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Not All Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks

Page 11

by Rebecca Cohen


  “So are you.” Mark slid into the booth opposite Steffen. “I must say, this place isn’t what I expected.”

  “It is, how you say, a little rough and ready, but everyone who grew up in Basel has been in here. It’s a rite of passage, I suppose. And from time to time, I like to come by. Can I get you a drink?”

  The shelves behind the bar were crammed with bottles of spirits, not all of them ones Mark recognized, and there was beer on draft. Given all the conflicting emotions he was facing, his impending departure, and his own stupidity for falling for Steffen, Mark wanted something stronger than a beer. To his surprise he spotted a familiar bottle.

  “Talisker, please. No ice, no water.”

  “You keep on surprising me,” Steffen said. “I would never have taken you for a whisky man, certainly not one who would drink Talisker neat.”

  Mark gave him a thin smile. “I know you think I’m an open book, but there are many things you don’t know about me.”

  “It was not meant as an insult. I would like to know everything about you.”

  Mark furrowed his brow at the remark as Steffen went to the bar, confused at Steffen’s meaning. With no one else waiting, Steffen was served immediately, and Mark saw Steffen choose another whisky, Laphroaig, one too peaty for Mark’s tastes.

  “Did your parents enjoy their celebration?” asked Steffen as he sat back down.

  “They said they did, although my mum didn’t like the hangover she woke up to this morning. She was still feeling rough when I spoke to them before my flight left.”

  “Were you glad to be back in England?”

  Mark toyed with his whisky glass, not sure exactly how to answer, the conversation he’d had with Laura still at the forefront of his mind. Maybe he could be a bit cagey, gauge Steffen’s body language and redirect the conversation if needed. “Not really.”

  “No?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve come to like it here, and going to Reading this weekend kinda left me feeling like I don’t really want to leave Basel. Everything seemed to annoy me, and I know it probably wasn’t really that much worse, but I… well, I’m sure I’ll get over it once I’m back for good.”

  Steffen licked his lips, and Mark had never seen him look so uneasy. “You are not looking forward to leaving?”

  “No.”

  Steffen reached over, and Mark was surprised when Steffen took his hand and threaded their fingers together. “I meant it when I said I missed you this weekend. I spent Saturday reading a book, even turned down dinner at the Cheval Blanc—it would have been wasted on me and my foul mood.”

  Mark squeezed Steffen’s fingers, happy to hear the words. “I missed you too.”

  “Listen, Mark, I need to be honest with you. I did not expect to have this conversation here.”

  This was it, and now he would just have to face what Steffen had to say. Whether he liked it or not. “Look. I understand. Don’t worry, I’m not asking anything more from you. Yes, you are one of the reasons why Basel is so enticing, but I’ll be gone in a few weeks, and if this makes you uncomfortable I can back off.”

  “What? No! The last thing I want is for you to back off. I spent Saturday brooding because all I could think of was that far too soon you would be gone, and I would have lost my chance of being happy with you.”

  Mark couldn’t believe his ears. He needed to be sure. “What was it you needed to be honest about?”

  Steffen shook his head. “Not here.” He knocked back his whisky. “Will you come to mine?”

  There was no way Mark would say no. “Let’s go.”

  “Let me get the bill.”

  Mark finished his drink, like Steffen gulping it down in one go, but the fire of the whisky made him splutter and his eyes water. His mind was already racing with possibilities, and the hit of the whisky made him even more light-headed.

  Steffen was tucking away his wallet by the time Mark struggled to his feet. They headed out, Mark automatically turning toward the tram stop around the corner. Steffen caught his arm. “We will get a cab.”

  A short line of taxis were waiting across the road, the other side of the tram tracks. The sooner they got back to Steffen’s, the better, and the taxi driver looked happy to be getting a fare during what must be a quiet period. Steffen rattled off his address and instructions in German. They didn’t speak during the short journey, but Steffen had taken his hand again, and he looked much less worried. Despite not talking, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, and Mark was beginning to hope.

  He’d never seen Steffen fumble with his keys, but once outside his apartment block, Steffen was suddenly all fingers and thumbs. Mark reached out and took them. “I don’t know what’s got you so worried, but whatever you have to say to me won’t change the fact that the last few weeks have been wonderful.”

  Steffen kissed him, and Mark smiled and stepped away to unlock the front door. They didn’t hang around, and a few minutes later were in Steffen’s apartment. Mark half expected to be pressed against the door and willingly subjected to a bruising kiss, but he wasn’t disappointed at the gentle press of lips and Steffen grabbing his hand, tugging him into the living room. Steffen must’ve been distracted, because he hadn’t made him take off his shoes.

  Steffen threw his coat over the nearest chair, and Mark copied him. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I do not want you to leave Basel.”

  “I….”

  The next thing he knew, Mark was pulled into Steffen’s arms. “We might have started this as casual, but I have never felt this way about anyone. I cannot lose you.” He puffed out his cheeks. “I thought it was perfect. You would be somewhere between a long-term partner who I did not think I was ready for yet after Peter, and the one-night stands I was beginning to tire of, but yet still casual enough that I could convince myself I would not be upset when you returned to England. I miscalculated.”

  “You make me sound like a maths puzzle you got the working out wrong for.” Mark was joking, but only because he couldn’t formulate the words right.

  Steffen pressed their foreheads together. “I thought when I first met you in Café Des Arts that you were good-looking and fun, but then we turned out to be so well suited.”

  At last Mark found his words. “You have no idea, Steffen. I’ve been telling myself time and time again not to get attached, to not be stupid, that you’d never promised me more. But I couldn’t stop myself from wanting. Hoping.”

  “We are both fools. I tried to stay away. Near the beginning, that week when I saw you only once, that was my attempt to give myself some distance, but when you were there in Noohn, I knew I could not stay away.”

  Mark slid his hand up the side of Steffen’s neck, his fingers carding the hair at the base of his skull. “I have never wanted someone more.”

  “I love you.”

  They were words Mark had never thought he’d hear Steffen say. Even in his fantasies he’d not allowed himself to go that far. He crashed his lips to Steffen’s, his kiss demanding, and he was elated as Steffen returned it with equal passion.

  Steffen steered them to the bedroom, shedding their clothes as they went, not caring where they might end up. Mark hit the bed half-naked, kicking away his shoes and jeans, and Steffen removing his socks and boxers, throwing them over his shoulder with glee, to leave Mark gloriously naked.

  He would never tire of looking at Steffen’s toned, naked body. The smattering of light hair across his chest and stomach, leading to his cock standing proud, made Mark’s fingers twitch to get his hands on Steffen’s skin.

  Steffen joined him on the bed, settling between Mark’s thighs, the weight of Steffen on top of him, their cocks rubbing lazily against each other as they exchanged deep, languid kisses. Mark wanted Steffen desperately. They could spend the rest of the night in slow, deliberate lovemaking, but now he wanted Steffen inside him.

  “God, I love you. I need you to fuck me.”

  “My pleasure will be yours.”

&nbs
p; Steffen collected lube and a condom from the bedside table, and he wasted no time working lube-coated fingers inside Mark. Mark canted his hips to help Steffen get the angle right, to help work him open, ready for Steffen’s cock. “Enough,” Mark gasped. “Fucking get on with it.”

  “Oh, you are so demanding. I should make you wait, tease you until you are begging. But I need to be inside you, fuck you deep, and claim you fully.” The last few words came out as a growl. Mark had never seen Steffen so possessive, and he bloody loved it.

  Steffen pushed inside, Mark groaning deeply at the intrusion. He reveled in the fullness and pressure, and moved his hips to get Steffen as deep inside him as possible. Steffen began to move, his thrusts getting faster, setting a magnificent pace, Mark moaning and begging. He clung on, enjoying the way Steffen claimed him, consumed him, sending him flying and making every fiber of his body sing.

  Steffen knew how to touch him, how to pleasure him in a way no other man had come close to. Steffen’s experience was one thing, and the sex had been incredible, but now there was a connection Mark never thought he’d experience. Having Steffen declare his love was the hottest fucking thing he’d heard in his life, and the way their bodies writhed together made his heart fill to bursting.

  The telltale tingle behind his balls began to radiate out in delicious waves as he headed toward his climax. Steffen was close, Mark could tell from his blissed expression, and Mark let himself fall willingly into his own orgasm, the rush of heat and desire almost overwhelming. They collapsed together, panting and wearing the same dopey smile.

  Steffen disposed of the condom, and Mark wiped away the mess from his stomach, with plans for them to make use of Steffen’s huge bathtub later to get messy again and a proper cleanup, but for now he gravitated straight back to Steffen, resting his head on his chest. Curled up with Steffen stroking his hair, he had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t purring like a contented big cat.

  “I think we can safely say we are on the same page,” Steffen said, tracing his fingers down Mark’s spine.

  “Doesn’t change the fact I’m due to go back to the UK in a month.” Mark cuddled closer.

  “I know, but we will find a way. If I interpreted you correctly earlier, you are willing to stay here in Basel?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “At least we do not have to compromise on where we live.”

  Mark knew this was what he wanted, but he also knew that some people, his mum the main one, would think he was rushing into things. “You don’t think we’re moving too fast?”

  “Do you? You are contemplating moving countries permanently. It’s you who will have to adjust to the biggest change.”

  “All I know is that I want to be with you, but some people will think me daft for doing so.”

  “Better to be daft and happy than sensible and full of regrets.” Steffen pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Moving here is a big deal, but it is not the other side of the planet. And what if the worst happens, which I do not believe it will, and we separate? The world will not stop spinning. You will have a job here and the right to remain, or return to the UK having been brave enough to take a chance.”

  Mark was relieved to hear Steffen’s thoughts echoing his own. “Now all I need is a job.”

  “I admit I have been thinking about this, hoping I might be able to persuade you to stay with me. Do you see any chance Helvetica would let you work permanently out of their Basel offices?”

  “I don’t know. Things are going well, but I’m here for a specific project, and while Basel is the head office, my job’s in Reading. I could speak to Kaz in the morning and see what she says.” Somehow he didn’t think it likely they’d let him transfer. Budgets were always tight, and he hadn’t heard talk in the office about recruiting into the Basel office in his field. Swiss salaries were higher than their British equivalents, and even with his living allowance, he would bet he was being paid less than his Swiss colleagues.

  “If they do not see the value of you remaining in Basel, there are plenty of other companies. Two of the world’s biggest pharmaceutical companies are here.”

  “I know nothing about pharma. I doubt I’d have much luck there,” Mark scoffed.

  “I have heard you are a talented project manager, and there will be many nonspecific technical roles you can do—I am sure of it. I know enough people in the right places to ask if there are open positions if needs be.”

  Mark levered himself to look at Steffen. “I don’t want you pulling strings for me. The last thing we should do is start this relationship with me in your debt. Okay?”

  “I promise it would only be a matter of fact-finding.” Steffen cupped his jaw. “If you were the type of man who wanted me to pull strings, we would not be in this situation. Notice I have not even tried to persuade you to move here and let me support you.”

  “No fucking chance.”

  “Exactly.” Steffen smiled. “To be blunt, immigration is so much easier if you have a job here. Since you are not a multimillionaire, not even my connections can make Swiss bureaucracy disappear.”

  Mark leaned over and kissed him. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Of that, I am certain.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  MARK MUST have checked Kaz’s calendar twenty times to make sure she was free and he wouldn’t be disturbing her. It had taken until midafternoon to find a time when he could talk to her uninterrupted. Being the boss, Kaz was the only one with the luxury of her own office, the rest of them having to make do with sharing one large open space and a couple of meeting rooms that were strictly for client-related matters.

  Her door was open, and she had her head down, typing furiously. Mark cleared his throat to get her attention, hoping she had meant it when she’d said he could come to her at any time if he had any questions or problems during his stint in Basel. Her head jerked up, and she looked slightly frantic for a moment. “Yes?”

  She had a brusque manner, but he liked that he knew where he stood with her, unlike his first UK boss, who had been nice on the outside but willing to sacrifice anyone to save his own arse or get ahead. “Do you have a moment?”

  “One minute, Mark. Let me finish this email. Come in and shut the door.” He did as he was told and sat in the chair opposite her.

  She returned to her frantic typing. Whoever the recipient of that email, Mark guessed they were getting a very stern piece of Kaz’s mind. He caught a muttered Dummkopf as she finished with a final stab to her keyboard.

  “Sorry, Mark. I do wonder if people read their emails before replying.” She smiled. “Is there anything wrong?”

  “Not wrong exactly.” He’d discussed with Steffen what to say, how best to approach a potential move, and whether he should be open about his motives. “As you know, I only have a few more weeks left before I go back to the UK, and I hope you’ve been happy with how everything has gone and the work I’ve done.”

  “You have done, and are still doing, a great job. I do not think we would have made such good progress with the Merri Project if you and Carl had not been here.”

  He didn’t take compliments well, and he had to try hard not to get flustered. “I’m really glad to hear it, because I’m wondering if there is the possibility of continuing to work in Basel.”

  She looked a bit confused. “You would like to extend your stay?”

  “Not extend as such. I really like it here. The buzz of being at head office, the range of projects is wider here, from what I’ve seen, and I have become very fond of Basel itself.”

  “Ah.” She sat back in her chair. “You mean a permanent transfer.”

  “Yes.”

  “Mark, if it were only my decision, I would take you tomorrow. Even if the UK office would kill me—I had to argue to have you here as long as we did. But I do not currently have an open position for you to fill.”

  At least she hadn’t laughed in his face and told him never to darken her door again. “I see
.”

  “But let me talk to the management team. There are plans to expand in the coming months. You understand I cannot give you details, and I expect this information to remain confidential, but maybe there might be something.”

  Mark’s heart leapt into his throat. He knew for now it was all ifs and maybes and nothing concrete, but it would make it all so much easier if he could stay with the company. “I would really appreciate it. But I have to ask, do you have a timeline?”

  She laughed. “Spoken like a true project manager. But I have a counterquestion. Have you a personal deadline we should be aware of?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “No offer from another company?” she prompted.

  “Oh no, I came here first. I haven’t looked elsewhere.”

  She peered over her glasses. “But it is a matter of time, right? You really want to be in Basel.”

  Boy, she was shrewd, and for a moment she reminded him of his sister. “I suppose you could say that being in Basel will be a major factor driving my next career decision.”

  “I understand. I am not Swiss. I came to Basel twenty-five years ago from Frankfurt after university for a job, met a Swiss man, and never left.” She smiled fondly. Her openness was refreshing, so rarely did anyone here speak about their personal situations, especially not with a relative stranger such as himself.

  “I suppose you could say I’m in a similar situation. It happened faster than I was expecting, but I know moving here would be the right thing.”

  “I am sure she is worth it.”

  “He is.”

  She didn’t flicker at his correction. “As I said, Mark, you are good at your job. The clients like you, your colleagues both here and in the UK respect your judgment, and I have been in this job long enough to do what I can to keep the good guys. I have a management team meeting next week. I can at least give you some idea of if it is feasible before you leave.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  Her iPhone chimed. “Sorry, Mark, emergency meeting. One of the IT architects has caused some… issues. Thankfully Steffen Gryse has agreed to come in and see what is possible, so I need to go hold hands and knock heads together.”

 

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