one of the cosy armchairs.
Robert Tensington
As I looked around the café, I felt Olivia's presence before she had entered the room. It was like an ache in my chest. My body and, strangely enough, my mind, too, were gripped by a longing anticipation.
The doors slid gently to the side, Olivia Morgan entered the room and as soon as I noticed her fragrance and finally saw her, my heart hammered in a staccato of beats that made me sick. She was so beautiful and even this ridiculous turban that had been modern so many decades ago could not hide it.
And now she was sitting next to me, and yet too far away for my taste. She would probably run away from me screaming if she knew how much I had to control myself in order not to pull her into my arms. I didn't even understand myself; how could I have expected understanding from a young woman?
“What would you like to drink? Are you hungry?” I waved to the waiter, casually. Nobody would ever see behind my façade, not even Fria had been able to do that in all those years, and this woman, in whom I was so interested, would not be able to do it, either. I had learned to hide myself behind an iron curtain of self-control.
“Can I get you anything else,” asked the young man, who obviously knew Liv, because a smile set in on his face as he looked at her. “Hello Liv! One of the usual for you?” I could see clearly that she was uncomfortable being approached in this way by the waiter, but she gave the servant a smile that could have melted ice.
It sparked an irrational feeling of jealousy in me. Now this was really going too far, after all, I didn't know the woman sitting next to me in the least. And to demand possession of a woman was not my style. Once bitten, twice shy.
“That would be great. Thank you, Pierre.” She briskly turned towards me. The smile remained and her eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “Mr Tensington?”
At first I was confused by the question coupled with the sparkle in her eyes, until I remembered what this was all about. This hadn't happened to me in ages. I was always focussed and knew what a conversation was about. This was definitely going too far. Robert Tensington and confused! “No, thank you. I still have coffee.”
To top it all off, the handsome waiter winked at Liv before leaving to get what she had ordered. Were the two having a relationship? Is that why she visited the café so often? Dark had found out from credit card statements that Olivia Morgan regularly came here on free afternoons. After hacking into the university secretary's computer, it had quickly become clear that she was off this afternoon. Judging by her behaviour, she would be in this café. And Dark had been right.
No time to research her private circumstances in that space of time. For this, I would have had to get several private detectives on her back over a long period of time. The two guys who had shadowed her today couldn’t give me any results concerning this matter. It would only have worked if the young woman was attracted to a man. His name was Connor. Dark had tapped all the channels and found out that the guy was registered on relevant portals. It quickly became clear that Connor was into the male gender and so he had disappeared from the list of potential competitors. Which, as I had realised in the meantime, since I had become obsessed with Olivia, reassured me tremendously.
I knew it was irrational and yet I had spontaneously decided to wait for her in this very café. To get to know her better. And fathoming out the secret that surrounded her was a must for me. What I would do with her and the findings was written on a different page.
Although I tried to catch her eye, she ignored me and remained silent. The situation amused me because I could see exactly how unpleasant it was for her. Games like this were extremely amusing. And I was a master of that subject.
“Are you feeling better today?”
She nervously slipped around on the armchair, and finally, those green cat eyes looked at me. I imagined how those eyes would shine when I held Olivia in my arms. Her red hair spread out like a fan on one of the black pillows in my loft. She had to be a true beauty, but she skilfully hid it under thick glasses and hair that she hid tightly under the turban or tied up in a ponytail or bun like last night. Who still wore turbans like that today? It was something from the early years of the twentieth century. But even with that she had an effect on me like no other.
“Yes, thank you. I am well. I stormed into your office so upset yesterday because I wanted to keep you from firing my supervisor, Mrs Sally Michaels.” Her hands were nervously fiddling around with the strap on her bag until a jerk went through her body and she straightened herself up. There was determination in her eyes.
So that's what it was! “Then I can reassure you, you're not the first to want to help dear Sally. I have cancelled her dismissal.” Dark had wanted to talk me round and only later realised that he was preaching to the converted. I had already sent Mrs Michaels a message and withdrawn the termination.
“Oh,” she stared at me with big eyes for a moment too long, but I enjoyed it, like a vain peacock. She was a goddess and I desired her with every fibre of my body. “Thank you.”
“Not at all.”
“Listen, Mr Tensington, it's extremely kind of you to invite me to join you, but really not necessary.”
My eyebrows shot up and I replied with the same determination: “It’s important for me. I thought I’d already made that clear to you.” Why couldn't this woman just accept an invitation?
Confused, she stood up to my gaze, which few could do. Most people instinctively lowered their eyes near me and admitted, by this simple gesture alone, that they were on a different level. Such a strength of will impressed me. Could she also stand up to me in other ways?
“What do you mean by that?”
“Miss Morgan, I found our meeting yesterday extremely interesting. Unfortunately, I had to leave – an important appointment. And as chance would now have it, I meet you again, here of all places. I would like to get to know you better.” The coincidence I owed to Dark. In order not to scare her, I put on a smile, although I would have liked to do something completely different with her.
Olivia Morgan
The smile he gave me did not reach his eyes. He had the charisma of a wild animal on the hunt, which gave me goose pimples. Everything about him seemed dangerous – he had this aura that some people radiated; it deterred me and attracted me at the same time. I consciously went into myself and tried to feel the danger that was emanating from him, but there was nothing. If I could trust my gift this time, then Tensington was harmless.
Harmless? No, he was definitely not that. Using the word harmless in his presence was rather a bad joke. He stirred up a desire inside me and at the same time a feeling of... Yes, of what actually? Everything about him confused me and over-excited my nerves, which began to whirr as soon as he was around. His superiority intimidated me at the same time, and challenged me, as well. I wanted him to accept me as his equal. Another thing that my pride had to answer for. All this contradiction made me take a deep breath, frustrated.
He wanted to get to know me better? I involuntarily asked myself if I even wanted to get to know him better at all. The answer was quite simple. Oh, yes – that’s what I wanted – I concluded, confused. So far I had not thought about it, because I could hardly remember yesterday evening and apart from that I had never seen him before. He was direct, but that was clearly better than beating around the bush.
The smile that now so spontaneously swept across his face hit me like a club in the pit of my stomach. Tensington was a good-looking man, but when he smiled, truly smiled – a smile that came from the heart – then he was a dream. A dream I had dreamed many times before. Stunned, I stared at his eyes, which had changed. But as soon as I had realised that, he was the old manager guy again, above everyone else, with women falling at his feet by the dozen.
“Miss Morgan, are you all right?”
“I beg your pardon?” I woke up, as if from a trance.
“You just looked as if you had seen a ghost.” With those words he put on the other smile again, the one that didn't reach his eyes and didn't make his appearance change so drastically.
“No, no, everything is fine. I'm just a little tired. The black tea will do me good.” Quickly, in order to cover up my uncertainty, I wanted to reach for the teacup. But Pierre hadn't even served it yet. Embarrassing! Tensington watched me and I felt like an insect under a microscope. I'm sure he hadn't missed what was now driving the redness into my face. My heart was pumping blood into my cheeks over and over. I could feel exactly how I was turning red. It was clearly not my day. It would probably be best if I went home to my dump and lay down in bed. Would certainly do me good to recharge my batteries a little. Constantly ploughing through and fighting the tiredness with black tea wasn’t healthy in the long run.
