Next Stop: Love

by Miranda J. Fox

  Luca rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Mike. Better hurry, my father’s waiting for you.”

  Mike nodded and waved good-bye to me before hurrying into the office we had just exited.

  “Well, then, Sophia, welcome to Marcs Entertainment,” Luca said as I got into the elevator. “And here’s to a successful partnership.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, and then he leaned into the elevator and pushed the button for me, although I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. Just before the doors closed, I saw him wink shamelessly. Or maybe I just imagined it. Anyway, my stomach responded with a nervous flutter, and one thing became clear to me: this man was a hunter, and I was heading straight into his trap.

  THE USUAL INSANITY

  “Well, if that doesn’t smell like trouble, I don’t know what does,” Lisa declared when I’d finished telling her the story. Of course she’d wanted to hear all about my interview, but she obviously hadn’t expected any of what happened.

  “You think? Actually, I don’t see a problem with it, because I can’t stand the guy, anyway. If he pressures me at all, at least I can report him,” I replied breezily as I seasoned the salad with olive oil and salt. Except who was I actually trying to convince here? If one little wink from him was enough to give me butterflies, what would happen if he actually touched me?

  “Sure, honey. I don’t want to offend you, but men like that are just drawn to you. They’re the poor little moths and you’re the flame, only you always end up the unfortunate one.”

  I froze in place for a moment, then turned to face her. “You know, I really appreciate your advice, but can you please shut up? You’re not exactly saying anything constructive.”

  She shrugged, unconcerned. “Fine, I won’t say a word. I just wanted to be sensible about it.”

  I turned back to the salad, and Lisa returned to the hot skillet. “Leave that to me,” I said. “Trust me, I’ve learned from my mistakes; I’m not about to make the same ones again.”

  We set the table, dished out our chicken and salad, and sat down to eat a late lunch. Lisa really did have a nice apartment. Three rooms, 925 square feet, mostly white IKEA furniture, and a Chartreux named Khasi. Khasi’s gray fur was cuddly soft and had a bluish shimmer in the sunlight. He was a stately cat and hardly ever passed up the chance to put himself center stage. Now, for example, he was enthroned atop his cat tree, gazing down at us imperiously, making sure nothing escaped his attention. He reminded me a lot of Lucifer, the tomcat in Cinderella, except Khasi was cuddlier and liked me pretty well.

  I’d always wanted a pet, a dog particularly. But my mom couldn’t stand animals—just like she couldn’t stand cackling women, crowded supermarkets, men with glasses, amusement parks, girls wearing tight clothing, and many, many other things. Actually, she couldn’t stand anything or anyone, except maybe herself. Seriously, if I’d gone through life with her worldview, I’d have thrown myself off a bridge a long time ago.

  After lunch, we loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, and then I started unpacking and settling into my new room. I’d shipped the entire contents of my closet, and I’d done the same with my papers, books, and other smaller items, until finally I’d left behind an empty room for my mother to discover. She hadn’t noticed any of the progress toward my secret relocation because she hardly ever went into my room, anyway. Sad, wasn’t it? No mother who had a healthy relationship with her daughter would fail to notice that she was moving out. But we hadn’t had a healthy relationship in a long time.

  Once I’d made all the necessary preparations, I’d planned my escape for an evening I knew she would be spending with friends. Although “friends” was really stretching it—as soon as the three of them parted company, they started bad-mouthing one another. Why did they keep getting together, anyway? Probably nobody else could stand being around them, so they’d developed a kind of forced friendship.

  It was cowardly of me to disappear into the night with no warning, but my mother was so well known that she had connections everywhere, including the local police. She was a demon who ruled our village behind the scenes, and if I’d given her advance notice, she would have somehow stopped me or sabotaged my plans. So I’d had no other choice. All I’d left her was a note, but I knew that she wouldn’t waste any tears on me—if anything, she’d throw a tantrum. She hadn’t tried to call me yet, either, although she must have discovered my absence. After all, this was supposed to have been my first day at the law firm, and she generally dragged me to such appointments herself. But that was how she was: stubborn and dictatorial.

  She probably thought that I was just going through a rebellious phase and would come back eventually. So it would be another few weeks before she realized the gravity of the situation and contacted me. In my note, I hadn’t told her where I’d gone, but she’d find out sooner or later through her network. Oh, how I would love to hear her attempts to explain my disappearance to the neighbors. She’d never forgive me for this, but that didn’t matter. I had a few things I’d never forgive her for, either.

  Even though Lisa still wanted to celebrate, I was just too tired, so we ordered Chinese for dinner, and then I went to bed. I had no idea what awaited me the following day, so I wanted to be relaxed, and for that I needed plenty of sleep. Well, actually, I did know—I mean, I’d obviously read up on secretaries and their areas of responsibility. My number-one job was to be there for my boss and act as his right hand. I was responsible for receiving his clients, making calls in his name, screening unimportant calls, planning business trips and meetings, taking care of his written correspondence, and handling his e-mail. It was an interesting and varied job—just not necessarily one I should be doing for Luca. But I needed the money, and if anything struck me as less than kosher, I could always quit.

  I was an hour early the next day, just as Luca had told me to be. At the reception desk, I received a key card, giving me access to every department, along with a list of passwords for my computer. Then I went up to the fourth floor, where Aileen, who had come in early to help me settle in, showed me my desk.

  “I don’t know how you managed to get the job as his executive assistant,” she murmured an hour later. “A few of us have been lusting after this job for years now.” She sounded neither begrudging nor envious, though. It was just a statement of fact.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  She glanced around the room, although we were practically alone. Two men were just coming out of the elevator, and a housekeeper was vacuuming Luca’s office; otherwise, the floor was deserted, and the other secretaries’ desks were all still empty. “Because it’ll rankle a couple of them, so don’t be surprised if they act bitchy toward you,” she explained.

  “Oh, great.” I sighed. “So my first day of work hasn’t even really started, and I’ve already made enemies.”

  She smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, as long as I’ve got you under my wing, they’ll leave you alone. I’ve got seniority here, so they respect me.” Seniority? I regarded Aileen more closely. She couldn’t have been older than forty. Fiery-red hair, dark eye makeup, cherry-red lipstick, and a tattoo snaking along her neck. Not necessarily a look I’d have expected in an office environment. Seeing the way my eyes lingered on her tattoo, she said, “Over the years you come to earn a degree of respect around here, along with a certain amount of freedom. But I won’t ever make it to executive assistant, not with the way I look.” She gestured to the tattoo. There was still no hint of resentment in her voice—it sounded more like she’d come to terms with the situation long ago and was satisfied with her position.

  “Luca’s got something against tattoos?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Luca doesn’t, but his father does, and as long as his father’s still running the show, Luca has to play by his old-fashioned rules. And a tattooed woman accompanying them to important meetings is definitely against the rules.”


  “You mean Luca himself is a lot more relaxed about it?” I inquired. I was definitely interested in learning more about him as a person. Possibly even a bit too interested. On the other hand, I was his assistant now, so that was part of the job, right?

  “Oh, totally relaxed. When the old man goes on business trips, we don’t have to wear skirts, and sometimes Luca even lets us come in jeans. Plus, he buys pizza for the whole department once a month.” Now her voice had taken on a fawning note. “Man, if I were fifteen years younger, I would have jumped that guy a long time ago.” She gave me an exaggerated wink, which I immediately loved her for.

  “So his employees like him,” I concluded. Hardly imaginable somehow, considering what a dick he’d been on the train.

  “Like him? Girl, we love him! Luca is the funniest, nicest boss you can possibly imagine, and you’ve seen how hot he is. We’re all going to kiss the sky when Daddy finally retires. But he won’t give up the reins that easily, as stubborn as he is . . . And now you’d better start working on Luca’s in-box. He really doesn’t like to come in and find it already bursting with unimportant messages.” She sat down next to me.

  Somehow I found the idea of poking around in his in-box absurd. I mean, I knew that being his assistant would mean a certain degree of involvement with his personal life, and I would probably end up learning things I didn’t want to know at all . . . but reading his e-mail?

  Aileen remained at my side the entire time, showing me which messages were important, which I could delete immediately, and which I could save for later. I took a ton of notes as we worked, and when my phone rang, she answered it and showed me where and how to take messages.

  One by one, the other secretaries arrived and welcomed me to their little group. They couldn’t have been more different. Bianca, the short brunette, had a sleepy look to her and sipped her coffee listlessly. Anne and Samantha, who seemed slightly hyper, giggled quietly to themselves.

  And then there was Mary, the tall blonde who sized me up coolly, which suggested she might be one of the resentful ones. “Where did you work before?” she inquired, turning toward me as she let herself sink magisterially into her chair.

  “Nowhere. I’m fresh out of school,” I told her, whereupon the other women immediately gave me their full attention.

  “Business communications and administration?” Mary probably assumed I was talking about secretary school.

  “More like a law degree,” I replied, causing her to raise one perfectly plucked eyebrow. There was a hint of acknowledgment in her expression, but mostly it was one of disapproval.

  Aileen, on the other hand, seemed impressed. “Hear, hear! Our first grad student. Now I know why he picked you.”

  Mary threw her a harsh look and began chewing on a ballpoint pen in an unladylike way. She had her blouse unbuttoned low enough to put her plump, pushed-up bosom on display, and whether it was real or not, it was definitely an eye-catcher. She wore sheer black stockings and high heels, and she’d probably spent hours in front of the mirror doing her elaborate makeup.

  I, meanwhile, was walking around in a less spectacular getup. Obviously, I wore a blouse and a skirt as well, but my pumps had a comfortable heel on them, and all I had on my face was a little mascara and a glob of concealer to cover up a zit. I liked my natural look. I didn’t want to be arrogant, but I bet that I looked fresher without makeup than Mary did.

  “So how does one go from law student to secretary?” She made no effort to sound friendly, but I was familiar with people like her and knew how to deal with them. There was always someone who thought they were better than everyone, whether it was in appearance or intelligence. At school, people were arrogant about how smart they were, and here, with Mary, it was about her looks. And I had to admit that she really did look smoking hot—she was probably the sexiest woman in the whole building. But what good had that done her? She still wasn’t Luca’s assistant. Okay, maybe that was mean of me, but a little schadenfreude was fine now and then, and this chick had it coming.

  “I don’t know; it just appealed to me.” I shrugged. It was the absolute truth. After I’d decided to leave my mother’s house, I’d applied to pretty much every job out there, as long as they were in Berlin. And Marcs Entertainment had simply been the first company to write me back. Admittedly, at first I hadn’t cared one way or another who took me, but once I’d seen the location and the fantastic salary, I’d really wanted to work here.

  “And then you decided to apply here?” she pressed on. “Just like that?”

  I clicked my tongue in annoyance. Her interrogation was starting to wear on my nerves, especially because she wasn’t even trying to hide her disdain. “And my efforts were obviously fruitful,” I replied. With that, I rotated pointedly around to face my screen, thus turning my back on her.

  Aileen poked me in the side and winked appreciatively—apparently she couldn’t stand Mary, either.

  At nine sharp, the office was suddenly packed and busy; telephones rang, people hurried around, secretaries whispered to each other, and someone got into or out of an elevator every minute. Aileen explained which offices were on the fourth floor and which of my fellow secretaries worked for whom. Bianca worked for the head of finance; Anne, for the press secretary; Samantha, for the head of the fashion department; Mary, for the head of HR; and Aileen, for Mike, the nice guy from the elevator, who was our IT manager and a good friend of Luca’s.

  Luca stepped into the office at half past nine, and before I’d even noticed him, the atmosphere in the room changed. The other secretaries quickly fixed their hair and sat up straighter in their chairs, and everyone’s eyes seemed glued to the heir apparent as though they were hypnotized. I admit, with his dark-gray suit and deliberate stubble, he really was hot, but there was also such a thing as overdoing it. At any rate, I merely said hello politely. I had to give it to him, though: he greeted not only me but also all the other secretaries, and in an extremely charming way. A murmur seemed to ripple through the room after he passed; when he shut his office door behind him, the spell was broken, and everyone went back to work.

  “Give him a minute to get settled in, and then go see him,” Aileen advised me, so exactly one minute later, I knocked on his door, armed with a notepad.

  “Come in,” he said, and when I entered the room, the cold air wafting in from the open window circled around my ankles. He’d taken off his jacket, exposing a dark silk shirt that wonderfully spanned the contours of his body. Why did he have to be so tall and muscular? I was hardly going to be able to focus on business.

  “Good morning, Mr. Marcs. Your appointments—” I began, but he interrupted me immediately.

  “Mr. Marcs? I’m not my dad, Sophia; you can go ahead and call me Luca.” He sat down at his desk, looking amused.

  “I’m not used to calling superiors by their first names, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it at Mr. Marcs,” I pleaded.

  The twinkle in his eye faded slightly as he regarded me. “If you’re worried that it could somehow compromise our professional relationship, then let me assure you again that everyone here goes by first names. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “That may be, but . . . I’d still rather call you Mr. Marcs,” I said. I definitely did not want any kind of friendly rapport to develop between us. He was my boss, and I was his employee, and either he respected that, or this wasn’t going to work.

  He must have read as much on my face, because eventually he gave in with a sigh. “Fair enough . . . for the time being. And now, please, sit down.” He gestured at a free seat.

  I did as requested and got straight down to business. “Harry Cooper called and wants to arrange a new appointment with you—they’re still interested. Mr. Wiens and Mr. Andenburg agreed to meet you for dinner. After eight would be best for them.” As I went through my notes, I felt his eyes on me, which made me nervous. Sure, this was how every mor
ning would start from now on, but his intimidating presence would still take some getting used to. “Luis wants to talk to you about the air-conditioning in the building, particularly in the elevators, and . . . I believe you haven’t been to the gym in a while. In over a year, to be precise. I know it’s none of my business, but maybe you should consider canceling your membership? I can take care of that for you,” I offered awkwardly. This was exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want to know about.

  “Really? Huh. I thought I had done that a long time ago. At some point I got sick of the gym and started jogging,” he murmured as though to himself, without a hint of self-consciousness. Didn’t he find it embarrassing to talk about this with his assistant? Then he looked at me, and he realized that I was blushing wildly. “You find it unpleasant to discuss my personal affairs with me?” he asked, and that mischievous look returned to his eyes. He obviously enjoyed seeing me uncomfortable.

  “Well, I’m fresh from law school, where data protection and privacy play important roles. So, yes, I find it unpleasant,” I admitted. Lying wouldn’t have done any good, anyway, because he could see how I felt.

  He folded his hands behind his head. “It doesn’t bother me at all, you know? I’m used to people being able to see my cards. Been that way since I was little.”

  Tell me about it. I’d never been able to keep anything secret from my mother, either. She’d gone through my e-mails, listened in on my calls, and pumped my friends for information about me. That crazy woman. I was so glad to finally be rid of her. “But that’s . . . sad, isn’t it?” I asked. “Never having your own space, always having to explain yourself, always being under observation.” I couldn’t suppress the note of pain in my voice.

  He straightened up a little, as though he’d heard it, too, and regarded me thoughtfully. “Sounds like you have some experience with that as well.” His gaze rested heavily on me; I felt like his X-ray eyes were boring directly into my soul.