The greatest good is what we do for one another - Mother Teresa
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I had texted Linda during the afternoon that I was available again for work and enthusiastically started my night shift.
A couple of hours in Bee asked if I was ok.
"I am pretty sure I have never before seen you so... entangled and then relieved about UNI?" she asked puzzled.
"Yea... uhm the paper is done..."
"Must have been one hell of a paper. I have some staked up for the weekend myself. They will keep me from breathing any fresh air apart from the way to work." she sighed tortured and thankfully did not ask for more details. I badly needed to work on my poker face.
Bzzz my phone rang in my pocket.
I can wait, I can, I...
...can't. I am such a pushover. A text from Alex was my reward for checking it.
"Are you up for a round of training tonight?" He asked
"Can't wait to get my behind kicked." I replied instantly.
"That sounds interesting. See you soon :-*" A kissing Emoji, my breathing hitched.
"Ceeeee! Spill the deeds!" I looked up from my phone to where my friend held up a cleaning brush towards me.
Ohh.
"Uhhmm I may have met... a guy." I admitted "It is still nothing official or so..." I trailed off.
"So you haven't stripped off his pants yet." She dryly stated.
"BEEE! No, of course not!" I flustered when she made a suggestive mouth movement.
"Spoilsport, so no dirty details for me. Is he at least hot? You are a 10 so you deserve nothing less!", says the magnificent Barbie sitting next to me.
"He is hot." That much I could easily tell.
"How hot? Do you have any pics?" Pictures?! Like HELL, no.
"No, sorry. You have to trust me on this one. He is Habanero-hot." I giggled infecting her with it.
"As soon as you have one, show me! Promise!"
"I will, I promise." Holding up my hands in a swearing move.
"You better."
Alex showed as soon as Bee had left. No wonder he managed to be here so fast, as it was just a short elevator ride for him. He probably got the info from his security as soon as Bee stepped out of the elevator.
Compared to the great mood he had had the whole morning, now he was tense and doleful.
During the training it made no difference. He was as careful and gentle with me as always. ( Meaning just a couple of bruises and aching muscles. Krav Maga was no walk in the park.)
But he proved my presumption after our training.
As soon as I started stretching he excused himself, went to one of the treadmills and ran his heart out.
I remembered the first night, when he had used the treadmill at a steady level. Back then I thought he was fast. To be honest compared to me he had then already shown my full running speed. Now I estimated he moved twice as fast.
After 15 minutes at this nutcase speed, he joined me on the mats.
Instead of stretching, he continued doing push-ups. At 60 something I miscounted and gave up counting altogether. He didn't stop. Finishing up with full 20er sets of one-handed push-ups. My arms burned from watching.
"Uhm, are you all right?" I timidly asked, once he finally stopped.
Looking up, he frustratedly brushed the sweat from his forehead.
"Bad day at the office. Maybe I should hand in my notice."
His humour was drier than usual, still not completely lost. Gently I nudged him "Tell me."
The contact seemed to decrease his tension a tiny bit. So I started to softly kneed his shoulders.
Sighing he answered me, "I had to let someone go. One of the least favourite things I do. He is a heavy alcoholic and we have tried to help him before. Today he went crazy and threatened his colleagues with some conspiracy bullshit. I... I wish I could have done more. It feels like giving up on him."
"You didn't. You can only help an alcoholic if he wants the help." I squeezed his shoulders leaning on him in a hug.
"That sounds as if you speak of experience?" he asked sounding astounded with concern shining in his eyes when he turned his head.
"My uncle. As long as I can remember he had been difficult. When I was little I didn't understand why he was always so strange. As I grew older I understood, that it always got worse around afternoon, a beer bottle glued to his hand."
Memories I always pushed out of my thoughts. I shook my head in disagreement with my uncle's behaviour. How I still loathed the smell of old stale beer thanks to him.
"Every day my cousins tried to stay outside and avoid him as long as they could. Since my father was sick, we unfortunately couldn't spend much time at my house either. So, the fields and back alleys were our playground. Everyone told my uncle to stop. My aunt threatened him with a divorce and in the end even did it. The doctors intervened and my father, too. At least as long as he could before he got too sick. Nothing helped. It is not your fault." I stroked his back consoling him and myself equally.
"Stories like yours and from today help me realize how fortunate I am. Not the money, sure that is nice. My biggest fortune is that my parents and grandparents cared so much and stopped me from drifting off. Alcohol is a huge problem among rich people. Maybe one of the few things that knows no difference of wealth and background." He leaned back against me, noticeably enjoying my touch.
"My uncle was such a negative role model that neither I nor my cousins ever get drunk. He most probably drank and drinks enough for the whole family altogether." I snorted angrily.
Telling Alex about my uncle did not feel as humiliating as I always thought it was.
I never told anyone about it. Of course I theoretically knew that being from a family with an alcoholic did not make me a bad person. Still I was ashamed of his behaviour. It was stupid. I had never been able to shake off the embarrassment and remembered far too well the look of neighbours full of disgust and pity.
My mother had pretty much cut all ties to the family of my father after his funeral. As best as possible living in the same small village. Maybe it was also a reason why the big city had been so appealing for me.
"You do not drink at all?" Alex asked.
"Rarely. One cocktail at most. I never got used to it, so I do not need any drinks to have a good time. Just dancing or laughing is more than enough. What about you?" I still knew so little about him. Please let him not enjoy drinking. It... it really would bother me...
"As a teen there was a dangerous phase, with way too much alcohol. Since then I stayed pretty clear of it. Sometimes a glass of good Whiskey. My addiction is more sport related." he gestured around. Yes, that was hard to miss.
I did not want to pry but as he had mentioned it... "Uhm you said as a teenager it was different? What happened? Just... Like.. If you want to tell me. You do not have to!" Great, very cool Charlotte.
He chuckled "It is fine. If I do not want to answer I can always kiss you."
My heart picked up speed. In that case did I still prefer an answer?
My hands had stopped moving on his shoulders giving him a reason to turn around. And he did.
Taking my hands into his big paws his gaze drifted off.
So no kiss. What a shame.
"My school life was a bit unconventional. I have switched schools many times as my parents loved to show me the world and different cultures. We moved a lot and I my education ranged from a monastery in Asia, boarding schools in Europe and some time with private teachers. I was very sheltered. Coming back here as a teenager I was so drilled on academics that the NYC school life was a shock. Fake friends that dragged me into an abyss of party and alcohol. They were hardened by their families and scandals. I wasn't."
"I haven't read anything about that." I was really confounded. At least that he had lived most of his childhood abroad someone would know and post on the internet, wouldn't they?
"My parents have never made much fuss about where they stay. I have learned much from them.", he winked at me.
"When we are in New York it is a bit different, as we have some charity events to host. Everywhere else, we prefer invisibility above all."
Proud rich douche... I really wanted to deflate his ego and reply "as if anyone cared..." The problem was that "they" as for example the hyenas did care. A LOT.
"What helped you stop drinking?" Maybe that was something for my uncle? Doubtful.
"I made a deal with my father. For every year I would pull myself together and pay attention to my education, he would fund me the same time to do whatever I wanted. Zero responsibilities. The promise of no responsibilities was unrivalled for teenage me. Saved me from doing a lot of stupid things with stupid people."
"It sounds great and I am glad you had this deal. Sadly, I do not think this will work with my uncle. Too bad." It was really a shame I would love to help my cousins.
"Nah, I don't think so either. I also had a very special "teenage-sitter" slash bodyguard to take care of me. Eliot was a hardcore former Army doc, who I had no chance to make a fool off. He knew all signs of intoxication from a mile away and all the dirty tricks." Alex sounded not even remotely mad about his father's watchdog.
"Weren't you mad back then?"
"A couple of hours I was. Then I met El." he shrugged.
"He was so cool and trained me from day one. Hooking me up on sport has worked with me, as it has with so many other youngsters. Thankfully I did not know back then, that it was a tactic. It was also nice to not be a helpless rich jerk in need for protection. I am a firm believer that you best support and protect someone in enabling them to be strong themselves."
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Ahaa, that is why he sticked to training me.
He had been so affirmative and supportive from the start. I had wondered, why he was so into training me. I wad hardly an entertaining training partner for him.
"So, your watchdog was in the Army and a doctor... One may find a tiiiiny resemblance there." I equally raised my eyebrows knowingly.
Finally, something I had figured out about him.
"Busted. Yes, I admired him. Still do. After I finally had my business law degree with top grades I got my freedom... and used it to follow his footsteps. Joined the Army to become a doc just like him. I went under one of my mother's names as Alexander Holstein. Where he hadn't set my head straight, the Army for sure did."
"Your dad wasn't mad you joined? Seems a bit of a drastic change from billionaire heir." What a crazy life he had had.
"It wasn't what he had planned. True. On the other side he appreciated that the army kept me out of trouble for the next years. Very much so. And now I am too old and realistic to get into any anymore. All in all, he achieved what he wanted. Some of the other rich kids I went to school with took a frightening different path." He had a pity look in his eyes.
"Seems like you were already Mr. Lucky back then." I smirked citing Fin's nickname.
"About your Army career I haven't read anything either. You really fly under every newspaper radar!"
"Staying in the shadows keeps the creeps and hyenas at bay. I really do not like to explain to anyone wherever I go and what I do. Have you never wondered why the studio closes at nights? Think about it, this is NYC!"
"I was a bit surprised, when I found out. Always thought the studio is so posh the management and business owner can do whatever they want. Or rather YOU can do whatever you want."
"Trust me, the guests would prefer differently. But I couldn't care less. I have created this as my peaceful retreat. It closes so I can work out here all by myself. When I can't sleep or come back with jetlag I use it quite often. Upstairs I share the gym with the boys, which is great for training. Here I relax... and meet charming intruders." He smiled down at me.
"I am so glad you decided to close the studio at night. It really helped me out." I admitted boxing him lightly into his chest. "I cannot believe it! I have admitted that you helped me."
"Big progress, Ms Independent." he grinned tousling my hair.
"HEEEIIY"
The weekend was approaching fast and I was missing a starter.
I had decided my main would be the lasagne my mom had perfected over the years. It would taste great. Maybe not gourmet but oh so satisfying. Also my idea with the brownies would for sure hit the mark as dessert. Loaded with chocolate I have never had anyone complaining... Just the starter. What should I make?
I was a perfectionist when it came to food. For my brownie recipe, I had read dozens of recipes and created my dream version. Testing rounds and rounds of it. My cousins were my biggest customers back at home.
Making a dinner for Alex really put pressure on me. I had nowhere to practice.
Desperately I went to the one person, that could keep up with the standard he was used to: Val.
"Val, I... I need your help." This word really started to become a new habit of mine.
"What is the emergency, my dear?" Completely at ease behind his kitchen island he looked up from prepping some ingredients.
"Uhm so there is this..."
Friend?, training partner? He wasn't my boyfriend, was he? How would I describe it?
"...guy."
Val had the biggest imaginable smile on his face. Strange combination with the way too large and scary knife in his hand.
"Ahhh THIS kind of emergency." He suggestively raised his eyebrows. "And what exactly can I help with?" Pointing with the knife at me really had me worried for a second.
"Ah.. so I want to cook for him." Anxious I shrugged my shoulders. "I will make my mom's Lasagne and my Brownies. The problem is the starter. The Lasagne takes forever and I want to have something before it. To fill the time, you know?"
"Hm a real emergency. I may be able to help you with."
FINALLY he put down the knife and clapped his hands together.
"Let's see. It's a pretty hefty meal with Lasagne and Brownie. What about a salad? Figs and walnuts maybe with a vinaigrette?"
"Salad is ok... I guess. My aim was to impress and make satisfying stuff. You know?" My description was so amateurish... Let's just hope the food wouldn't be.
"Got it. Basically finger lickin' good?" he joked and I agreed nodding.
"In that case I would go for fresh focaccia. Fresh bread is just irresistible. You know the stuff they always give you in Italian restaurants? That is NOTHING compared to my focaccia. Make some homemade antipasti vegetables the day before and he will eat out of your hand!"
"That sounds perfect! Though I cannot prepare the day before. It is on Saturday and I have to work Friday and Saturday." Damn it.
"Even better! I am on duty on Friday and we can make it here together. I can show you step by step how to make it. The dough can stay in the fridge until two hours before baking on Saturday."
"HERE?! I mean... we cannot just use the stuff here!" Even with Alex being HIM, I did not want to do anything out of the ordinary at the studio. I was proud of my work ethic and morals.
"Haven't you heard? We got a memo two days ago that alle employees can eat for free at the studio. I always knew why I liked to work here! Great management. They appreciate food as much as I do." He knocked on his non-existent belly.
Yes, even our cooks fitted the attractive employees list.
Val was pretty sure of Italien descent with thick black hair and dark brown eyes. With his 40 plus years a tiny amount of silver strands completed his sophisticated look. Mr. Charming easily convinced the female guests to more than a salad in his elegant silver-grey apron and black cooking shirt.
Eating for free at the studio. Oh, Alex. That move was clearly made for me. And I could do nothing about it.
"You truly think it's ok to prepare it here?" I was still wary, if Linda would approve of such a kitchen use.
"Absolutely! We will simply make more to have some for the studio employees. It is more than fine. I will ask Linda if you can help out at the kitchen on Friday afternoon."
His initiative and delight floored me. "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it."
"Just call your firstborn Val." He cockily posed, warming my heart even more with his great humour.
A couple of minutes later I made my way up to M with the final list of ingredients. My recipes were simple and the additional suggestions from Val were not expensive either. I was content with the list.
I had just grabbed the handle to open M's office door, when I heard a staccato noise of heels drumming down a hallway sideways of me. It was shortly followed by a buzzing noise almost like a door bell.
Turning around I saw the glass door opened that separated Alex's team from the remaining offices. A middle-aged lady with a meticulous blonde bob, a figure-fitting costume and 5inch heels she wore like an amour with combat boots, stormed in.
Woah.
With an appalled look over my gym outfit she rushed past me.
"Ms Matkins, is Jonathan available? I have an urgent matter I want to discuss with him in person." I heard her announce while she tapped with her nails on M's desk.
Jonathan? Hm. I have had never heard anyone call him by his official first name.
Briefly M's eyes passed over her towards me and she gave me a small friendly nod of welcome. Her eyes then rested with a very professional smile on the woman that had ushered herself in.
"Hello Director Stevens, a pleasure to see you today. I am terribly sorry. Mr. Blumberg-Buchanan is not in the office at the moment. If it is urgent, please give him a call at..." she checked something on her computer "15:20. He will be in his car after his current meeting. It is the fasted you can get a hold of him. Unfortunately, he won't be back in today."
That was an amusing reply as he quite literally LIVED in his office. Or at least above it. As he wasn't on a business trip at some point he for sure would be back.
"How unfortunate, indeed. I had everything prepared..." Her voice trailed off. I had the slight feeling that she did not only talk about something business related.
"Thank you, I will give him a call at 15:20. Have a good day." as forceful as she had entered, she now seemed damped and even gave me a curtesy nod on her way out.
"Good afternoon. Would you please close the door, Charlotte?" M asked as I stepped in.
"Good afternoon, M." I answered low-spirited from this weird encounter.
"Sorry about that." she made a short flick with her hand towards the door.
"Director Stevens is wonderful at her job, with maybe a tad bit too much enthusiasm for Alexander. She means no harm and has probably build up the courage and a reason to see him for weeks. I have seldomly come across a person with a stricter moral code. If she knew about you, she would never impose. Do not give it a second thought, Charlotte."
My face must have been an open book for her. Jeez, I seem to always make a fool of myself in this office.
Anyhow I would have never expected any explanation.
"Oh, ok. It is none of my business anyway. Like I don't know her, I can't judge her." shrugging I played it down.
Back home everyone was so fast to judge, complain and tattle - triggering me for the opposite. Opinions, Decisions, Taste. No matter what, I tried to stay out of it.
Of course, I had my opinion. Surpassing me with this look? That hadn't been nice! But what did I know about her day or her life?
"Very thoughtful. It is a key interest of Alexander that you are supported. It is my pleasure to help you with and explain anything. Feel free to ask me whenever you are unsure about something. And between us, that was quite a show, wasn't it?" M chuckled.
What a surprise. She was not as dry as I had thought.
I took her up on her offer, "It was. What's about the name Jonathan? I have never heard anyone use it. The guys, you and Fin all call him Alexander?"
"He only uses Jonathan with his senior management and close business partners. Quite a smart move, don't you think? Everyone that is in his private circle and calls him Alex knows immediately."
Grinning I replied "He has his bright moments."
Her mouth twitched amused "Beside this... alteration... You came for a reason, didn't you? With what can I be of assistance? Alexander will be back quite late today. If you want to wait for him, it would be more comfortable upstairs?"
Ah, so he would be back. M had solved that very... diplomatic.
"I just wanted to give you uhm this list of ingredients. Alex told me you could organize to have them delivered to his place on the weekend? Hopefully this is no inconvenience?"
It felt so misplaced to ask this elegant lady to go shopping. I didn't quite know what her job was, running errands seemed much more on mine than on her level.
"Splendid. It is very nice of you to spoil him with a home-cooked dinner. I have blocked the whole evening in his calendar for your plans on Saturday. Please pass me the list. Everything will be waiting for you at... let us say 5 o'clock?"
I nodded and thanked her.
Not the tiniest frown for such an inferior task appeared on her face. I truly aspired to reach her level of coolness one day.