I glanced anxiously out the third story window of the small, claustrophobic office. Sunlight streamed in graciously through the glass walls of the outside of the building, taunting me with its relaxing warmth. I sighed gently, my mind wandering far from the technical drawings laid unpredictably around me. I often found myself occupying this rigid room more than I liked.
Months ago, I had been eager to take a new position in Germany, but the adjustment to the new working style had been nonetheless difficult. Running my hands over my scalp, I worriedly adjusted my russet brown hair into a smoother ponytail. Once again, I inwardly admitted that my current duty lay with those haphazardly spread drawings, circling me like vultures over a kill. I gingerly picked up the nearest one, before scooping up my pencil with a flourish. My red nails contrasted sharply with the solid white paper and deep grey lines of the sketch.
Just as I was hurriedly setting pencil to paper, a knock at the door startled me away from my thoughts.
"Come in," I automatically responded, my head still bent with intent focus on my task at hand.
"Hallo," a tall man stepped into my office, a small smile on his face. He was tall - but then again, who wasn't tall around me? - and his form held all the confidence of a man in charge.
"I don't suppose you can spare a moment for your boss, Frau Maroz?" He inquired, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. As usual, he had donned his trademark red fedora, which contrasted sharply with his yellow tie.
"Of course, come in." I beckoned nervously with one hand, my drawing now entirely forgotten in his presence.
"No need for such formalities, I was just wondering if you could stay late with Wolfgang tonight, to finish the plans for the fourth floor of the new Potsdam building. It won't be any trouble, will it?" His tone betrayed that he was as much asking me to stay late as he was asking me my opinion on his somewhat alarming choice in wardrobe. Never one to rock the boat, I agreed politely, at least surmising that I'd be able to spend the later evening home, relaxing with a nice bottle of wine.
By the time six pm had rolled around, all of our coworkers had gone home. The setting sun seared its way through the futuristic glass in the meeting room, causing me to sweat profusely due to the unrelenting heat. Wolfgang, too, was not immune to the warmth, choosing to roll up his shirt sleeves while I opted to undo a button from my blouse and remove my oppressive heels.
I leaned over the drawing table, lost in correcting angles and figures until they, as the Germans often said, were perfekt. I didn't notice that the sun had set until Wolfgang suddenly looked up from his drawing and cleared his throat loudly. Darkness had long since enshrouded us, bent over as we were in front of our paper masters.
"Oh my god, it's nearly 9pm!" I exclaimed, glancing furtively at my watch. "And we aren't even close to being finished yet."
Sighing loudly, I ran my hands through my long-since released hair. Thanks to the heat and my sweat, it had previously decided it wanted to fly wildly all over my face, and I saw no point in beating it into submission.
"I'm sorry Wolfgang, but I've got to get home soon. My cat will need water with all this repressive heat." I explained. "I'd be happy to meet you later, or even early tomorrow morning, if you'd prefer."
"If it is okay with you, Marni, I will walk with you to your apartment. I would offer to meet in the morning, but I have a doctor's appointment then. Perhaps we can work on the drawings at your home?" He offered, his smile a radiant white in the dim room.
Who was I to refuse? The customs of the Germans were starkly different compared to my more rigid Canadian upbringing. Besides, I was slightly worried about both the happiness of my cat and our ability to finish the job before the morning.
Stepping out into the dark street, I timidly led the way to my apartment, my heels clicking gently on the cobblestone. Out here, in the darkened streets, I saw Wolfgang as I'd never seen him before. It can be hard to get to know someone when all you see of them is in a small, albeit open, office building.
He carried himself with a sort of grace that I admired, his shoes stepping in an even rhythm that sounded out of pace with my uneven gait. I was never one to be graceful, and my awkward gait betrayed this as my shoes clicked and slapped against the still hot cobblestones.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed that his hair was dark, perhaps black, and his radiant green eyes glowed everytime we passed under a streetlamp.
I'll be honest, I was not immune to his charms. He practically towered over my diminutive 4'11 frame, but I never felt uneasy with him. On the contrary, I found myself feeling quite safe as we walked and chatted about our corporate lives. I soon began laughing at his jokes, and appreciating his wit. In return, I noticed him casting furtive glances towards my lips, all while asking me countless questions about growing up in Canada.
Finally, I made it to my apartment. Digging through my bag, I located my keys. He watched me with a strange fascination, his eyes glowing with undisguised mirth.
"Is something funny, Wolfie?" I questioned as I turned the key in the lock, not bothering to turn around.
"Oh, don't call me that. The last person that called me that got into trouble." He chuckled, stepping into the foyer after me.
"Ah, well remind me to be more careful next time." I curtly replied, stepping out of my heels and dashing into the kitchen to get a drink of water for both my guest and my feline friend.
He soon followed, his socked footsteps even on the hardwood floor. As I exited the kitchen, I saw his face silhouetted beautifully against the cracks of light that glowed through my window, revealing a 5 o'clock shadow and a wonderful jaw line. I found myself gasping involuntarily, one glass of water poised in each hand.
He glanced quickly over at me, approaching quickly. "Is everything alright, Marni?" He questioned gently. His normal poised expression gave way to concern, his eyebrows scrunching together in a humorously tender way. Suddenly nervous, I thrust the water glass out to him as though I was pushing him away.
"Here, in case you're thirsty," I quickly explained, before taking eager gulps of my own glass.
He smiled that easy smile of his. "Of course," he replied, taking the water from my hand. Our fingers brushed gently, and I was thankful I was already drinking otherwise I may have gasped again.
"Well, where should we draw?" He asked, spreading his arms wide, as though the entire room was available to us. My apartment was clean, but not tidy, so to speak. My violin sat poised gently against a chair, while more architectural drawings lay strewn across the coffee table. Even the couch was uninhabitable, as my refreshed cat, Gulliver, now perched obstinately on one end.
I quickly pushed my drawings out the way, but not before one floated gently to the floor. Gulliver hissed at my rapid dash to pick it up, but Wolfgang was faster. He picked it up with deft fingers, holding it up to his face as he peered curiously at it. I nervously fiddled with my hands, while noticing his body - yet again. He was my coworker, and I knew I shouldn't feel the way I do around him - but here I was, mooning over him like I was seventeen again.
