by Jae
Susanne didn’t stir. A slight frown pulled at her brows but then smoothed out.
Anja handed her ticket to the conductor. Susanne’s phone lay on the tray table, but she didn’t know the code that would unlock it, so she couldn’t show him Susanne’s ticket.
With a sigh of regret, she reached out to softly shake her awake.
“Don’t,” the conductor whispered. “It’s okay. She’s obviously with you.” Grinning, he nodded at the way Susanne trustingly rested her head on Anja’s shoulder, using her as a pillow.
With me, Anja mentally repeated. “Yes, she is. Thank you.”
He handed her ticket back and went down the aisle to the next passenger.
She watched him until he disappeared into the adjoining compartment. Had he assumed they were a couple? Doesn’t matter. You’re not.
Susanne made a kitten-like noise that had Anja press her hand to her mouth to hold back a giggle. Her long eyelashes fluttered, then lifted. She looked around, clearly dazed and needing a minute to remember where she was. “Oh. Uh, sorry.” She sat up and wiped her mouth as if to check whether she’d been drooling. Even the low light in their compartment couldn’t hide her blush.
“It’s okay.” Anja decided not to tease her, but she couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from curling up into an amused grin.
“Where are we?” Susanne asked.
“About halfway to Freiburg. Go back to sleep.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” Her voice was husky, belying her words. “Just resting my eyes for a moment.”
“Mm-hmm. Same way I wasn’t squealing over that notebook earlier.”
Susanne glared at her in a way that would have made the blood freeze in Anja’s veins two weeks ago. But now it just made her grin more broadly.
A yawn interrupted Susanne’s glaring. She stretched, and her slightly wrinkled blouse pulled taut over her breasts.
Anja tore her gaze away. Maybe she should rest her eyes for a while too. It would definitely be safer.
Neither had the energy to trudge up the stairs to the streetcar, so they stepped onto the escalator as if by unspoken agreement. The wind tugged on Susanne’s blouse, making her shiver, and she quickly buttoned her coat.
God, she was tired. She had forced herself to keep her eyes open the rest of the way to Freiburg because she’d been afraid that she’d use Anja as a pillow again. Somehow that felt even more intimate than being pressed against each other from head to toe this morning. That thought warmed her shivering body.
When they reached the streetcar stops, they had to go their separate ways because Anja had to take the streetcar on this side of the street, while Susanne had to wait for the one leaving from across the street.
They stood next to the tracks and turned toward each other.
Anja bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet. She had slid one hand under a strap of her backpack while holding on to a heavy bag with the other.
“Want me to take that?” Susanne pointed. “I could bring it to work on Monday along with the bag I have and then drive you home so you don’t have to take it on the bicycle.”
“No, that’s okay. Thanks.”
Susanne smiled. “Don’t want to be separated from all those free notebooks over the weekend, hmm?”
“Well, as you said this morning, how can I recommend products to our customers if I don’t inspect them carefully?”
“Right.”
In the distance, a streetcar approached from the direction of the city center. A red sign at the top of the windshield indicated which line it was, but Susanne couldn’t yet tell them apart, and it was still too far away for her to be able to read the number.
“That’s mine,” Anja said.
“Oh, then, um, good night and have a nice rest of the weekend.”
“You too.”
They stood without moving and looked at each other.
As exhausted as she was and as glad as she would be to get home and put up her feet, Susanne realized she didn’t want to say goodbye. What the hell? She’d never had a problem spending her evenings alone.
The streetcar whooshed past them, slid to a stop several meters away, and opened its doors, but Anja made no move to get in. “You know what? I’m pretty hungry, and I’m not up for cooking. Want to go grab that dinner you owe me?”
“I owe you dinner?”
“Yes. Remember this morning? You said I had a chance of you buying me dinner after our little, um, snuggle session on the train.”
Susanne chuckled. Snuggle session, hmm? So was Anja still thinking about it too? “Right. I did say that, and I’m a woman of my word, so let’s go. Any good restaurants around here?”
“Oh yes. Plenty of them. What are you in the mood for?”
Susanne honestly didn’t care. She wasn’t picky about food, and if the Indian dishes they had shared last week were any indication, they had similar tastes. “You’re the local. Why don’t you surprise me?”
“All right. Come on.” Anja took her arm, pulled her away from the windy bridge where the streetcars stopped, and led her down the street.
“Careful.” Anja reached for Susanne’s elbow as they stepped across a Bächle. She hesitated in front of the restaurant’s heavy-studded oak door, not sure if Susanne would enjoy this type of place. It might be a bit too rustic for her, with tasty but simple regional dishes.
But Susanne was already reading the menu that was posted on small blackboards attached to the shutters. “Ooh, that sounds good.”
“Are you sure? It’s pretty simple. No frills. Don’t expect fine dining.”
Susanne shook her head at her. “You’ve really got the wrong impression about me. I’m not the glitter type either. No frills is fine.”
Before Anja could think of a reply, Susanne opened the door and held it for her.
“Thanks.”
Lively conversations drifted over as they entered the large dining room. The dark hardwood floor and the wood ceiling gave the restaurant a cozy feel. It was pretty busy, and they were lucky to find a free table for two in the corner.
The vegetarian options were limited, but Anja already knew what she wanted, so she watched Susanne study the menu. She didn’t look out of place here at all. She had taken off her blazer and had opened the top button on her blouse. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders and was still a little mussed from her nap on the train. Anja found that she liked this more down-to-earth look.
“Do you mind if I order meat?” Susanne had to lean across the table to make herself heard above the noise.
The question caught Anja off guard. She hadn’t expected Susanne to be so considerate. “No, not at all. I don’t like people trying to talk me into eating meat, so I try not to be a missionary and convert people to vegetarianism either.”
“I don’t eat a lot of meat, but Franzi—my sister—says I have to try the Rindfleisch.” Susanne tapped the item on the menu.
Anja took a closer look. It was the beef with horseradish sauce, boiled potatoes, and cranberries. “Good choice. It was my grandmother’s favorite.”
“What did she think about having a vegetarian granddaughter?”
Anja chuckled. “She was always worried about me starving to death. For her, a meal without meat wasn’t a real meal.”
“My mother was the same when Franzi went through her short-lived vegan phase.”
The waitress stepped up to their table, and Anja ordered the cheese spaetzle and a small salad.
“Do you want it with the caramelized onions or without?” the waitress asked.
Anja hesitated for only a second. “With onions, please.” This wasn’t a date, after all, so she didn’t need to keep her breath fresh for the good-night kiss. An image flashed through her mind’s eye—Susanne and she standing at the streetcar stop where they had to go their separate ways, leaning closer and closer until… She roughly shook her head to chase away the image.
It didn’t take long for their food to be served, and they both dug in
with gusto.
The spaetzle was sprinkled with butter-fried bread crumbs and tasted delicious.
The loud group at the large table next to theirs got up and left, and the noise level in the restaurant instantly dropped so they could talk without raising their voices.
“This is good.” Susanne sounded almost surprised. She swiped a piece of beef through the horseradish sauce on her plate.
“What, you thought our little backwoods region couldn’t produce anything worth eating?” Anja tried for a teasing tone, but, truth be told, it rankled her a little that Susanne didn’t seem to like Freiburg.
Susanne put down her knife and fork. “I didn’t say that—or think it,” she added before Anja could say anything. “In fact, no matter where I have traveled, I have often found that the best food is served away from the big cities in little, rustic restaurants like this.”
“So you travel a lot?”
Susanne picked up her cutlery. “Yeah, I do. I did. I worked for a big international consulting firm.”
“Worked,” Anja repeated. “Right. You said you’re in between jobs.”
Susanne nodded.
“Can I ask what…?”
“What happened at my old job?” Susanne hesitated, and for a moment, Anja thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she said, “I finally had enough, so I quit.”
Anja paused with her fork hovering in mid-air. “Enough of what? The bitchy colleagues you mentioned earlier today?”
“Them too. The whole company climate was pretty toxic…at least for women. My boss always picked the shittiest, most difficult jobs for me just because he wanted to see me fail, while his boys got the easy jobs and all the praise.” Susanne’s voice was tight with frustration.
And now Susanne was here in Freiburg, trying to save Paper Love. Did she consider it a shitty job too?
“I thought I could prove myself and make him respect me, but I finally realized that my career wouldn’t go anywhere as long as I stayed,” Susanne continued. “So I quit.”
“Good for you.” They clinked their wineglasses on that final statement, then Anja asked, “What’s next for you?”
“A company where people are judged by their skills, not by their gender, hopefully. It shouldn’t be too hard to find one, especially since I’m not tied to a specific location. Maybe I’ll even work out of the country for a while.”
Wow. They couldn’t be more different if they tried. Susanne would move to a foreign country in a heartbeat, while Anja couldn’t imagine living anywhere but Freiburg.
Susanne chewed and swallowed a bite of potato. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. At the risk of sounding as if I were conducting a job interview, where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Behind the counter of Paper Love,” Anja said firmly.
Susanne regarded her with a serious expression. “But what if that’s not possible? What would you do if—?”
“Are you trying to find out if I have a plan B?” Anja shoved back her half-eaten salad. “I don’t have one. I don’t want one.”
“Maybe you should. Even if we can turn things around for now, my uncle won’t run the store forever, and who knows what will happen once he retires.”
“I know what Nobby wants to happen.” Anja raked her fork through her spaetzle and peered up at Susanne from under half-lowered lids, watching her reaction. “He wants, um…” She hesitated, not sure how Susanne would take it, then forged ahead. “He wants me to take over as the new owner.”
To her surprise, Susanne nodded her approval. “I’d be all for that. Selling you the store might be a good solution.”
“No. That’s not what I…what he…” Anja took a deep breath. “I don’t have the money to buy the store from him. He wants to give me Paper Love.”
Susanne took her time cutting a slice of beef in half. Finally, she raised her gaze to Anja and studied her thoroughly.
Anja squirmed under the intense scrutiny of those gray eyes. God, she suddenly felt like a crook trying to cheat Susanne out of her inheritance. She forced herself not to duck her head in shame.
Finally, Susanne shrugged. “If that’s what Uncle Norbert wants.”
“You…you would be okay with it? With Paper Love going to someone who isn’t family?”
Susanne took a large sip of wine. “My sister has her own practice, and I have no intention of staying around past Easter.”
“What about…well, your father? The store belonged to his father after all.”
Susanne barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh God, no. I’d rather you have Paper Love than my father. At least with you, the store might have a fighting chance.”
Anja didn’t know what to say. They ate in silence for a while. Once the last bites of her spaetzle and Susanne’s beef were gone and they had asked for the bill, Anja said, “If it ever comes to that…to Nobby giving me the store, I’ll try to set aside some money every month to pay your family back in some way.”
“Let’s worry about that once we’ve managed to save the store, okay?”
“Okay.”
They nodded at each other, and the mood lightened.
The waitress brought the bill. “Are you paying together or separately?”
“Separately,” Anja said, while Susanne answered, “Together.”
Anja looked at her.
“This is on me. I said I’d invite you for, um, the train situation,” Susanne said with a glance at the waitress.
“I was just kidding about you having to buy me dinner for that.”
Susanne handed the waitress a fifty-euro bill. “I wasn’t.”
Anja finally decided to accept the invitation. “Thank you, then.”
“You’re welcome.”
Once Susanne had received some change from the waitress, they headed out.
The temperature had dropped, and Anja buttoned her coat while they walked toward the streetcar stop.
A group of students, apparently a little buzzed, passed them, forcing them to move closer, and neither of them increased the distance between them once the young people had passed. In the cool night air, the warmth of Susanne’s arm against her own felt good.
Anja’s streetcar stop was the first they came to, and Susanne lingered next to her instead of continuing on to her own. “The stop you need is over there.” Anja gestured.
“I know. I’ll wait here with you, then catch mine.”
Anja had to smile at Susanne’s good manners. For a second, she could imagine what it would be like to go on a date with her. Susanne would probably insist on walking her to her door.
The streetcar sliding to a stop next to them interrupted her thoughts.
Passengers veered around them to get in, but Anja and Susanne stood without moving, facing each other.
“Thanks for going with me,” Anja finally said. “To Paperworld and to the restaurant.”
“My pleasure. I think it was really, um, productive.” Susanne shuffled her feet. “Kind of fun too. I learned a lot, so now we should be ready to—”
“Are you getting in?” the streetcar driver asked.
“Yes. Sorry.” Anja climbed into the streetcar and then turned back toward Susanne. “See you on Monday,” she called through the closing doors.
As the streetcar accelerated down the street, Anja dropped into an empty seat and looked through the window at the lone figure on the sidewalk until she could no longer see her.
Chapter 10
On Monday afternoon, Anja was scribbling furiously, filling page after page in her notebook. Every now and then, she paused to brush a strand of hair out of her face with the end of her pen, and somehow she had managed to get a smudge of black ink right where the dimple on her chin was.
It repeatedly drew Susanne’s gaze, and each time she had to force her attention back to what they were doing. The temperature in her uncle’s office didn’t help her focus either.
The room was tiny, and with two people sitting close
together so they could peer at the screen of her laptop, it was starting to feel a bit like a sauna. Or maybe it was just her.
Anja didn’t seem to be affected. She was focused entirely on the different social media channels Susanne showed her. A wrinkle of concentration had formed on her brow, deepening with every site they visited. Finally, she leaned back and rubbed her eyes. “This is kind of a lot.”
In the past, Susanne had always ruthlessly enforced whatever was necessary for a business to prosper, with no regard to how the employees might feel about it. But now, after spending the previous Saturday at Paperworld and having dinner with Anja, she couldn’t quite muster a cool, businesslike response. “I know. But it’s the only way.”
“It’s really not that I’m too lazy to learn all of this new stuff. I just can’t help thinking what if it’s all wrong for us? It feels as if we’re killing what we’re trying to save.”
“Killing? Definitely not. Studies show that companies that employ online—”
“Forget the studies.” Anja dropped her fountain pen on the desk without her usual gentleness when handling her beloved writing instruments. “Our store is more than just numbers.”
Oh man. Not that argument, please. Susanne couldn’t help groaning. If she never again had to hear that same old the-spirit-of-the-company-is-more-important-than-making-money discussion, she’d die a happy woman. “Maybe, but without the numbers, there is no store. I thought we agreed on that.”
“We did. But what if by making the numbers, we suffocate what Paper Love is all about—the love for stationery?” Anja gestured at the laptop. “We’ve been in here all day. I haven’t seen a customer—a real-life customer, not just anonymous people on some stationery forum—or touched a notebook besides my own for even a second. What I love about this job is working with stationery, not just posting pictures about it.”
The sadness in Anja’s tone tugged on her heartstrings, but Susanne suppressed the feeling. Personal sensitivities had no place in business, and just because she kind of liked Anja didn’t change that fact. “Listen, I don’t mean to come across like a bitch, but—”
