Paper Love Read online

  She was businesslike and seemed to approach every situation from a purely logical point of view, while Anja viewed life from a more interpersonal, emotional angle. Susanne loved cars; Anja didn’t even own one. She had eaten a bratwurst, while Anja had been a vegetarian since she’d been sixteen.

  Flirting with her was wrong. But it had also been amazingly fun, especially since she hadn’t flirted with anyone in a long time. No, no, no, no. Stop thinking like that. You’re not even the flirty type. Why start now, with her of all people?

  “…open?” the customer asked.

  Oh shit. She’d totally missed everything he’d been saying—and Susanne was still in the room and was probably watching her interact with the customer. Anja gritted her teeth. Instead of flirting with her, she should prove to her what a good salesperson she was. She took a wild guess, hoping he had asked her how long the store would be open tonight. “Um, until six thirty.”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “I asked if the notebook lies open when you use it. The one I’m using right now doesn’t lie flat but closes on its own whenever I let go of it.”

  Anja felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. “Oh. Sorry. I have the perfect notebook for you! We just got a delivery from a little Greek company. They use an entirely new type of binding that allows you to even bend the cover all the way back. It stays open like a dream.”

  His eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what I need.”

  Phew. “Give me a second. I’ll get you one from the stockroom.” Glad to escape for a moment, she rushed toward the back. As she passed Nobby and his niece, she caught snippets of their conversation. “Paperworld… Two free tickets…”

  Anja gave a joyful hop. They had gotten tickets for Paperworld? She had always wanted to go, but one thing or another had always come up that kept her from making it to the trade fair. Maybe they would find a new trend at the fair, something that would draw more well-paying customers to the store. She barely stopped herself from skipping all the way to the stockroom like a kid who’d just found out she’d be going to Disneyland.

  But right as she reached the door to the back, Nobby’s voice drifted over. “I thought you and Anja could go.”

  Oh boy. She had assumed she and Nobby would go, but, of course, they couldn’t leave Susanne at the store alone, and Felix, their part-time employee, had never covered an entire day on his own. That left her to spend a day at Paperworld with the resident stationery grump. The resident stationery grump with whom she had just flirted, even though Susanne had no idea she was interested in women.

  Anja stepped into the stockroom and pulled the door closed behind her. Leaning her forehead against one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves, she let out a long groan. Why, oh why, was her life suddenly so complicated?

  Susanne steered her car down the steep ramp into her apartment building’s parking garage and parked in her spot. Her ankle boots tapped a tired staccato over the concrete as she headed toward the metal door that led to the staircase.

  As she reached out to open it, something brushed along her calves. Susanne jumped and glanced down.

  In the dim light, a pair of glowing green cat eyes looked up at her.

  “God! You scared me half to death! You might have nine lives, but I only have one. How the hell did you even get in here?”

  “Mrrreow,” the cat answered, whatever that was supposed to mean. It rubbed its head against Susanne’s shin.

  Dismayed, she stared at the tuft of hair left behind on her black slacks.

  Steps sounded behind her, and a woman she recognized as one of her neighbors walked toward her, carrying a car seat with a sleeping baby. “Oh, hello,” the woman said, more to the cat than to Susanne. “How did he get in here?”

  “I have no idea. It’s not mine,” Susanne hurried to add. She wasn’t sure if pets were allowed in the building, and she didn’t want to get in trouble on her first week.

  Her neighbor chuckled. “I know. He’s mine.” She switched the carrier to the other arm so she could shake Susanne’s hand. “Katrin Maier.”

  “Susanne Wolff. I just moved in last weekend.” She nodded down at the cat that still rubbed along her legs, ignoring its owner. “He’s actually the first neighbor I met. He, um, kinda invited himself to dinner.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry. Please don’t think we don’t feed him or are neglecting him. It’s just… He’s not a big fan of kids.”

  Susanne could empathize. It wasn’t that she disliked kids, but personally, she had no desire to have one. She gave the cat a sympathetic look.

  “Ever since I had Lena,” her neighbor cast a loving look at the sleeping baby, “Muesli tends to stay away.”

  “Muesli?”

  “Yeah. Because he—”

  “Loves muesli,” Susanne finished for her. “Yeah, I found that out the other night.”

  Her neighbor groaned. “Once again, I’m so sorry. I will gladly pay for any damage he might have caused.”

  “It’s fine. No harm done.”

  Katrin looked back and forth between Susanne and the cat. “He seems to like you. You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to adopt a cat, would you?”

  Susanne nearly started to stammer as her answer almost exploded from her. “Oh, no, no. I won’t be here for long, just until Easter. That wouldn’t be fair to poor Muesli.”

  Her neighbor laughed. “Relax. I was kidding. Kind of. I really feel bad about him no longer feeling comfortable in his home. But there’s not much I can do about it—other than giving him up so he can find a new home, as hard as that would be.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help you there. Maybe the tenant after me would like to adopt a cat.” Susanne pushed the heavy door open and held it for her neighbor to squeeze past her with the baby carrier. “Have a nice evening.” She tried to make a quick getaway before Katrin could involve her in more small talk about where she was from and why she wasn’t staying.

  Instead of following its owner, the cat ran after Susanne.

  “Muesli, no,” Katrin called. “You’re coming with me.”

  The baby started to cry. Her screams echoed through the staircase.

  Susanne wanted to cover her ears. After a day like today, this was the last thing she needed. The cat rushed ahead and waited for her in front of her apartment door.

  “Come here!” Katrin started after the cat, carrying the screaming baby.

  “Uh, you know what?”

  Katrin gave her a desperate smile. “You changed your mind about wanting to adopt him? Any chance you might want the baby too?” She held out the carrier with the crying infant.

  “No!” Susanne said vehemently, even knowing that the last bit about the baby had been a joke. “I’ll just put him into the backyard, and you can let him in once you’ve taken care of the baby.”

  “Oh, thank you. That would be great.”

  “No problem.” When Susanne unlocked the door, Muesli strode inside as if he had done so a thousand times before.

  Great. Now her neighbor probably thought she’d let the cat in before. She closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief when the baby’s screaming faded away.

  The cat went straight to the living room, jumped up on the recliner, and sniffed the coffee table, where he had found the muesli the previous evening.

  “Sorry, no muesli today.”

  He looked up as if recognizing his name. “Meow.”

  “Nope. Forget it. I’m not feeding you, or you’ll think this is your new home.”

  “Mrrrow?” He put his front paws on the armrest to be closer to eye level and looked up at her.

  Somehow it reminded her of the way Frau Lamm had looked at her yesterday, when she had confronted Susanne about her use of the word you instead of we and had told her they were in this together.

  “All right, all right. One bowl of milk—no muesli—and then you’re out of here, do you hear me?”

  The cat followed her to the kitchen.

  God, she was getting soft—and at a time when
she could least afford it.

  Chapter 6

  Shortly after nine on Friday morning, Anja zipped east on the bicycle path along the Dreisam River, ducking her head and squinting against the cool wind. God, she was ready for spring and warmer temperatures! She tried not to think of the fact that she might not have a job come spring.

  A gray heron that stood stock-still in the middle of the river seemed to be sick of winter too. The bird had fluffed its feathers and tucked its long neck back against its body as it peered into the water, probably looking for breakfast.

  She slowed so she wouldn’t disturb the heron, then sped up again. Being late to work was not an option today. Since Nobby had given his niece a key to the store a couple of days ago, she had beat them to work every day, so Anja left for work a little earlier too, hoping to get in before Susanne and prove her dedication.

  When the beautiful cast-iron railings of Mariensteg, a pedestrian bridge across the river, appeared in front of her, she pedaled harder to make it up the ramp.

  Just as she crossed the bridge, a raindrop hit her cheek. Within seconds, others followed, creating a pattern of dark spots on the asphalt. A cold droplet splashed onto her head through the air vents of her bicycle helmet and slowly trickled down her scalp. She cursed under her breath and tried to make it the last five hundred meters to the store without getting completely drenched.

  But she couldn’t outrun the rain, which was now coming down hard. By the time she chained her bike to a streetlamp, she was soaking wet. She fumbled for her key as she hurried across the street, half-blinded by the rain dripping into her eyes.

  At the door, she nearly collided with Susanne, who had arrived at the store at the same time. Unlike Anja, she had an umbrella, so her hair and her immaculate slacks, blouse, and coat were virtually dry.

  “Oh wow.” Susanne stared at her. “You’re wet. Uh, I mean…soaked by the rain.”

  Her stammering made Anja laugh despite feeling miserable. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you trust the weather report. Their cloudy-but-dry just broke loose all over me.”

  Susanne stretched out her arm to hold the umbrella over her while she unlocked the door with her other hand. Not that it was doing much good at this point, but Anja appreciated the gesture.

  Shivering with her wet hair, Anja stepped into the store after her and peeled off her gloves, her bicycle helmet, and her drenched coat, careful not to get any water onto their notebooks and paper products.

  Susanne averted her gaze to the puddle of water forming on the floor. “Uh, I’ll mop that up. Why don’t you go dry yourself off or something?”

  “Thanks.” Anja carried her wet coat to the back, hung it up to dry, and slipped into the small bathroom. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had to laugh. No wonder Susanne had stared at her. Her hair was plastered to her scalp, darkened to a brown color, and one soggy strand clung to her forehead. Then her gaze wandered lower. Her jeans clung to her thighs. The rain had soaked through her coat, so even her cotton shirt was damp and stuck to her body, outlining her bra and her nipples, which had hardened in the cold.

  Even though she was shivering, her cheeks flushed with heat. Oh God. Was that why Susanne had been staring at her? She snorted. Don’t flatter yourself. You look like a drowned rat. Nothing attractive about that. Now get moving and get to work. You wanted to impress her with your dedication to work, not with an impromptu wet-T-shirt contest.

  She dabbed a towel over her face and neck and towel-dried her hair. There wasn’t anything she could do about her wet clothes, other than to wait until they dried on their own. She tugged the damp shirt away from her breasts and stepped out of the bathroom.

  Susanne had already mopped up the floor and was now behind the cash register, studying an office supply catalog with great intensity, as if her life depended on learning every product by heart. She didn’t look up when Anja entered but gestured vaguely at a paper cup she’d placed at the corner of the counter. “Here.”

  Anja stepped closer and peered into the cup. Yum. Coffee with what looked like just the right amount of milk. “For me?”

  “Yeah. I thought you could use something to warm up.”

  Humming, Anja picked up the cup and cradled it in both hands to warm her fingers. “Thank you.” Who knew? Nobby’s ice-queen niece could actually be nice. She had braved the rain to get her a coffee from the little café across the street. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. It’s on me.”

  “Thank you.” Anja took her first sip and hummed as the perfect mix of coffee and milk hit her taste buds. “How did you know how I like my coffee?”

  Susanne shrugged, apparently not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I asked the woman behind the counter.”

  Clever. Anja nodded appreciatively.

  “Why don’t you go unpack that delivery we got yesterday?” Still not looking up from the catalog, Susanne nodded toward the stockroom. “I’ll keep an eye on the store until you’re dry or Uncle Norbert gets here.”

  “Sure.” She chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to scare the customers, right?”

  “Right.”

  When Frau Lamm’s footsteps faded away, Susanne finally lifted her head and stared after her, trying not to take in the way her damp shirt clung to her torso. Scare the customers. Right. She doubted anyone would be scared. Fear was definitely not what she was feeling at the moment. She used the catalog she’d hidden behind to fan her face.

  God, what are you—twelve? It wasn’t as if she’d never seen breasts, even though, admittedly, it had been a while since she’d seen them up close and personal. Frau Lamm wasn’t even that well-endowed. Even if she were, it shouldn’t matter since she was an employee and probably not interested in women.

  When the bell above the door jingled, she looked up, glad for the distraction.

  It wasn’t her uncle, as she had expected, but a customer—a woman of about forty. She closed her umbrella and slid it in the stand next to Susanne’s.

  “Good morning.” Susanne reminded herself to smile. Working with customers wasn’t her strong suit; she preferred the more matter-of-fact style of interacting with behind-the-scenes businesspeople. But if she put her mind to it, she knew she could be good at it. Helping out in her father’s many different businesses as a teenager had taught her that.

  “Good morning.” The woman looked around.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes.” The customer stepped closer. “I’m looking for a present for my son. He’s starting university next month.”

  How the hell had she gotten so old that a woman her age had a kid in university? Susanne tried not to grimace. “That’s great. Are you thinking of anything in particular? Maybe a leather-bound journal?” She pointed at the ones on display at the center island and tried to remember what Frau Lamm had said about them. “It has wonderful, creamy paper, so pens just glide over the pages like a dream.”

  The woman took one of the journals and studied it. The price tag didn’t make her blink, so maybe Frau Lamm had been right—some people were willing to pay that much for a notebook. “I’ll take it.”

  Yes! Susanne held back a triumphant grin. It looked as if she was getting the hang of selling stationery. “Good choice. How about a fountain pen to go with it? Writing instruments like these are pretty popular with young people at the moment, and we have a nice selection of high-quality ones.” She swept her hand toward the glass display along one wall.

  They walked over to it, and Susanne used the key her uncle had given her to unlock the case.

  The woman picked up the two-thousand-euro fountain pen and studied it from all angles.

  Susanne held her breath. If she could sell that one, it might keep Paper Love afloat for another month. What could she tell the customer about it to entice her to buy it? If Frau Lamm had told her any details about it, she couldn’t remember, so she said the only thing that had stuck in her mind. “This one is like the BMW of fountain pens.”
r />   The customer looked at her with an inscrutable expression, put the pen back down, and picked up another, less expensive one.

  Damn. Susanne fisted her hands behind her back.

  Finally, the woman seemed to settle on a fountain pen priced at two hundred euros.

  Still nothing to sneeze at, Susanne told herself.

  “Does this one take standard ink cartridges?” the customer asked.

  “I think so,” Susanne said, even though she had no idea.

  The customer lifted the pen. “May I?”

  “Go ahead.”

  The woman pulled off the cap and tried to unscrew the barrel, probably to see what kind of ink cartridge fit inside. “This doesn’t…” She grunted. “It doesn’t come off. Is it damaged?”

  “Let me try.” Susanne took the pen and tried to unscrew it, but nothing moved. Then she noticed that there was another part at the bottom of the pen that looked as if it might unscrew. Maybe that was the way to open the pen. She twisted it with deft movements. It shifted. A triumphant grin curved Susanne’s lips. She really was getting good at handling—

  Ink seeped from the pen’s nib and dripped onto her hand.

  Oh shit. Susanne put the pen and her inky fingers behind her back to hide the accident and gave the woman the friendliest smile she could muster. “Let me go ask my colleague. I specialize in paper, but she’s the fountain pen expert.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Gritting her teeth, Susanne rushed toward the back. God, she hated looking like an incompetent fool and having to ask for help. Too bad her uncle hadn’t come in yet, probably because the rain had delayed him. She would have preferred asking him for help rather than revealing to Frau Lamm—an employee—how clueless she really was.