The light fading out E-Book

Betina Alexandra Lavender

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 275

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Company boss Chris is on edge. His marriage is a disaster, his advertising agency's income is meagre and his soft-spoken team isn't playing ball as it should with the big contract that's on the horizon. His last hope is an old college friend who has already tried to help him turn his company around. But that means bad blood ...

Leseprobe

The light fading out

"Any idiot can master a crisis.

It's everyday life that wears us down."

Anton Chekhov

For Steve and Mathias,

in love

1CHRIS

He woke up suddenly, but still as if under water.

He had had a bad dream, but he didn't remember.

Slowly the thoughts came, everything that had bothered him so much. The monthly barbecue at his father-in-law's. The traditional jokes about his failure.

"Oh, there's the son-in-law. Our entrepreneur! How's the money I invested in your business? Is it still afloat? Is the business still there? Haha. We will soon see how that turns out. Haha."

Jovial pats on the back, laughter,the food arrives, tuck in.

He had taken some tablets topped up with alcohol, he couldn't stand it any longer. His thoughts were foggy - was there a word for being in a fog, foggy? - No, probably not.

He was lying on his bed, in his house. He had a company with 25 employees and was about to buy a second one.I'm successful, I'm doing well.But he felt that he was breaking. His life was breaking.

Oh, Chris. Melodramatic as always, huh?

He tried to pull himself together. But he had become permeable, fragile. He questioned, analyzed, the joy was gone, the verve, the enthusiasm.I am a Thomas Buddenbrook, it flashed through his mind.

He had always been prone to brooding, to melancholy, but only now was he less and less able to ward off sadness, he often had tears in his eyes, he was becoming more and more ...damn it, melodramatic!

Get up. Go to the kitchen. Say good morning to Mimi. Get bread rolls for Sunday breakfast. Clean the house. The brother-in-law and sister-in-law are coming for coffee. Mimi's colleagues will be there in the evening and he will make pizza. Go to bed. The new week begins.

He didn't know why he and Mimi had been sleeping separately for years. Was that how it was in marriages?

He didn't know why it was his job to clean the house every Sunday, because Mimi only had a half-time job at the insurance company. He also didn't know why everything was so organized, why there was never any time, why he never had time for himself. But he forbade himself to think about it.

Just get on with it, get the day over with.

But the longing for love could neither be driven away nor did it disappear. He woke up in the middle of the night and this time he immediately remembered his dream. It had happened many years ago and he was no longer sure which part he had experienced and which part he had dreamed.

"Haha, boy. I gave my daughter this advice: Get pregnant, Johnny from the village will marry you anyway - his parents don't want a scandal - and then you'll get a job at the insurance company and have your peace of mind. You won't have to spread your legs, Johnny will take care of you and you'll have your own money. Yeah, that's perfect, isn't it? That was the plan and that´s how it turned out.”

It was 2:00 a.m. He couldn't afford to think about that rubbish for another second. He had to sleep. Three pills later he slept. Restless but at least sleep.

Monday morning, 6:30 am. He got up. Mimi was already on her way to work(no one is there in the morning and then no one can annoy me).

He made himself an espresso and checked his diary. Oh no. It was Monday. The weeklyfly-through-the-week meetingwas already scheduled for 11:00. His stupidest idea ever. 25 people who had to SHARE their boring, stupid weekly plans with everyone every Monday, endless chatter, discussions about nothing, all wasted time.

Well, too late. It had been his idea and he had to go through with it now.

But at least there was some light at the end of the tunnel, a great thing. The marketing pitch was coming up next week, the potential client is a global company in the cosmetics industry with its German headquarters in Düsseldorf.If that works, dude, then I'm free.

Now he had his kick and could start the day.

He drove the short 5 km to his company in a good mood, looking forward to the day, enjoying the prospect of soon landing an absolutely awesome contract, thinking about his new company ... He was more relaxed and happier than he had been all weekend.

The company was housed in a former barracks yard. It was a renovated, beautiful old building with an impressive entrance lobby, ten meters high, industrial charm with iron girders and sandstone. Many small start-ups had set up shop here, and the fact that it was within walking distance of the university made it an absolute hotspot with atmosphere and potential.

He took the elevator to the top floor and entered the office: the first point of contact for everyone was Gisela, the assistant. She was located in the company's small reception area.

He was immediately overcome by a wave of revulsion. He saw her sitting there. Without make-up, her hair still wet from the shower (at least she was showering), the unironed blouse hanging from her, unable to conceal the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra and revealing her sagging upper arms in a very unflattering way.Don`t the English call them bingo wings?

Why,he thought,why? Why couldn't she dress appropriately? Why didn't she take care of herself? Ah, it was so tedious ...

"Morning Chris, had a good weekend? You look kind of tired. Well, I went to a belly dance festival, performed there and guess what..."NO. I'M NOT IMAGINING THAT.

"Good morning, Gisela. Have you already prepared everything for our appointment at 8 a.m.? Then why don't you come by right away, my day is full today."

After a typically frustrating session with Gisela, he was already exhausted. What had she done in the past five years? What had she learned? He had wanted to let her go years ago, but Lona - his management partner, as she called herself - had vetoed it. Gisela hadn't understood what he wanted from her at all, so now he had to do the job himself.

Who was next? Oh yes, Theo. That was Lona's husband. He was a tax consultant, one of the good ones, and supported him in financial matters. And there he was. Hmm. He looked bad. Well, he always looked bad because he was very unattractive, but today he looked even worse as he had a bruised face, he was limping and looked extremely fragile.

"Hi Theo, what on earth happened to you?" "Hi Chris, had a little sports accident at the weekend, you know. Nothing serious, I'm fine. Shall we get started?"

He felt much better after this meeting - as he always did when he knew he could rely on his counterpart to be professional and reliable.

Now quickly to the toilet, get a coffee and then Lona.

He returned to his office, and she was already sitting there. He looked at her blonde perm, her acne-covered face plastered with make-up and sighed inwardly.Something had to be done before the presentation

"Good morning, Lona, how are you, how was your weekend?"

"Hmm, fine, we tried our best for number 2," she winked at him.Oh yes, so they wanted a second baby and had been fucking all weekend. Just the idea ... no way and anyway ... disgusting.

And why did she tell him that?

"But Theo overdid it again with the booze and fell down the stairs ..."

Theo? But Theo doesn't drink.That was strange, but he didn't want to comment on it because he felt that he had neither the strength nor the energy to devote to other people's problems.

"Let's talk about the presentation next week, it`s really important for us. If we land the pitch, we're in the big league. It has to work. Have you prepared your part?"

"Yes, I'll show you."

After five minutes, he had already switched off. It was so banal. Simply nothing. Stale and uninspired.

Chris thought - or rather screamed inwardly:

I run a marketing company and I'm good. I can inspire people - because I'm enthusiastic. I love advertising, I love telling stories, I love working with people. Every year I sit in front of the screen like a bloodhound and look forward to the mega British Christmas videos. I watch advertising from all over the world, I'm like a sponge, soaking it all up and trying to process it. I want to be awesome, crazy, brilliant and ... I want to be the best.

I want to win, damn it, I want to tell stories. I want people to forget the moment and start dreaming.

At some point, he woke up from his trance because Lona was looking at him and seemed to be waiting for something.

"What do you think, Chris?" she asked in her little-girl voice, seeming to tremble.

Dull, stale, banal ...

"Yes, it's a first step, Lona. You can still improve, but you're going in the right direction. I like that! However, we must hurry up a bit now, because the deadline is Friday. And we have to give the perfect presentation, so we have to practice. What's your plan?"

"Uh, yes, Chris. Well, I can't do the ... I can't do it. It stresses me out way too much, I can't do it. You have to give the presentation."

"But Lona, it's only 40% of the whole thing that I am asking for, I'll do the rest anyway. You can manage that, I'm sure of it!"

"No Chris, I really can't do it, I'm so scared, I can't do it ..."

Oh no, now she's starting to cry again, and I finally realize that I have to write and present the whole thing.

For a moment he was so angry, she disgusted him with her curls, her ignorance, hermediocrity.

"Don't worry, Lona, we'll manage. I'll support you; together we can do it. But now let’s get to our meeting, the team is already waiting. Maybe you can freshen up a bit, I'll go ahead."

On the few meters to the meeting room, he tried to calm down and get back on an even keel. It was exhausting. He opened the door.

The room was a hive of activity, everyone was joking and laughing, the atmosphere was friendly, peaceful and relaxed, the company dog Biscuit was sitting at the feet of vain Julian and licking his hands devotedly, everyone had the obligatory cappuccino on the table in front of them. A perfect working morning in the New Work environment.

"Hello and good morning to you all, I'm glad you're here, Biscuit included. Today we are going to spontaneously reorganize our fly-through-the-week meeting because we still have some work to do for our big challenge next week. As you know, we have the customer representatives in house next Monday and we must deliver a really great show. An unbeatable concept, inspiring storytelling, a vision, a star, a diamond - a masterpiece.

A few weeks ago, I asked you all to think about this topic and I would like to use today's meeting to hear your ideas and suggestions and put together a great concept. Let's get started. Who wants to kick off?"

In the corner of his eye, Chris saw Lona sneak into the room, looking terrible and completely passive.

Chris looked around, no one seemed in the least inspired or even wanted to speak:

Vain Julian smoothed his short blond hair and stroked the dog, Karl-Egon, always a doubter, looked at the floor in front of him avoiding eye contact, the people from IT were pathetic anyway, scruffy Kai bit his nails nervously, Gisela scratched her head extensively, someone burped.

"I'm really looking forward to your ideas, so take a deep breath and let’s get started, here we go. Right here and now. This is a huge opportunity for us, let's kick it all off!"

"Yes, well, Chris. It's not that simple. We have no experience with such big projects. We don't have the background. Not enough people, not enough time. My team is already completely overloaded, and the workload is still increasing. I don't know how we're going to cope!" That was one of the team leaders.

The doubter agreed: "I've just started a family and I was promised a work-life balance!" "I see it the same way, I ..."

"Well, and we don't all want to wear lipstick at work. Right guys?" Vain Julian wasn't above a bad joke.

"I think it's far too much effort and ..."

Chris sank.

I once had the idea of a perfect company that is fair, committed, enthusiastic and inspiring. I thought about values, mindset, culture and freedom of thought and action. I was absolutely convinced that it must be possible to develop people, to promote their talents, to tune them individually into a rhythm that is worthy of them. I had thought that people are idealistic, that they are enthusiastic. That they want to contribute. That they want to grow. That they enjoy their work. That they love it. Well Chris, I guess it was pie in the sky.

The mocking voice again. He closed his eyes, tried to focus himself

"Hello team, so we've been discussing this for ages now, but unfortunately we haven't come up with any real ideas. That's a terrible shame a missed opportunity Looks like I have no choice but to continue alone with the presentation.

Yes, you're right, you can do better anyway, no problem, better do it that way, it's okay ...

The meeting broke up, he went into the office, sat down at his desk, everything was as usual, everything was fine. He tried to ignore the bitter, sour feeling in his stomach and start the next meeting.

Lona, again.

"Hello Chris. We need to talk about the business trip, it´s almost upon us. What have you got planned?"

Oh no, this trip to Munich and we must leave the day after tomorrow.He had wanted to go alone, but she had imposed herself as "CFO". He liked the customer in Munich, but he didn't feel like spending the whole time with Lona.

"Fine Lona, then let's plan. But maybe we can do that over lunch, because I'm really hungry. Are you, too?"

"Yes, I certainly am."

"Let's go then."

They always ate at the nearby DIY store restaurant. There was a meal of the day with a drink. Convenient, cheap and quick.

He got his schnitzel with chips, she got fried eggs with beans. They sat down on the cheap plastic chairs and began to eat. A splatter of sauce landed on Lona's pimple to the right of her mouth. He didn't want to see it and shoveled the food into himself. Then his phone rang.

"Marie, Marie, is it really you?" He beamed.

"Yes, my dearest Chris, it's me. How are you, Chrissie?"

She was the only one who had ever called him Chrissie. He hadn't heard from her for so long, he had missed her, now he was completely confused.

"I'm okay, Marie. How are you? What are you doing, why are you calling?"

"Oh, I'm on my way to Germany and I thought we could meet up. I'll be there tomorrow. Are you free? I'd love to see you."

Time. He had no time. He had to prepare the presentation, the business trip, the contracts..

"Of course I have time. When would you like to meet?”

"Oh Chrissie, great, I'll be in touch. But how about at our favourite Italian restaurant at 6:00 pm. Is that okay?"

"That sounds great, I'm so happy. See you tomorrow, Marie."

He couldn't help but notice how Lona's face stiffened.

She didn't speak, seemed absent and ... strange.

Chris decided not to pay attention to her.

He was already looking forward to seeing Marie.

2MARIE

I hadn't been to Germany for a while and hadn't missed it. On the contrary, the country had become foreign to me.

Lateral thinkers, Reichsbürger, (Reichsbürgerare often radical, right-wing, violent and do not recognize Germany as a legitimate state) an embarrassing throwback leading the opposition party, a ridiculous government.

I had to clarify a few things and then I would be off again.

But I was looking forward to seeing Chris.

We had both studied marketing at university, and he had caught my eye because he seemed so genuinely friendly and pleasant. But he was also brilliant, incredibly creative and funny. We had partied all night, worked hard, laughed, made friends, discussed and developed ideas - together we were really good.

We became best friends.

After graduating, I urged him to go to London with me because I had got an incredibly good job there and fought for him to come with me.

But of course, his daughter had already been born by then and he was married to Mimi.

I didn't like Mimi. No, that's an understatement: I can't stand her.

Dull, full of conceit, passive-aggressive and unspeakably boring, she spoiled everything with her nagging voice and provincial attitude. She was sopredictable.An imposition, just like that Lona person. (And yes, I'm often not fair).

While I was reminiscing, I ordered a glass of wine and suddenly I saw him.

I ducked away because I had to get my face under control (which I rarely manage to do).

He looked so tired, so sad and exhausted. Soold.

Chris had always been a handsome man; I mean classically handsome. He wears his brown hair long, he has bright blue eyes, a pleasant face, a winning smile.

But here stood someone who looked both bloated and gaunt, whose eyes had lost their shine and who was clearly not at peace with himself.

I am not sad. I am happy.

Smiling, I stood up and walked towards him: "Chris, how are you? Good to see you!"

We hugged and for a moment I saw his eyes flash, he laughed at me: "My goodness Marie, you look great! I'm so happy to see you. How long has it been?" "A year, maybe a little more, but a long time anyway."

When we sat at the table, it was just like before. Chris was my best friend, my brother in spirit, and that's exactly how it felt.

"What are you doing in your favorite country, Marie? Are you planning to come back? You know there's always a place for you with me."

"Very funny, Chrissie. No, I'm just here for a few days, I've got bureaucratic stuff to do, I need a new passport, a new driver's license and stuff like that. Since this country is completely digitally up to date, you have to apply for all that in person, of course; that's the only reason I'm here and, of course, to finally see you again." "How's your job? Are you still at that amazing agency?" "Yes, I'm still there, but I'm thinking about taking a year off, a kind of sabbatical. I've been able to put quite a lot of money aside and I just feel like traveling, thinking, maybe dreaming up a different life. We'll see." "And what does Oliver think?" "He's enthusiastic, he wants to cut back too and is trying to be there most of the time. You know, the pandemic has changed us a lot, or rather, a lot of things have come to the surface that had probably been lying dormant inside us for a while. I, for one, have less and less desire to be in the office, less desire for stress, deadlines and all that stuff. I know we're privileged, but we feel like we want to go through with it now. Let's see what happens." "Sure, you're privileged, but you've worked hard for it. I envy you." Chris seemed far away in thought, and I thought I could see melancholy in his eyes. "Let's order first and then you can tell me what's going on with you, yeah? I'm assuming you'll have the pizza with fried egg as usual, you pervert, right?" "You guessed it, colleague. But we'll share an appetizer, as usual? And we'll have a bottle of Primitivo, it's a must today. You're cordially invited."

We chatted casually and comfortably until the food arrived. It was good to let the evening unfold slowly, to reminisce and laugh. Between two bites of pasta, I asked him about his company; a shadow immediately flitted across his face. "Oh, I don't really want to talk about it, it's always the same crap and I'm really annoyed about everything..." But of course, he did talk and it was like déjà vu for me, I had heard it all hundreds of times before. People sat in their fat comfort zone, refused to take responsibility, lamented to themselves for hours on end, were lazy, unable to make decisions and always anxiously looking out for their own advantage.

"Yawn, Chris, yawn. This can't be true after all these years! Nothing has changed, how is that possible?"

Of course, he felt attacked and hurt, but he knew the truth himself and carried it with him every evening and every weekend: He was many things, he had great qualities, but there was one thing he couldn't do: be consequent and show toughness. He was not aleader.

"Oh Marie, let's leave it, I don't want to spoil our evening. I just want to have a nice time today, please."

"You've got it right, Chrissie. But don't you think I should play the disruptive element again?" I grinned, remembering my appearances at his company. Over the years, I had given presentations to his employees from time to time, held workshops with them, had one-to-one meetings and almost drove them crazy. It was a lot of fun, but unfortunately it didn't help, because Chris was busy for months afterwards trying to get the headless chickens back under control. However, it had shown one thing: hardly anyone had the potential to work in the way Chris imagined and was usual in marketing (although I knew a completely different level of stress in London, which was nothing like this). Chris laughed out loud: "Do you remember how the guys reacted, how they bitched? And didn't want to talk to you anymore? How the IT team locked themselves in their office so you wouldn't come and get them? Oh, and I had one sick note after another ..." "Lona looked like a crumble cake for weeks and she put a poopy baby diaper in my office," I giggled. "And Gisela sat crying by the crumble cake every morning and they stuffed themselves with chocolate and plotted revenge. Does Gisela still make snacks for customers when she doesn't feel like working?" "Yes, and unfortunately she's found support in Lona. Do you remember the scruff who hoarded his garbage in the office until everything was full of mold and it stank like the plague? Ah, that person was so disgusting." "Oh dear, I know to this day, and that ghastly sales guy who ..." Chris interrupted me. "Yes, and then they slandered you on the internet, on tath shitty platform and I ..." "Oh Chris, it's okay, it was a long time ago. Like we learned in marketing psychology: The system will do anything to preserve itself."

In fact, we had wanted to bring a positive atmosphere to the company, professionalism, enthusiasm and courage. Today we sound cynical, but back then we had started out full of euphoria - and failed miserably.

It didn't seem to be any different now. "Is everyone still here, Mr. Managing Director?" "No, not all of them. I've lost the best ones: Phil's gone, Anthony too and Christian. Well, and the rest are still here." He fell somberly silent.

What a shame, I had liked Phil the most of all of them. He was a brilliant developer, with rough edges as stubborn as he was lovable and as creative as he was anxious. A great guy and, strangely, one of the few people Chris hadn't gotten along with. Anthony and Christian - yes, they were young, they were just looking for a temporary solution.

"But really, Chrissie, are they still there from IT, is the crumble cake really still there, the doubter, vain Julian and fat Gisela? You can't tell me that. Tell me it's not true!" Chris looked so sad that I didn't want to probe him anymore. "Yes, they're all still there." But I couldn't stop. "Chrissie, man or mouse? What are you anyway?"

We had often had such conversations in the past and our friendship had almost broken down. But I just didn't understand it, didn't understand why he was squandering his talent, making himself small, not only not living his vision, but betraying it.

"Aaahh, please Marie, leave it. I can't stand it, not tonight." "Okay Chris, I'll let it go, but only if you tell me something positive about your company. You have three seconds."

"I have a pitch next Monday with the biggest cosmetics company in Europe."

That was really good, that was brilliant. Touché.

"Oh man, brother, how awesome is that! Do we have any wine left? Oh, come on, let's order a bottle. Let's have a toast, let's celebrate and then we'll go dancing. Tell me your strategy!"

I was in my element, I was thrilled. Finally, finally he had this chance,thisopportunity. Everything could change. And I knew he would win the pitch.

Chris looked at me for a long time: "I don't have a strategy yet. I sometimes feel so empty, so tired and driven. I wanted to develop this with Lona, but her ideas are a mess. Yes, now you're going to say again that you always knew that. And you're right, but that doesn't help me. Marie, I work 18 hours a day without accomplishing anything worth mentioning. I'm tired, so tired. I don't even have a flash of inspiration like I used to. Do you remember Thomas Buddenbrook? When he broke down because he had lost his world of ideas, his spiritual self? That's how I feel now."

I had seen that coming, as arrogant as it sounds. It was down to Chris's nature, his desire to discuss everything, to do everyone justice and to find a solution for everythingtogether. I remembered the bum project manager - what was his name, Udo or Jens, it didn't matter - whom he tried to get to finally do his job with endless conversations. He eventrainedhim in project management. The guy was hopeless and simply had no brains. A terrible loudmouth. The whole thing dragged on for two years, cost huge sums of money and made no business sense whatsoever. I talked to Chris with the tongues of angels, and eventually I broke off contact with him for a while because it upset me terribly. Eventually he sacked him because most of his customers simply didn't want to work with the loser anymore. But he didn't fire him untilthen.

The problem was that there were always these situations, these complete jerks, and he stuck religiously to his principle that you could steer everything in the right direction bytalking, and that he had deleted the wordconsequencefrom his vocabulary.

Are you familiar with Alexander Neill's Summerhill concept? Interesting, idealistic and visionary at first glance. At second glance, unrealizable. This companywasSummerhill:

Everyone could do what they thought was right. Everyone should be able todevelopin their own direction and bob around lazily in their comfort zone. Just no change! If a project swallowed up huge sums of money - yes, that was annoying, but there were no consequences. If someone disappeared into the home office without delivering useful results, you had to talk.But there was no consequence. If someone didn't want to continue their training, they didn't have to. Laissez-faire par excellence.

So, Chris wasted his timetalking, doing the work that his team didn't think was necessary and in the end was so exhausted that he had lost his creativity.

I was lost in thought and saw that Chris had ordered another bottle of wine. Suddenly I had an idea: "What if I help you? If we design the presentation together and give it together on Monday? We could put together something great, what do you think?"

Chris looked at me in complete astonishment: "You would do that? After everything you've experienced in my company. And you were planning to leave soon ..." "Chrissie, I'm doing this for you, and I wouldn't offer if I wasn't serious. I can still leave on Tuesday; Oliver is on a business trip in the States anyway and I'm still free next week. However, I will ask for a small fee."

"My God, you really mean it. You don't know what this means to me. I'm absolutely delighted, and I'm not worried at all now. I know we can do it. Yes, and we'll hold the pitch together. But are you allowed to do that? I mean, you have your job, don't you have a clause? Oh yes, and what would you like as a fee?" Suddenly he was unsure again.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. Really no problem and my fee is clear: liver sausage, bread, a tin of bratwurst and a nice cold Riesling. Maybe a little Camembert, what do you think?" Laughing, he jumped up, pulled me off my chair and spun me through the air. "You crazy person, this is the greatest thing I've ever experienced. Let's drink the wine and then we'll go dancing!"

And that's what we did.

3CHRIS

He woke up with a pounding head, but in a better mood than he had been for a long time. The evening had been long, fun, wonderful and crazy, he felt alive, full of energy and zest for action. They would make it, he just knew it. Marie was great, she was not only professional and disciplined, but also extremely creative and imaginative. She had also been able to gain experience over the past few years that he could never have dreamed of.

He stood in the shower smiling. Now he had to get the business trip with Lona over with and on Saturday they would brainstorm, develop ideas and work magic together. Should he rent a nice meeting room in the hotel? That would be better than the office. Yes, that was a good idea. And he would order catering with liver sausage and everything she had asked for. Something really delicious. Maybe some champagne, too.Great idea, Chris,he grinned and was already looking forward to getting to work.

"Good morning, Gisela. How are you this fine morning?" He opened the door with a flourish. Gisela sat at her desk with tousled, half-dried hair and looked at him suspiciously. "Oh, you're in a good mood today. Did you have a nice evening ...?" she asked, stretching. Word must have gotten around by now that he had met Marie, and Gisela - like most of the others here - had her own special memories. "Yes, I had a great evening and I'd like to ask you to make a reservation for Saturday from 10:00 at the Chateau. We need a meeting room with facilities. For catering, please order champagne, liver sausage, ..." She looked at him open-mouthed and didn't seem to understand. Again, he felt terribly irritated. "What's the matter? Shall I write it down for you? Well, I want to..."

He got himself a coffee and sat down in his office - still clinging on to his joy - and began to think about what the pitch could look like. There was a knock on the door.

"Yes, please?" He wasn't expecting anyone, it was still early. "Hello Chris, can I come in?"I don't know if you can, he thought irritably. Lona again. He sighed inwardly. Briefly, he said, "Yes, what is it?" She sat down at his meeting table, which meant she wouldn't be leaving again any time soon.

"Did you have a great evening with your best friend? Gisela said you need a room for Saturday at the hotel with champagne and catering. What's that for?" She puffed audibly. "I had a wonderful evening, thank you. Marie has offered to help me with the pitch, and we'll hold it together on Monday. We'll be at the hotel on Saturday, getting everything ready." He felt such anger boiling up inside him. Why did he have to justify himself? Why did the joy flow out of him when he entered his own company?

Stunned, she looked at him: "You want to holdour