Page 58 of Tattooed Sweetness

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Page 58 of Tattooed Sweetness

I let him talk, looking out into the glistening sunlight of the balmy summer day behind the windows. It’s crazy how quickly time flew by… Almost three months have passed since my spontaneous decision to become a silent partner in Philipp’s lifelong dream.

Silent, mainly because I don’t dare to tell anyone about it.

Horst and especially Mareike would call me crazy. Accuse me of playing recklessly with my inheritance.

Kevin? Oh, dear. I’d rather not think about his potential reaction. After all, two years ago he asked me to invest some of the money into his idea of an independent insurance agency.

At the time, I turned him down, pointing to the clearly defined purpose of the sum: a home for me—and him.

And now?

I don’t know what got into me when I offered Philipp the loan.

In the meantime, two installments of interest and repayment have already been credited to my—newly opened—online account. On time, in their entirety. And a clear plus instead of the penalties my house bank had made.

No! I was in no way acting irrationally, emotionally, or mindlessly when I made this decision!The money is invested safely and profitably at the same time. And if Kevin should still warm up to one of the single-family homes Horst, finds in his best hound-dog manner… Then I could still borrow against the property in the industrial area as collateral. Because, of course, I am registered as co-owner in the land register…

So: All is well!

The only thing I must not give in to is the urge to tell Pauline about it! I know her too well.

It’s not intentional on her part, but she just can’t keep secrets…

…just like my customer, who—after repeating himself at least five times—has now finally come to the end of our conversation.

“Feel free to come back to me at any time if you have further questions,” I fib with as much persuasion as I can muster. Then I hang up the phone and complete the handwritten phone notes. Finally, I fold the pad shut and let it disappear into the desk drawer. I can type it out tomorrow, too. Although it’s only Monday, all I want to do now is call it a day.Out of the office!

I step forward to the glass front of my office. Outside, behind the windowpane, the air is shimmering above the rooftops of the old town.

Couldn’t there have been such parade weather on the weekend?Kevin actually wanted to hold the barbecue party in honor of my—earlier—birthday on the Three-Fountain Meadow. But due to the rain, it had to be postponed from Saturday to Sunday and finally improvised in our apartment.

Kevin was grumpy because he had to stand on the balcony in a raincoat and turn the steaks and sausages. This fact had no positive effect on the moods of the guests. Without Aunt Mareike’s and Horst’s entertaining remarks, the party would probably have degenerated into a mourning event.

To be honest, Kevin leaving early this morning for a two-week training course in Montabaur made me quite glad. Even if it means I will spend my special day alone in my apartment this evening. Because Horst and Mareike have already gone home to Friesland.

But this won’t spoil my mood!Back at my desk, I stuff my cell phone, keys, and lip gloss into my handbag. I grin at my reflection on the computer display that has died down in the meantime—well, I look a little forced—and then:

Get out of here!

The carpet in the hallway muffles my steps, and empty offices yawn to the right and left. Apparently, I’m the last one to go home today. My heels clatter down the stairs, and their sound echoes twice as loudly in the strange silence.

To be on the safe side, I check my cell phone.Have I got the time wrong, and it’s already much later than I thought?No, it displays just after four p.m.—the earliest possible time to call it a day.Strange that everyone is already gone. But they probably want to enjoy the nice weather, maybe finish the day at the public outdoor pool.

You never know how long such a high-pressure area will last…

Whoa! What is that?Perplexed, I stop on the bottom step and stare at the crowd gathered there:

All my colleagues—and in the front row Pauline, who is currently miming as a conductor. “Haa-ppy Biiirth-dayyy to youu,” they bawl, judging by the grins on their faces, deliberately off-key. “…happy Biirth-day, dear Ce-line, happy Biiirth-day to youu!”

The popping of champagne corks mingles with their cheers for their performance.

Colleagues approach from all sides, hugging me. Kisses on the right and kisses on the left, gentle pats on the back from the young men, and a little stiff handshaking from the older men.

“Well, that’s…” I stammer, feeling heat shoot into my cheeks because I truly thought they had all forgotten my birthday.

“…clearly successful,” my boss finishes for me, pushing a champagne glass into my hand and toasting with me. “Happy birthday, dear Celine. It’s wonderful to have you on the team!”

Katja from the reception desk pushes past him and hugs me. “For once, Mr. Bretschneider is right: I can’t even imagine the Mosbach Chamber of Commerce and Industries office without you!” She winks at me and presses an envelope into my hand. “We’ve merged. Have fun!”




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