Page 36 of Tell Me What You Want

I get to the office at eight thirty. I run into Miguel in the elevator, and we high-five over the Euro Cup. We go up to the cafeteria and take a seat at our table to have our coffees. Ten minutes later, I drop the madeleine in my hand when I see Eric come in with my supervisor and two others.

He looks impressive in his dark suit and light-colored shirt. I can tell by his dour expression that he’s talking business. When they get to the counter and order their coffees, he sees me. I keep on talking, enjoying my colleague’s company, though I can see in my peripheral vision that they’ve taken a table far from ours. Eric sits in the chair facing me. He looks at me and I look back. Our eyes connect for a fraction of a second; as expected, my body reacts.

“Well, well, the bosses have arrived,” says Miguel. “I heard you got stuck in the elevator the other day, with the new big boss.”

“Yes, with him and a bunch of other people,” I say indifferently. But determined to learn more about Eric, I press Miguel. “Hey, since you were his father’s admin, do you know how he died?”

Miguel glances back at the bosses’ table.

“To be honest, he was a strange man who didn’t talk much. He died of a heart attack.” When he sees my supervisor laughing, he whispers, “But what I see now is that your supervisor likes the new big boss. Just look at how she laughs and touches her hair.”

I can’t help but look back at the table, and again, my eyes meet Eric’s cool and icy stare.

“Did the elder Mr.Zimmerman have any other kids?”

“Yes, but only the Iceman lives.”

“The Iceman?”

Miguel laughs. “Eric Zimmerman. Haven’t you seen that frigid expression of his?”

That makes me laugh.

“From what I hear, he’s a tough nut to crack, much tougher than his father.”

“He’s the only living child?” I ask.

“He had a sister, but she died a few years ago.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, Judith ... Mr.Zimmerman never talked about it. I only know because one day he told me he had to leave, that he was going to Germany for his daughter’s funeral.”

This makes me feel terrible. Two deaths in such a short time must be very painful.

“Mr.Zimmerman was separated from his wife,” Miguel continues. “He and the Iceman didn’t have a good relationship. That’s why Eric never used to come to Spain.”

These details disturb me.

“Why didn’t they have a good relationship?”

“I don’t know, gorgeous,” Miguel responds as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Mr.Zimmerman was pretty private when it came to his personal life. By the way, when are you going to go out for drinks with me?”

I put my elbows on the table and let my chin fall in my hands. I gaze up at him adoringly.

“I think never,” I say, “because I don’t like to mix business with pleasure.” I’m being ironic, but Miguel doesn’t really get it, and that charms me too.

He comes a little closer. “When you say ‘pleasure,’ what kind of pleasure do you mean?” he whispers.

I don’t move a muscle. “Let’s see, handsome. You’re the piece of candy everyone in the office wants, and I’m a very jealous woman who doesn’t like to share. So ... you’d better find someone else, because you’re getting nowhere with me.”

“Oh, I like a challenge!”

This makes me laugh again, and Miguel too. Suddenly, I see Eric get up and leave the cafeteria, and I can breathe once more. It’s a relief to not have him so close. Ten minutes later, Miguel and I return to our posts.

Back at my desk, I see the big boss’s door is wide open. When I sit down, my cell buzzes.

“Flirting during office hours?”

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