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“Are you sure?” asks Horst in alarm. “You’d better e-mail me the contract, and I’ll read it over for you.”
It will hardly be necessary; after all, I had also taken a seminar on labor law at college. But four eyes see more than two. “Thank you very much, Horst,” I say. “That’s sweet of you.” I think about it for a moment, because something has just come to mind. “But while we’re on the subject: Could you do me one more favor?”
“So, let Mareike say one more time that I’m old news.” Horst’s exhilarated snort comes from the phone. “My expertise is still in demand! So, go for it: what can I help you with?”
“In your specialty…” I smirk. It’s really fortunate that Mareike’s partner still has so many connections in the real estate industry. “Namely, one of my clients is looking for a suitable property.”
“And of course, the first thing you thought of was good old Horst.” He lets out a soft gurgling laugh. “Yup! You can always rely onBrinkhorst Estates! What does your client have in mind?” The sounds on the other end suggest that Horst is getting his notepad and pen ready.
Where to start?“He needs a combined residential and commercial building in Mosbach. It should be conveniently located—preferably in the pedestrian zone. So enough walk-in customers will become aware of his tattoo studio.”
“Tattoos?” Horst spits out the word like a sip of sour milk.
“Tattoo?” echoes Mareike from the off. “God bewaar me![19]Hand me my niece right now, Horst! Has she already made such amisvorming[20]?”
Oh my God! As if I were planning to get a tattoo.And anyway… When I think about Philipp’s appearance, there is no question of him beingdisfiguredin any way by his tattoos.
“Not her,” I hear Horst’s reassurance. “It’s just her client who…”
“Give me!” orders Mareike again, then I already have her by the ear. “Who is this customer?”
Her tone of voice abruptly takes me back to my teenage years, when she interrogated me in the same way. “Philipp…” I promptly let slip out. “It’s Mr. Sandtmann,” I correct myself. “And he has booked the revision of his business plan with me.”
“And this includes finding a house?” inquires Mareike investigatively. “Since when does the Chamber of Commerce and Industries offer brokerage services?”
“Not at all,” I reassure her, “It just offers itself. We both know how much Horst enjoys these little tasks.”
“Don’t deflect!” Mareike shifts to being stubborn. “I wanted to know what kind of customer this is! So that you’re cherry-picking like that for him!” Her probing inquiry hits my sore spot.
What exactly is Philipp? Apart from the fact thinking of him is the best cure for low blood pressure…I roll my eyes at my mega-awkward self-awareness. I definitely shouldn’t confess this to my aunt. Then I search for the thread I lost while I was musing. “He’s nice. Polite. Courteous. We just developed a pleasant acquaintance during the consultation.”
“An acquaintance. So-so.” Mareike snorts. “Listen to me carefully, Celine! I can sense them quite accurately over distance and over electromagnetic waves: The little crawlers nestled in your belly. How they scratch at silken eggshells from the inside. Just waiting to burst out and…”
I have to stifle a laugh. What sounds like a short version ofAlienwith Sigourney Weaver is Aunt Mareike’s way of paraphrasing butterflies in one’s stomach. “Nonsense.”
“Onzin?[21]“ Mareike makes an indignant sound. “I know you far too well! Listen to me carefully, Celine! Only outlaws wear tattoos! Don’t be blinded by danger’s gravitation in appetizing packaging!”
Oha.I find myself scratching behind my ear in embarrassment.How does Aunt Mareike come up with such an accurate description of Philipp? She can’t know him, can she? Or does she have any experience of her own in this respect?
“You should be happy to have found such a faithful, hardworking, and financially independent life partner in Kevin. Satisfy your hunger for sexy guys with those romance novels you love to read. But keep your hands off adventurers!”
“As if I wanted to start anything with Philipp,” I assert. In the back of my mind, I push the image of the play of his muscles under paintbox-colored skin to the very last corner. “He’s nice, I’m friendly—and your Horst is having a blast looking for offers. That’s all there is to it.”
“There is nothing more?” my aunt doubts, full of suspicion.
“No.” I put all my determination into the word. “That’s all there is.”
“Good,” she answers.
Then we say goodbye rather quickly.
15. To Throw Somebody to theWhoppers
Philipp
Using a piece of crepe paper, I wipe the blood and paint from the client’s chest. I scan every angle of the areas of color I have placed between the outlines. Here and there, half a square millimeter of paint is still missing, which I immediately fill in. Once again, I remove the leaked liquid. Then I give the customer a nod.
“Have you finished?” Lying down, he raises his head and tries to peer down at his chest. Unsuccessfully, of course.
