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"I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry. These things happen. Such is life."
"I suppose," Rapp said, turning toward her. She smelled so good, he wanted to bury his face in her mane of shiny blond hair.
"She has no regrets. She led a very active life up until just a year ago. I am living here now and working at the bank. This way I can spend time with her ... while she still remembers me."
"That's nice."
"We spend our evenings going through letters and photos. There is so much family history that only she knows. My grandfather is a brilliant man, but he has a hard time remembering the names of his own grandchildren."
"Not yours. You can tell, he thinks the world of you."
"Well ... I work for him. I would hope he remembers my name."
As they entered the dining room, Rapp said, "Do you mind me asking what your grandmother whispered in your ear?"
Greta gave him a nervous laugh and rested her head against his shoulder before releasing his arm. "Maybe after a few drinks."
Rapp followed her like a puppy dog down the right side of the long table. There were chairs for twenty but they were only eight, so they clustered at the far end with Carl at the head of the table and Elsa to his left, followed by Greta and Rapp. Hurley was to Carl's right, followed by August, then Richards, and finally Robert.
The wine glasses were filled and conversations that had been going continued while new ones were started. Richards got Rapp's attention at one point and gave him a you-lucky-bastard shake of his head while darting his eyes at Greta. Rapp for his part struck up a rather boring conversation with Greta's uncle, who was sitting directly across from him. When Greta had finished her glass of wine Rapp leaned over and asked, "So can you tell me now."
Greta slid her hand over and patted his thigh. "One more glass, I think." She held up her glass and one of the servants filled it. "So how does an all-American boy such as yourself end up in this nasty line of work?"
"We get recruited like any other profession."
"So your background is military?"
Rapp shook his head and smiled. "I'm a fine arts major with a minor in poetry."
Greta's face lit up in surprise for a moment and then she caught herself. "You are teasing me."
"Yes, I am."
"Why?" she asked playfully.
"Because you know I can't talk about my past ... and I tend to tease people whom I like."
"So, you like me?" she said with an approving nod.
He didn't know why he decided to say it. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was his newfound confidence that he was finally making a difference, that he was part of something important, but he did nonetheless. Rapp leaned in close so only she could hear and said, "I don't know what it is about you, but I've had a hard time thinking of anything but you, since we met this afternoon."
She smiled at him, her cheeks flushing just a touch. "You are different. Not so guarded."
Rapp laughed. "I'm probably the most guarded person you'll ever meet. Just not with you, for some reason."
"Is that good or bad?"
"I think it's good. At least it feels good." Rapp looked into her blue eyes. She was smiling back at him. He was about to really open up when Herr Ohlmeyer tapped his wine glass with his knife several times and stood. Ohlmeyer raised his glass and started giving a toast. Rapp turned his chair slightly so he could face him, and his right knee moved to within a few inches of Greta's thigh. Then her left hand slowly slid over from her lap and found his k
nee. From that moment on, Rapp didn't register a single word that came out of Herr Ohlmeyer's mouth. Nor did he hear anything Hurley said when he rose to make his toast.
The main course arrived. It was a braised beef of some sort, served with mushrooms, potatoes, gravy, and vegetables, the kind of meat-and-potatoes meal Rapp loved. There was only one problem. He had just stuffed a forkful of beef in his mouth when Greta leaned over and told him what her grandmother had whispered in her ear.
"My granny thinks you are extremely attractive. She told me I should sleep with you."
Rapp would have been fine if it had ended there, but it didn't. As he tried to swallow the meat Greta leaned over once more.
