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- Herausgeber: Charbellini Press
- Serie: Maxime mini-series
- Sprache: Englisch
Following his gut instincts is what Maxime does best…
He does not believe in fate and has his doubts about serendipity.
He has learned, growing up in the shadow of an older brother and father, not to throw matters to the four corners of the wind to fend for themselves.
Living in Switzerland, the brothers drive to Davos where they bump into the Dykeman sisters, visiting exchange students.
Within minutes of meeting, they are branded by the sisters as opportunistic chauvinists.
Maxime, intrigued by the spirited younger sister, Donna, realizes he has only two months to prove not all Swiss men are arrogant asses.
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Seitenzahl: 38
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
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Young Maxime
Danie Botha
Charbellini Press
Contents
Half title page
Young Maxime
Afterword
Also By Danie Botha
YOUNG MAXIME
The Prequel
A short story
by Danie Botha
Young Maxime
Copyright ©2017 Danie Botha
All rights reserved
This eBook was published under Charbellini Press.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the express permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This short story is a work of fiction. All the characters and situations and some of the locations are fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
http://www.daniebotha.com
Published in the United States by Charbellini Press
ISBN: 978-0-9951748-6-3
Young Maxime
Created with Vellum
Young Maxime
Following his gut instincts was what Maxime did best.
He did not believe in fate, and he had his doubts about serendipity.
He had learned, growing up in the shadow of an older brother and a father who lived his life guided by three pages of life rules, not to throw matters to the four corners of the wind to fend for themselves. Whenever he failed to take a stand, things often turned sour, biting Maxime, being the youngest, in the behind.
Maxime Baumann and his brother Gunther had traveled that morning in Gunther’s car to Basel-Stadt, in the Swiss Alps. Gunther, insisting on running his own errands, left Maxime, who had come along for the company, to his own devices. Retreating to the balcony of the spire of the Basel Minster cathedral, he had a grand view of the old city. The summer’s day was lovely—cloudless skies allowed him sighting of Germany to the northeast and France to the northwest. Maxime never tired of the azure heavens, breathing the muskiness of the Rhein, as the river, a mere hundred yards away, snaked silver and glistening through the city.
When the brothers met again at noon, Gunther brimmed with excitement. He had bumped into two sisters, Donna and Cornelia Dykeman at the bus depot. They had missed their tour bus from Basel to Davos he explained.
“The least we can do is offer them a ride to Davos. They’re visiting from Canada—for two entire months!”
“How did you end up at the busdepot?”
“I had to meet someone at the station, next-door to the depot.”
“Why the sudden concern, Gunther? They’re only tourists.”
“It will be the gentleman thing to do.”
An hour later, as Gunther introduced the ladies, it was clear why he had been so adamant to help. Donna Dykeman was the epitome of beauty and youth. The brothers would soon learn the innocence of girlhood that lingered around her was infused with a near-lethal dose of defiance.
Cornelia Dykeman had her doubts about inconveniencing the Swiss men. What would her mother say? God forbid—the men were strangers. “We cannot possibly accept your offer, sir. It’s two hundred thirty kilometers to the valley. We can never expect you to do this for—”
“I wasn’t offering it for free.” Gunther straightened his shoulders. “It’s two hundred thirty-sixkilometers.”
“Arrogant asshole.” Donna, crimson in the face, pulled her older sister by the arm, her eyes drilling into the Baumann men. “The travel guide lied. It claims Switzerland is the most hospitable country in Europe—for the third consecutive year since seventy-three.”
Maxime shoved his brother aside. “It is.”
Gunther clasped Maxime’s shoulder. “We’ll give them a fifty percent discount on what they would have paid for the bus.”
“Hah! Come, Corrie. We’ll wait for the next bus.” Donna yanked with more determination on her sister’s elbow.
“Good luck with that.” Gunther laughed. “The next bus is at nine tomorrow morning. You’ll need a youth hostel or a hotel. The rates for a two star—”
“Why would we settle for a two star? Perhaps we should have picked Lisbon or Rome.”
“Lieber Gott!” Gunther moaned. “Don’t be so sensitive. Relax. I was pulling your leg.”
“Relax, my ass.”
The two girls took off without a further word, each hunched under a sizeable backpack. Maxime had to jog to catch up. “Misses, excuse me! Pardon my brother’s rudeness.” He planted himself in front of the sisters.
“You’re blocking our way.” Donna advanced, her lips tight.
“We’ll take you to Davos.” Maxime remained rooted.
“Your brother’s humor is appalling.”
“Yes . . . His social skills are somewhat deficient.”
“Somewhat?”
“Okay, significantly.”
“He’s an asshole.”
