Episode 5

Emma

I grab my tablet, putting the final touches on the project I have to submit before noon. I adjust a couple of details in the typography and breathe a sigh of relief when everything finally fits. It's that moment when I can lean back against the chair, stretch my neck back, and feel for an instant that there's no more pressure on me.

The door to my office opens and Eva appears, my colleague and inseparable friend in this place. Her smile brings energy and chaos at the same time.

"So?" she asks, leaning against the door frame. "Are you taking your boyfriend to the opening party of the new branch, or did he tell you again that he doesn't like crowds?"

I smile at her, but not with happiness. It's that bitter smile that gets stuck more in the throat than on the lips because of the topic I've been trying to avoid for weeks.

"Maybe I won't even go to the party," I say, feigning indifference as I close a couple of files on the screen. "I'm thinking of asking for a vacation. Maybe I'll go visit my parents."

Eva's eyes widen as if she's just heard I'm moving to another continent.

"You're going to France?" she asks, excited.

I shrug, as if it's no big deal, and reply amused:

"That's where they live, right?"

She laughs with me, that light laughter that only she knows how to elicit in the worst moments. And then she starts bombarding me with questions: exactly where in France I'm going to stay, if I'll take someone with me.

But before I can give her any answer, the door opens again. This time it's a delivery man with a huge arrangement of roses that looks like it came out of a romantic movie. Red roses, perfect and noticeably expensive. Too expensive.

"Delivery for Emma Bermont," the man announces, looking at the card he's holding in his hand.

I stand still, confused. The only one capable of such a gesture would be Stefan… but Stefan is precisely the person who would have the least reason to send me flowers right now.

Eva, with the speed of a child at Christmas, steps forward, takes the arrangement, and receives it as if they were for her.

"Thank you!" she tells the delivery man before closing the door with a smile that barely fits on her face. She places the arrangement on my desk triumphantly. "Look at them! They're beautiful."

I swallow and take the card. Feigning calm. If this is Stefan's doing, I'll set them on fire.

"Stefan is so sweet…" Eva says, with a dreamy sigh. "I wish I had a man as romantic as that."

I nod, but my mind is far from her words. Because when I open the card, my heart leaps impossibly.

"Let me invite you tonight to an activity less torturous than going to the gym."

And below, a signature that forces me to read it twice:

The KGB trainer.

My lips curve, first in disbelief, then in a slow smile that fills me with adrenaline. They're from Stefan's father. Robert.

How did he know my name or where I work?

I reread the note, as if doing so would make everything more real. And it is. I did it.

Stefan's father is asking me out.

The card is still in my hands, wrinkled at the corners from squeezing it so much, as if I could squeeze an answer out of it that isn't coming. My heart is beating so hard that it echoes in my ears, and I have the sensation that my whole body is vibrating with that force.

I did it. That's what I wanted, right? To get his attention. And I did. But now… what the hell do I do with that?

I lean back in the chair and close my eyes, trying to breathe slowly, even though the air is catching in my throat and anxiety is devouring me. Until a few weeks ago, Robert was simply Stefan's dad. My almost father-in-law. The man I was excited to meet because of his son, and now… now he's asking me on a date.

I hope I'm not getting tangled up in something that could cost me more than I imagine.

I open my eyes and look at the arrangement of roses, huge and dazzling in the middle of my desk. Each perfect petal screams at me that this is real, that it's not a misunderstanding or a cruel joke. He thought of me and is interested in meeting the girl from the gym.

No, I can't involve feelings in this. They just left me, made fun of me in a cruel way. Stefan's father is not to blame and I'm not going to make him suffer, I'm just going to use him for a while to make his son's life the same torment that he subjected me to.

But God, this man makes me nervous. What am I supposed to say or what am I supposed to do? Robert is not a boy my age that I can impress with a flirty smile and an impromptu trip to the trendy bar. No. He's a man who could be my father, owner of a damn multinational corporation, with more experience than me in any sense. A man who has seen and lived too much for me to surprise him with anything.

I get up from the chair, walk from one side of the office to the other, clenching my hands until my knuckles hurt.

The first step was to get his attention, and I did. But then… how do I hold him? How do I make sure he doesn't see me as a passing distraction, a whim of a twenty-year-old who wants to play at dating older men?

Anxiety stabs me in the stomach, a bitter tingling that stirs everything inside me. I think of Stefan, how easy it was with him: to show myself in love, to tell him that he was perfect, to fit into the image that I myself built around him. But Robert… Robert is another league. He must see more than I want to show.

I lean against the desk and look at the card again, that playful phrase that seems so innocent and yet is tearing me apart with nerves:

"Let me invite you tonight to an activity less torturous than going to the gym."

My lips move on their own, murmuring softly:

"What the hell am I going to do on a date with him?"

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