Roxana

Una mattina mi sono alzato
E ho trovato l'invasor
O partigiano portami via
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao

"Kary! What the hell are you doing with this loud music so early in the morning? It's eight a.m. on a Sunday. It's one of the very rare occasions when I can sleep in, bitch," I cry out.

"Celebrating with you," says Kary, opening the door and stretching her tongue out.

I show her my middle finger and lay back down on the pillow.

"What? Your Italian problem was solved. My brother Sayid said that dad is considering Switzerland for mom's treatment. So, yeah, I am in a good mood, and I want to celebrate with you. Come on, we will go out for brunch."

"Kary... You know I can't afford brunch."

"Who said anything about you paying? I am certainly miles away from my past life financially speaking, but this occasion deserves celebrating."

An hour later, we are looking at the snow-covered Alps from behind the glass wall of a nice restaurant in Bern. Since the break-up from Bogdan, I have not been to a restaurant or a bar or anything that meant I had to pay money on frivolous things. Yes, those things that make life worth living, I didn't experience them in a long, long time.

So here we are soaking in the sun and the coffee. Even if my pseudo-relationship with Christian didn't improve significantly, he is in a better mood since he got that call from the staff of the Italian dude.
Apparently, they are still thinking about hiring our company despite everything that happened.

I mean, if I would hire a company it would not matter to me that a little employee embarrassed herself a bit, or a lot, only the professional credentials would matter.
So, thank you hunky Italian dude for reconsidering. Regardless of the reason, I owe you one.
I can't help wondering if Lisa will proceed in having an affair with the guy if we will be working for them. It seems to be her project when it comes to planning, that's why Christian took her to the meeting. From this point of view, I am happy to not be the one working on that building.

Lisa is very good; I respect her as a professional, but she really does not like me personally and has shown me that several times. It's okay, I am not everyone's cup of tea, but it makes working together way more difficult if you share your profound dislike for me at every step.

Not sure if Christian knows about her strategic hand placement. In all honesty, I don't know how she thought that would be a good idea. It is anyway difficult to be taken seriously as a woman in this field, you are not doing yourself a favor by doing that.

The moral of the story is, that if Christian is happy so am I.

"Who is going to do that fabulous project in Italy?" asks Kary.

"Not me for sure. I think Christian wants to put a safe distance between me and that Italian guy, which I am more than okay with. I guess Peter. He wants to impress the guy because seemingly he is quite rich and can give us further work."

"Cool. And how about the raise?"

"That is probably gone after the 'crouch' incident."

"Too bad. Lisa is very hot. I wonder why she does that; it is not like she lacks male attention. Was the guy that hot?"

"Agreed and dunno' why. She is probably insecure like most pretty girls. And about the guy, I guess you could say he is conventionally attractive. I couldn't take a good look at him as I was paralyzed with embarrassment and fear but I remember he had nice eyes and was hunky."

"And rich and Italian. I suppose that is enough for most women," says Kary smiling.

"Bah, why is it an asset being Italian?"

"Well they', dark and sexy, have that accent and are very good at sweet talk. I remember when I was dating that girl from Napoli, I think her name was Francesca or Fabiola or I don't remember, something with F, I was terribly turned on by how she pronounced stuff in her language. Mio cuore, amore, and so on," says Kary theatrically while laughing.

"If you say so..."

I glance once again at the mountains. They are breathtaking. The way the sun shines and makes the peaks glitter reminds me that life is beautiful, a most magnificent gift despite all problems.

"Thanks for taking me out, Kary."

"You are welcome. If I would still be rich I would give you the cash so you don't have to sacrifice your life to pay that creep."

"I know you would."

I actually know she would but life is seldom that easy.

The rest of the Sunday passes just as pleasantly. I work a bit and study German, which I usually do on Sundays, and fall asleep happier than the week before.

On Monday I find Christian in the kitchen. He is again his jolly self and tells me smiling that this evening he will fly to Sicily to sign the contract with the Italians.

I melt away under his dashing smile and go on with my life.

He is taking Lisa and Peter with him to the meeting, which makes sense in the given context. I am just happy that for me the torture is over.

Lisa returns from Italy in an ambiguous mood a few days later. I can't help but wonder how her liaison with hunky Italian rich guy evolved but there is no way for me to find out and none of my business anyway.

At the beginning of February, the contract is signed and Peter is preparing to leave on the first Friday of the month together with the Polish boys. I will miss them all.

As Christian mentioned, I will take over Peter's projects in Bern after all. The part with the raise has fallen into the cracks but that's okay. At least I am not fired.

Now I and Peter are spending even more time together. Sometimes he insists I have lunch with him. I resist as much as possible telling him I brought lunch from home but I just have to give in at least once in a while. He always insists on paying. I suppose he knows something is off since somebody who is paid fairly decent is so reluctant to spend money for lunch at the dinner across the street. Luckily he doesn't ask why. I don't want to have an embarrassing moment with him and I also don't want to lie to a man that has been nothing but nice to me.

"Ich geh heim, Rocky. Das solltest du auch machen. Rom wurde nicht an einem Tag erbaut und es gibt wichtigeres im Leben als Arbeit./ I am going home, Rocky. You should go too. Rome was not built in a day and there is more to life than work," he is telling me right now after we are the only ones left in the office.

"Ja, ich geh auch gleich./ Yes, I will also go anytime soon," I lie to him smiling because I know I still have pending issues to solve for tomorrow. This is a white lie though.

"Ich meine es ernst. In zwanzig Jahren, wann du so alt bist wie ich ist wirst du dich nicht daran erinnern wollen wie du deine Jugend in einem Büro vergeudet hast./ I mean it. In thirty years when you are my age that is not what you will want to remember."

"Du hast Recht, alles gut./ You are right, all good,"

The look in his eyes is a bit ambiguous.

"Komm, las dich drücken, ich fühle mich etwas melancholisch heute Abend; du erinnerst mich zu sehr an mich als ich jung war. Ich werde dich vermissen. Ich wünschte du könntest mit nach Italien kommen./ Come, give me a hug. I am feeling melancholic tonight. You remind me too much of me at your age. I will miss you. I wish you could come with us to Italy."

I stand up and walk over. It is a bit strange because Swiss people are not the most affectionate. This is actually the first hug I get from one. But regardless of that, it makes me emotional and I feel tears creeping into my eyes. Seemingly I miss my dad more than I thought.

"Gut Nacht, Rocky!/ Night', Rocky!"

"Gute Nacht, Peter!/ Good night, Peter!"

After two more hours, I make my way home. Tomorrow is my first day without Peter and I am a bit nervous. I need to be prepared.

The next morning, I tour the sites alone. It takes me more than usual without Peter but it's fine. It is not the same without him, Damian, Jakub, and the other guys.

When I reach the office the atmosphere is strange. Everyone seems tense.
I see Christian and Lisa, in Christian's office in a Zoom conference. Something is not right. They should have left for Sicily with Peter to have the kick-off. Why didn't they?

I go and sit at my desk and start reading the emails. Some of Peter's emails are redirected to my mailbox as I am now taking care of his projects.

My attention is caught by one in particular from Damian.

Rox. We reached today Palermo but Peter is not here and neither are the boss and Miss Lange. Called Peter a hundred times but he is not picking up. When was his plane supposed to land? What are we supposed to do now? Call me.

Greetings, Damian.

Ok. Now it is sure that something happened. I call Peter. No answer. I cannot barge into Christian's office because that will earn me another few weeks of silent treatment.

Hmm. I make my way to Walter's office. Walter and Christian are partners but divide the projects among themselves so they don't get to fight about ways of action. However, they generally know what is happening in each other's work in broad lines.

I knock decidedly. Walter is always cordial to me even if most of my projects are with Christian and we don't interfere much.

"Hallo Walter! Kann ich kurz reinkommen, hast du eine Sekunde? /Hello Walter, can I come in for a second?"

"Ja, Roxana. Wie kann ich helfen?/ Yes, Roxana. How can I help?"

"Warum sind Christian und Lisa immer noch hier? Und warum ist Peter nicht in Italien angekommen? Hat er den Flieger verpasst? das würde untypisch sein. Damian hat mir geschrieben dass sie angekommen sind aber dass keiner da ist./ Why are Christian and Lisa still here? And why is Peter not in Italy yet? Did he miss the plane? That would be unlike him. Damian writes that they arrived but that there is nobody there."

"Oh. Du hast es nicht mitbekommen. Peter hat heute Nacht einen Herzinfarkt gehabt. Er wird gerade operiert./ Oh. You don't know. Peter had a heart attack last night. He is in surgery now."

It feels like all the blood is drained from my body and I am really cold all of a sudden.

"Das. Das kann nicht sein. Wir haben uns heute Abend noch unterhalten.../ This cannot be. He was fine last evening. We talked..."

"Es ist leider wahr. Ich habe vorhin mit deiner Frau gesprochen. Christian muss jetzt klären wer nach Italien fliegt. Mal schauen. Ruf Damian an und sag ihm er soll im Hotel warten. Morgen wird einer kommen. Wir wissen nur noch nicht wer. / It is unfortunately true. I have just talked to his wife. Christian has to decide now who is going to Italy in his place. Let's see. Call Damian and tell him to wait at the hotel. Somebody will be there tomorrow. We just don't know yet who. "

"Sure. Will do," I say absentminded in English, and leave.

Soon after, the phone starts ringing and the day flies away in a frenzy. I am torn between calls asking about Peter and the usual issues and barely notice it's dark outside and everyone left.

Sighing, I shut the computer down and pack my stuff to leave. I am a mess; just want to get home and cry.

"Roxane?" I hear Christian's voice and footsteps.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a moment?" He looks tired but is still his very handsome and charming self. 

"Sure. How can I help?"

"Hmm. I don't know how to phrase so I will just say it. How would you feel about flying to Sicily tomorrow?"

"Me?" I say, my mouth gaping open. I just stare at him while he comes closer and places his hands on my shoulders.

Even tired, with messy hair and weary eyes he looks just breathtaking to me. If I would not know better I would close him in my arms to comfort him. I am dying to do that when I look into his bright but sorrowful eyes.

"Why? Why me? I... I don't have enough experience and... and there are better people." My voice is barely a whisper when I see him coming slightly closer and moving one hand from my shoulder to my cheek.

He never touched me in any way before and now he is doing this. Why? And why today when I am a mess myself and need comforting?

"It is just temporary, don't worry. But we need somebody that gets there fast. Peter prepared everything. You are used to his way of doing things. And well... I, I trust you. I trust you will do a good job," he says and smiles at me and I melt away and lose my soul to the devil before me disguised so well as an angel.

"Please, say yes," he continues and brushes a strand of hair from my forehead behind my ear. I am sold for eternity.

"Yes," I whisper because I am lost.

----------------------------

Ok. So we are getting closer to the actual action happening. It's Italy beginning with the next chapter.

What do you think of Christian and their interaction?

;)