12. Supersonic

“Could you please tell me why they plan the department outing to take place on a weekend? I hardly see my family as it is and now I am also supposed to sacrifice my precious spare time, only to be able to pretend to have fun with those idiots? You can’t be serious!”

A few weeks after Sabrina and Will’s wedding I was sitting in Beatrice’s office to discuss a new deal when an email from Tracey, addressed to the whole practice group, announcing the department getaway arrived in her inbox.

“That’s obvious - that way we don’t waste chargeable hours, and there’s nothing more precious than chargeable hours,” I replied.

“No! I am not going to play along with this! They are out of their minds! First they tell me, only after I reduced to sixty per cent., that, as a part-time associate, I can never become counsel because I don’t work enough, then I work like a maniac, neglect my new-born second child and now - tell me, whose glorious idea was this?” she interrupted herself.

“Tracey’s. That’s why I already knew about it. She told us that she has come up with lots of team building activities which will be such jolly good fun!”

“No shit. Yeah, of course I’m really looking forward to jumping on the bouncy castle with David Byrd!” She shook her head.

I laughed. “Or leapfrogging with Keel,” I suggested, “imagine - him and Mayer doing the hula-hoop or an egg race!”

“Hahaha, stop it! I can’t bear it!” she laughed.

“What’s going on here? Can anyone join in?” Jacob stood in the doorway.

“We’re just imagining how much fun we’ll have on our departmental trip,” explained Beatrice. “In particular with the team-building activities.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m sure there will be some sort of party in the evening. Although, I think I can only bear the sight, of so many uncoordinated lawyers on the dance floor, with lots of alcohol,” I added.

“Hmm. Interesting,” Jacob replied. He gave me a provocative look. “Maybe I can drink champagne from your boots.” He chuckled mischievously.

“Huh? I’m not wearing any boots!”

“What on earth is going on in here? Are you having a tea party? Haven’t you got sufficient work to do?” Michael Stone had suddenly appeared behind Jacob. His eyes twinkled in playful severity through the big round glasses sitting on his long nose. For a moment he resembled an old owl.

“We just learned of the plans for the outing for the banking group,” Jacob explained.

“Surely you are going to come along?” I asked innocently even though I knew from our mutual past at Howard Hewitt that he despised that sort of event.

Stone snorted. “No effing way! Do have fun without me though. I don’t have time for games. The other banking partners, above all our dear Mrs. Taylor, are welcome to make fools out of themselves. The English just love that sort of thing,” he concluded and turned to leave.

Jacob and Beatrice giggled.

“See you later,” I threw at them and quickly followed Stone.

“Michael, do you have a moment?”

“Hm. If necessary,” he growled and held the door to his office open. He took a seat behind his desk. It was covered with paperwork piled several feet high.

“What is it, Ms. Krakowski? Is Tracey bugging you?”

I shook my head. “Wow, I wonder how you still manage to keep an overview,” I remarked and pointed at the piles of documents. “Anyway, what I wanted to say or rather wanted to ask - do you now have a specific date for Tracey’s departure to London? Shouldn’t this be happening soon?”

He slowly took off his glasses and leaned back in his char. “Well, here’s the thing. She doesn’t want to go back to London, and we can’t really force her to go. After all she currently has the highest billings here.”

My stomach churned. “But - you said she would leave this year for sure and then I was to succeed her? The counsel promotion was only an intermediate solution,” I insisted.

I would not let this go so easily. We had a deal. They had promised me.

“She’ll leave sooner or later - maybe at the beginning of next year. There is no space here for two English banking partners at the same time. In any case you have to build your business case and you’ll need her for that, as your sponsoring partner.”

“She will never support me if she wants to stay here.”

Michael shrugged. “That’s the way it is, Chloé. You can’t get around her. She is the one who can really judge and support you, and it does not seem to be going too well at the moment. I saw your figures - she complained to me that you don’t work enough and that under those circumstances she is not willing to support your promotion. What’s going on there?” He took off his glasses and studied me sternly.

I was appalled. “Excuse me? Tracey told me herself that she would give me less work, when Hugo left us. She was so understanding!”

“That may have been so, but not for an extended period of time - certainly not for two months. I have told you before, you have to watch out with her. Apart from that, this is objectively bullshit and won’t be tolerated.” He narrowed his lips.

I felt myself blushing. He was right. In my self-pity I had allowed my work to be neglected. On the other hand, why had Tracey not spoken to me first before complaining to Michael?

His telephone rang. He took the receiver and looked at me expectantly. I understood. The discussion was over.

I walked back to my office, thinking hard. I knew exactly what Michael had meant. The partnership process was very similar in most big law firms - you needed a business case and a personal case that had to be approved by at least a majority of the existing partners. To start with, in order to be even considered for the process, you clearly had to exceed your chargeable hours target over a period of several years. Then you had to demonstrate, in written detail, that you didn’t only do a good job on your transactions but also acquired follow-up deals, that you would in the future acquire new transactions and fulfil the high demands on turnover and profitability. Lars, my learned partner at Solomons, had summarised it very accurately: we are neither a charity nor the civil service.

Alternatively you worked for a partner who was generating so much business that it could sustain two partners. In both cases, however, you would need at least one sponsoring partner-namely the one you were working for primarily. The overall goal was to generate more income for all partners and to ensure the continued growth of the firm.

Last, but not least, you had to be ‘partner material’: self-confident, assertive, hungry, with the necessary scruples and ready to give one thousand per cent., day and night. Many large firms would test their candidates in assessment centres; where they would be made to play through all sorts of catastrophic scenarios which may or may not happen in the legal business world, watched closely by those partners constituting the new partners committee. I had survived and passed the three-day assessment centre at Howard Hewitt. Maybe it had not been like fighting in a war but it had felt close to it. If you showed any sign of weakness, you would be shot down.

Take my colleague Harold who worked for Dr. Keel. Richard Keel was very influential and prepared to use his influence in order to push his prodigy into the partnership selection process, after having let him work towards this goal over many years. Harold’s financial performance was good and Keel had sufficient business. Then the kind, quiet Harold was sent to the assessment centre and failed miserably. Keel dropped him immediately and chose his next prodigy who, applying the right mixture of ambition, ruthlessness and brown-nosing, went straight to Mount Olympus with flying colours. Meanwhile, Harold sat in his office, contemplating the photos of his family and asking himself why on earth he had sacrificed spending valuable time with his wife and children, one of which had been diagnosed with a serious illness.

Did I really want that? Becoming a partner at P&W had been my, eventual, promised outcome. Somehow I could no longer be bothered to take notice of the proverbial carrot dangling. I no longer believed I’d be allowed to grab it. Tracey had pleasantly surprised me when she appeared to show sympathy and a human touch; but when I took her word for it and let down my guard for a while she stuck a knife into my back.

Wasn’t my family and my relationship more important? I would see even less of Marie and Noëlle. I had already lost Hugo but I would not allow something like that to happen again. Life had to continue without him. If he did not want to be my partner in life, then someone else would.

* * *

A few days later on a Saturday morning at the end of August, I was sitting in a rail compartment with Jessica, Jacob and Mike and had just seen Beatrice walk past us.

“I say, I thought Beatrice wanted to boycott the outing?”

“She is always like that,” Jacob replied. “First bitch then yield.” He handed Jessica a bottle of beer. “Here - for you to relax, babe.” He chuckled.

Jessica refused. “I don’t think that’s a good idea - if the partners see us!”

“Crap. They are drinking more than everyone else!” Jacob shook his head. “Besides - which of the partners have turned up at all? Up to now I have only seen Tracey and Frank Smith, and they have gone to the bar with your fiancé and are downing one beer after the other!”

“I saw your boss, Gunther White, and Francis Mayer. I don’t think any other partners will be joining us,” Mike interjected. “They consider themselves far too important, especially Stone and Keel. As far as I know they have never been to such an event. They probably don’t think that it’s a good idea to socialise with associates.”

“My partners at Solomons had the same attitude,” I confirmed. “Most of the time they would cancel at the last minute under the pretext of a life-and-death transaction which they would have to save personally. In fact, however, they’d know from the start that they just couldn’t be bothered. It’s simple really; showing social skills and seeking personal contact with the associates neither increases their profit nor improves their ranking in the league tables.”

“Well, at least four of them made an effort. Chloé, did you see Dolores wearing her pyjama pants again? She has pleated her hair in braids?” Jessica giggled. “I mean, look at you! You are so stylish! I have these ugly walking shoes and rain jacket and you arrive with designer wellies and a Burberry coat!”

I laughed and lifted my colourful Pucci print wellies. “Of course, my dear! You can never be too glamorous, even at an office outing!”

“Who’s Dolores?” Jacob and Mike were bewildered.

“That’s our code for Tracey. It’s a character from Harry Potter - Dolores Umbridge, a particularly nasty and mean witch,” I explained.

“Talking of which - I better go and check on David. He may be wondering where I am.” Jessica rose and left the compartment.

Mike watched her walking away. “Haven’t they been engaged for more than a year now?”

“Hm. About two years, as far as I know,” I confirmed. “I don’t think they have set the date yet.”

“Maybe it’s better to leave it that way. In my experience, relationships between two lawyers don’t last,” Jacob declared laconically. “My ex-wife, Jasmin, is a lawyer. Claudia is a lawyer.”

I quickly turned my face towards the window in order to control my tears. “It doesn’t need two of them,” I whispered without looking at anybody.

Jacob had heard me. “Chloé, I’m also already divorced. It’s not because she was a lawyer. It just wasn’t right, and because it wasn’t right I didn’t make her my priority.” Jacob’s voice sounded sympathetic. “As far as Claudia is concerned, I should have broken up with her ages ago.”

I looked at him with surprise. “Why? I had the impression your relationship is quite stable.”

“Well, she wants children, get married - but I don’t. At all.”

“Do you love her?”

Jacob weighed the question. “She is really a sweet girl, but, to be honest, now that you ask me - no.” There was that expectant look again he had given me at the office family party.

Then aren’t you just wasting her time! That’s very selfish of you!”

Mike nodded in assent. “Natasha - my girlfriend - also wants to get married and have babies. I can imagine having all that with her, but not just yet.”

Jacob frowned. “I was hoping all summer that she would find somebody else. By the way, she really liked your ex-boyfriend, this Hugo guy. I must say he is attractive - but of course I am much better looking, hahaha!” he declared with a husky Marlon Brando playing Don Corleone voice.

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you guys all think this Godfather imitation is cool? It just sounds daft!”

Jacob protruded his low jaw, lifted his cheeks and wrinkled one brow, and with a rough voice spoke under his breath “You know why? Because we can!”, which threw Mike into fits of laughter.

“You’re so silly! For once we’re having a serious conversation and you just have to turn all juvenile again,” I snorted.

“I’m sorry - you’re right,” Jacob appeased me. “I do have to split up with her, if she doesn’t split up with me. Up to now I just didn’t have any reason to do so.”

Something in his voice made me sit up and take notice. I watched him rummaging for something in his travel bag. I noticed his tanned upper arms. I had never seen him in a T-shirt, only a suit and long-sleeved shirt. He had seemed to me to be rather too slim for my taste. Actually, he wasn’t. Hm. Those biceps looked strong. I meditatively took a sip from my beer bottle and picked up my magazine. Then I lowered it again.

I said, “You know, it strikes me that men just do that. They stay in a relationship just because it is comfortable. Even if they aren’t particularly happy, they won’t make a change unless or until they are somehow forced to.”

“Well, why not?” Jacob asked.

“Because the woman thinks it’s all fine, she is investing her time and love and making plans and then bam! From one moment to the next they just leave and move on. They decide it’s over and that’s all it takes. Like flicking a switch.”

“It’s not like that. It’s just - guys hate break ups. We are terrified of it. Hence the break-up by text or email,” he explained. “Once we’ve decided it, we just want to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.”

“The fact that you’re breaking someone’s heart is of no concern to you?”

“We just don’t want to deal with it,” he admitted.

“Then you’ve never had your heart broken.”

He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “In order for a heart to be broken, it must have loved. So maybe I have never really loved someone before.” Again he gave me that meaningful look.

I was lost for words. Was Jacob trying to tell me something?

For the remainder of the journey I found it impossible to get his words (and his upper arms) out of my mind. Nor did he leave my side. Each time we had to change trains he stayed with me, naturally, as if we somehow belonged together and he had to protect me. When we arrived at the hotel and stepped out of the bus, Tracey was standing in front of the entrance, holding a clipboard and grinning like a school teacher, both of which was in stark contrast to her Pippi Longstocking hair style.

“Now, please, would everybody come to me, one at a time, so I can let you know which room number you have and which group you have been assigned to!” she shouted at us.

“Group? Are we going to do group sessions now?” Mike asked with a tortured face.

“Maybe group sex with Tracey! Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,” Jacob teased him.

“You really don’t seem to have any other topic!” I rolled my eyes. “Urgh! I don’t even want to think about it!”

Jacob was highly amused about our reaction to his flippant remark.

“So, Jacob, you are with Beatrice, Mike and - let’s see,” Tracey smiled. “Oh yes, me.” I thought I detected something like a flirtatious undertone.

“Oh, super, Tracey,” Jacob replied, adopting her tone of voice, “and what exactly will we be doing together?” He grinned at her provocatively.

She blushed. “Uhm, actually it’s a surprise - but I’ll let you know anyway, hehe, just don’t tell the others - we will be going white water rafting and the groups are made up by those who will share a raft.”

“Wow, that sounds cool,” I commented.

Tracey shot me an irritated glance. “Uhm, yes, as I said, don’t tell anybody.” She consulted her list. “Chloé, you are with David, Jessica and Francis Mayer; although I think he may not be able to make it - he has an important conference call.”

Anything else would have surprised me. These kinds of conference calls are welcome excuses on such occasions. I made a sympathetic face. “Oh, that’s a shame.” But Tracey had already turned to the other people who had been waiting behind us.

Jacob grabbed my trolley case. “Come on, I’ll help you with that. Wow, that’s heavy - have you packed bricks in there?”

I shook my head. “Very funny. No - files, of course. Tracey provided Jessica and myself with homework. After all we must not waste any valuable working hours!”

“Hm. I guess then it’s up to me to ensure that you have at least some fun here!” Jacob’s eyes twinkled. You are such a flirt, I thought. Even Tracey was not able to resist his provocative charm.

“Hey, Chloé!” Jessica followed us into the lift. “You’re in a raft with me and David!”

“Yes, I know. I’m not sure that’s good for you though - I’ve never been rafting!”

“Oh you’ll pick it up - it’s such fun! Apparently the bus leaves in half an hour.”

“That leaves just enough time to check my emails.”

Jessica pulled a face. “I’ll have to pop into the business centre and log in properly. Tracey wants me to send the revised fee letter to Francobank.”

“Well then girls, off you go and do some work!” Jacob parked my trolley in front of my room and walked down the landing, looking for his room number.

I unlocked the door to my room, rolled my suitcase in and looked around. It was a little on the rustic side, but clean and spacious. After having unpacked my few things and placed the files on the small desk, I pulled my blackberry out of my bag. Of course its little red light was blinking. I scrolled through my emails which also contained some instructions from Tracey addressed to Jessica and I. In fact they were instructions to Jessica, I was only to check her work. Sometimes I suspected that Tracey was particularly tough on Jessica precisely because she was the fiancée of a partnership candidate, so as to make sure she would get no ideas about expecting any privileged treatment. Jessica allowed it to happen - as if she wanted to prove that she would always hang on in there. Even following her breakdown and hospitalisation she hadn’t really made any adjustments to her working manner.

I replied to several mails and then locked my valuables in the small safe. Looking at my watch, I realised it was time to go. I grabbed my waterproof anorak which I had specifically purchased for this occasion, stuffed my bikini into one of the side pockets and my blackberry, lipstick and handkerchief into my Louis Vuitton pochette (which in my view didn’t contravene Tracey’s instructions of ‘no handbags to the rafting!’) and ran down stairs to the bus where Tracey was waiting, again with the clipboard, but this time with a sour face.

“It’s about time, Chloé!”

“Sorry! I was only answering your emails, Tracey!” I triumphantly held up my blackberry and climbed on to the bus. She mumbled something and followed me.

“There’s a seat next to me. You can sit there,” she reluctantly instructed me and pointed at the row behind the driver.

“Thanks.”

I plunged into the empty window seat. I turned around and saw Jessica sitting behind me. “Good, you made it! I saw you sent the fee letter; well done, sweetie.”

She gave me a grateful smile. She pointed with her chin towards Tracey’s back, rolled her eyes and winked at me. Tracey was already emerged in her emails. I leaned back and concentrated on watching the road ahead of us in order to fight my usual travel sickness.

When we arrived at the white water rafting station we were handed wet suits and helmets. All women had to change together behind a curtain. I found a corner and managed to put on my bikini discreetly. I couldn’t help but get a glance of Tracey’s pale English body and to feel a sense of pity. She suddenly appeared very vulnerable and was just a woman trying not to show her hang-ups. Jessica eyed my stomach.

“My goodness, Chloé, it’s unbelievable that you have given birth to two children!”

I shook my head, hoping that Tracey hadn’t heard that. Anyway I felt like I was cheating due to my botoxed forehead and that I didn’t deserve any compliments. I probably had as many hang-ups as Tracey, if not more. As far as I knew she neither went on a diet nor to the gym nor had any beauty treatments. Maybe she had the fortune to be convinced that she deserved to be loved the way nature had intended.

I squeezed into my wet suit with great effort and joked about it in order to override Jessica’s remark. “Now I look like a real sausage!”

We went outside for the group photo. With our safety helmets we all looked like right idiots. I noticed Jacob in the back row winking at me. I quickly protruded my chin so that my lips looked fuller and zipped up my life jacket a little which, rather painfully, but effectively, squeezed my breasts together; at the same time I gave him my best rehearsed smile, tilting my head slightly to the back. Indeed he understood, looked at my cleavage and grinned at me. Mike caught him looking at me and nudged him in the ribs. “Jacob, let’s see whether we can make Chloé fall off the raft into the cold water,” he said loudly so that I could hear him.

“Ah-ha-ha! You’re so funny.” I shouted. He better not mean that. I had a flashback to a school outing, when I was in fifth grade. In my minds eye I saw a little ten year old me (in a yellow anorak, yuk, but at least with colourful wellies which I thought were really cool but all the children made fun of them) sliding into a muddy stream in the forest. The memory of my muddy wet trousers and the roaring laughter of my classmates made me panic.

“Don’t worry, David and I have done this quite a few times,” Jessica encouraged me. “It’s just a question of technique.”

Oh no.

I rowed for my life. The raft of Mike’s team (including Tracey) came dangerously close a few times but we were able to avoid it.

“Look, we are nearly there.” David pointed at the shore on the right where one of the organisers was standing and waving at us. On a meadow behind him they had set up marquees with long tables and benches. Smoke smelling of barbecued meat was rising from a large barbecue grill.

“Yay! We made it!” Jessica cried happily.

“No! Don’t stop rowing!” I screamed in panic because suddenly the raft of Jacob’s boss, Gunther White, appeared on our left.

David and Jessica just turned around, dumbfounded. It was too late. The raft rammed into us with full force. David and Jessica managed to hold on but, since I was at the front, I fell into the water sideways. The last thing I saw was White’s amused face. I emerged from the ice-cold water with my mascara smeared and my hair soaking wet, making my colleagues roar with laughter. The water wasn’t deep but I wished I could have submerged in it for good.

“Fuck it’s cold!” I stammered, while David gave me his hand with a suppressed grin in order to pull me onto the raft.

I scrambled back to my seat. Despite the wet suit I was shivering from being cold. When, after a few more strokes, we reached the shore we left the raft to the organisers who showed us the changing tent where they had deposited our things. Once I had changed back into dry clothes and wrapped a towel around my head (having been told, by the mirror, that not only had part of my dignity but all of my make-up been washed down the stream) I strolled to the drinks buffet.

“Where is the alcohol?” I asked the lady from the catering team when I only spotted soft drinks and water bottles on the table. She raised her eyebrows, frowned and pointed at the refrigerator behind her. “We’ve only got Beck’s beer.”

I asked her to open a bottle of Beck’s for me and took a large sip. It was too bitter for my taste but the alcohol helped to return some of my coolness.

“So, Mrs. Krakowski, everything alright again?” White appeared by my side. He was back in his corduroys and checked shirt.

“Of course, the dip in the stream was nicely refreshing after the vigorous rowing exercise!” I emphasised casually.

He nodded with satisfaction. “I knew you would be a good sport about it.”

“At P&W you have to be prepared to jump into the cold water; harhar!” Francis Mayer added, joining us.

“Ah-ha-ha. Unfortunately you missed the race, Mr. Mayer - as far as I know you were supposed to be on our boat,” I reminded him. I really felt like giving him a kick - no, actually both of them.

“Ah, yes, unfortunate indeed. Important telecon. The client insisted on having me there.”

Somebody put his hand on my shoulder. I turned around and looked into Jacob’s concerned face. “Is everything OK, Chloé?”

I turned away from White and Mayer who were already being schmoozed by David. “Yeah. I’m alright, but that really wasn’t funny.” I looked at the ground and kicked some bits of grass away. Don’t cry, Chloé, just because somebody shows you a little sympathy.

He touched my upper arm. “Come. I have saved a seat for you at our table. I can also get you something to eat.”

“That’s really kind of you. Thank you, Jacob.”

He returned my smile ...nearly tenderly. Uh-oh. I knew that kind of smile. He was not flirting anymore. He really liked me.

I followed him to a table at which Beatrice, Jessica and Mike were already sitting. As we were walking I noticed his broad shoulders and that the hair at the nape of his neck were slightly too long. I resisted the urge to lift my hand and touch the short soft curls. We sat down next to each other, not much space between us due to Mike taking up a large part of the bench. Neither Jacob nor I told Mike to make more room. It felt good to be close to him.

“Oh, sorry,” Jacob said when our legs touched inadvertently. This time it was my turn just to smile at him.

He did not leave my side again throughout the picnic.

After the outing we all returned to the hotel by bus. Back in my room I unlocked the safe, took out my wildly blinking blackberry and scrolled through my mails. I saw that Francobank had negotiated, with Tracey, another fifteen per cent. discount off of our fees. Great. That wasn’t good news for my business case. The last email was about two minutes old and from Jacob. He asked me to join him and the others in the spa. I deliberated briefly. It would probably be wonderfully relaxing to warm up in the sauna. I replied “OK” and put my still damp bikini back on, covering myself with a big fluffy towelling robe that I found in the bathroom.

The heated swimming pool outside was steaming invitingly, a contrast to the already snow-covered mountains in the distance.

“We’re here, Chloé!”

Jacob was standing in front of a small wooden hut at the other end of the pool with only a towel wrapped around his hips. I deduced that the hut was a sauna when the door opened and Mike stepped out looking very red in the face. “Phew! It’s fucking hot in there!” he laughed.

“Please, tell me, who’s in there?” I asked Jacob when I reached the hut.

“David, Mike, Tom, Roger and the new trainee - I don’t remember her name.”

“Me neither. Ahem. Oh well, fine.” I took off the robe and hung it on a hook. I grabbed a towel form the shelves.

“What, you are wearing a bikini to the sauna?” Mike held the door open for me.

“You must be joking. I am certainly not getting naked in front of you!” He had some nerve!

I stepped into the sauna room. It was dimly lit. Once I recovered some sight, in the semi-darkness, I nearly had a heart attack. Everybody was sitting naked on their towels - the trainee even with her legs drawn under her, offering a full view of her private parts. Oh. My. God. I quickly turned my eyes to the ground and sat down at the lower bench just by the door.

All I could make out, from the corner of my eyes, was naked flesh and skin and... urghhh! Roger got up, poured water on the hot stones and started to swing his towel in the air in order to spread the hot steam. I covered my eyes with my hands.

“Sit down, Roger! I don’t want to see you naked! Actually, I don’t want to see any of you naked!” I felt my panic rising.

Everybody laughed. Then even Tom got up and started wiggling his bottom. “So, Chloé, you really don’t want to see us naked?”

That was enough. I grabbed my towel and fled from the sauna. I quickly put my robe back on, relieved that I did not have to stay any longer.

“Too hot, wasn’t it?” Jacob had followed me. He suppressed a grin.

“That was disgusting! Eeek! Did you see the trainee?” I started laughing now, too.

“Not her, only her beaver!” he cracked up.

We were still laughing when the lift stopped at our floor. I held up my key. “Now I am going to have a nice long shower - dinner’s in an hour’s time. See you then?”

“Shall we dine together - uhm, I mean share a table?”

“Sure! See you later.”

I unlocked my door. He walked on towards his room, turned around again and gave me a little wave with his hand. I felt all warm and fuzzy. Somehow I had the feeling I was no longer alone here anymore.

My suspicions were confirmed as the evening progressed. Even Jessica noticed how much attention Jacob paid to me (“I think he likes you, Chloé, I have never seen him make such an effort for a woman!”). After dinner we all went to the hotel bar for cocktails. I found myself at the bar, surrounded by male colleagues and the female trainee (I could not get that picture out of my head anymore). Somebody ordered a round of Mojitos. Jacob took two, handing me one of them.

“Let’s go over there - it’ll be quieter.” He slightly hustled me to the nearest pillar.

“Cheers.” He clinked his glass with mine. “That was quite a nice day.”

“Yes, surprisingly so. Except for my involuntary bath in the stream and the even more involuntary sightings in the sauna!” I shivered with disgust.

“They did that partly on purpose, particularly Roger.”

“Phhh. It’s like being in kindergarten.” I took a large sip from my Mojito. “Hm, yummy.” I eyed him up surreptitiously. Why hadn’t I previously noticed just how cute Jacob was?

“How long have we known each other?” I asked.

“Let’s see - that Australian deal was about five years ago. After that we exchanged a few calls and emails. For the last year and four months you have been my office neighbour. By the way, when we did that deal five years ago? I thought at the time that it was really totally sweet of you when you called me and offered your help.”

“Really? I did that? I can hardly remember that telephone call.”

“It was just before Christmas. We had to draft all these contracts at short notice and were under immense time pressure. I don’t know why but I told you then how crappy I thought that was and that I wanted to go and see my little son for Christmas. I remember very well, you said that you sympathised fully because you also had young children. You were so nice, I was really surprised, and somehow, it made me feel less depressed. I have never forgotten that.”

“Oh yes. Now I remember. I thought it was very endearing that you told me about your son. It was a human moment in all that chaos.”

His eyes beamed so warmly it touched my heart. On impulse I leaned forward. “I think I have to kiss you tonight,” I whispered in his ear.

He grinned at me in happy surprise. “Really?” He put his left arm around me and stared at me intently. “Then go ahead,” he challenged me.

“Not here, in front of all these people!” I replied indignantly, “but I was going to go back to my room soon anyway,” I said casually.

“Chloé, all the guys think you’re hot. I’m no exception.”

“Rubbish! That’s nonsense,” I protested in horror and glanced at our colleagues standing in the vicinity. “After what they did today?” I had a brief vision of Gunther White’s gloating face when I fell into the water.

“No, it’s true. Believe me. Whatever - I would be proud if you chose me. Though I hope you know what you are doing.” His face took on a serious expression.

I slightly leaned my head onto his hand, which was still around my shoulder. At that moment I felt very drawn to him. Then I slowly disengaged from his arm.

“No idea,” I replied. “Let’s find out. Room 103.”

I left the bar, without turning around, and went to my room.

A few moments later there was a quiet knock on the door. When I opened it, Jacob was leaning against the frame. I grabbed him by his shirt and slowly pulled him in. We stood in front of each other and just looked at one another. He pulled a face. His lips trembled when he bent forward and found mine. He was no longer the cool wise arse but a vulnerable and sensitive person. We kissed tenderly for a while. Then he gently nudged me towards the bed, causing us to fall on it together. When he started stroking my breasts I stopped his hand.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” I said.

“I know,” he replied.

I paused. “What do you mean you know?”

“Because this is not about sex - well not only,” he grinned.

I grinned back. “Fine. In that case you may kiss me.”

And so he did.