Made for Me (Danielle Grant Book 1)

by Sarah Gerdes

  “I drink this now?” she asked him.

  “No, wait a moment.” Soon, another glass was set by the first. This one tall and thin, but also white.

  “Another?”

  “You said you prefer sweet drinks and things that are creamy. Oh, I forgot to ask, cold or hot?”

  Danielle said she adored Mexican hot chocolate, which was impossible to find in Zurich. Lars asked for the bartender again, and after a short exchange, he told Danielle she was in luck.

  “Fortunately a lot of international tourists have your same preferences.”

  When six different drinks were in front of her, Lars told her it was time to start experimenting. “Is this going to give me a headache or make me vomit?” she asked bluntly. She didn’t want to be a lurching, puking woman at the end of the night.

  Lars laughed. “No. I’m going on the probability that you have a lot of lean muscle mass, that the alcohol will be easily absorbed and that you will drink enough water which will negate any unpleasant after effects. So the result is that you will appreciate the taste and enjoy yourself. But the key here is that you are tasting, not drinking down the whole glass.”

  “So you are suggesting I just take a sip?”

  He nodded. “It would be the prudent thing to do, even for someone who is used to alcohol. It does take some time to build up tolerance, and any one of these might knock you flat.”

  She stared at the glasses, the image of her parents flashing in front of her. This was one-time, not a pattern or a habit. She glanced up at Lars, ready to have this first experience with him, knowing it was going to be meaningful.

  “What’s that look mean?” he asked as he scanned her face. “I haven’t seen it before.”

  “As we get older, new experiences are fewer, you know?” she said, looking back up at him, not really expecting a response. She held his eyes for a moment longer than she should have. “Okay,” she said, settling herself. “I start with this one?” It smelled good, like hazelnut.

  Lars smiled. “Just a sip,” he cautioned.

  “This is good,” she exclaimed, her shock causing Lars to laugh, a deeper, chest-originating sound which continued as she drank the rest in single gulp. “And it was only two swallows.”

  “For twenty francs.”

  Danielle was appalled. “That’s robbery.” She heard Lars’ name being called and waved him away. “I can take care of myself.”

  Lars gave her a cautionary warning. “Go slow. You weren’t supposed to drink that whole thing. Remember, it won’t hit you right away.”

  She was rather pleased with her first experience with alcohol. It had been the forbidden fruit her entire life, and now she discovered it tasted pretty good. Like liquid dessert.

  The bartender, an older, stately gentleman, suggested she clear her palette, handing her a sparkling water. She thanked him and took a drink.

  On to the next one. It smelled like vanilla. She paused to glance around the room, thinking of what she was going to tell her father about the mountain, the gondola and the restaurant with a view of four famous peaks in the Alps. Once again, she felt like she was living a surreal life and had a moment of gratitude.

  She tasted drink number two, rolling the creamy vanilla on her tongue. She wasn’t sure what actual alcohol was supposed to taste like, but she did know that this was delicious. She was half-way through the glass when she glimpsed Andre to her left. He was speaking with Benny. Andre had his hand on the blond’s lower back, moving his hand up and down. Danielle turned away. He probably knew she’d look over and see him. Her eyes searched the room, spotting Lars, who was engaged in a conversation with a middle-aged couple.

  In that moment, the distinction between the two men was stark. Andre’s passion, looks and approach were sexy to be sure. But Lars, with his sophisticated demeanor, gave him an urbane flair she found compelling in a way she’d never encountered.

  She couldn’t help looking back at Andre one last time and was…sickened. He now had his arm draped around the blond’s shoulders.

  That was it. He was getting back at her now, and it was unbelievably juvenile. Danielle touched the cold glass before her, determined to continue exploring this new world without the encumbrance of her recent heartbreak.

  Such a depressing word, she thought, finishing off the second drink. The third smelled nasty, and she couldn’t even taste it, pushing it away. The fourth was a clear, cold drink that sparkled in her mouth, tasting like raspberry. She loved that and finished it off in four sips. The fifth was a short glass fill with a dark, thick tasting chocolate that was so rich she drank a half a glass of water immediately afterward. Danielle felt slightly lightheaded, but figured it would dissipate with the water. The sixth drink smelled gross and she sat it aside.

  Seeing her push two drinks away, the bartender told her he’d make a different one. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of dark liquid in a cup.

  “I think you will like this,” the bartender told her. He tipped a bottle of golden-colored liquid in it. “Tequila,” he said, before lighting it on fire. He then poured a thick dollop of cream on the top, which doused it. “Mexican coffee,” he announced.

  She enjoyed the aroma of the exotic mixture just before she tasted it. The bartender caught her eye and she nodded. It was divine. Her favorite yet.

  Johanne and Dario joined her, each taking two shots of tequila before Dario announced he was ready to go dancing.

  “In two hours,” Danielle remarked. That was the time it would take the train to get back to Zurich.

  “Oh, we drove,” Johanne said with a smile.

  “See you in the cages,” she said with a wink to them both.

  What happened next was a like a slow motion accident. Andre came up to the bar with his date, glanced over at her, looked down at the empty glasses and glowered. It occurred to her that he’d not even wasted the energy of shaking his head. Just given her a single look of disdain.

  She ignored him. “Can I have one more of these?” she asked the bartender, tapping the rim of the empty cup. When he returned with her drink, she stood, the fresh cup in hand, and felt the blood immediately and forcefully rush to her head. Must be the collateral damage of seeing her wonderful, striking, former Swiss boyfriend only several feet away from her. Emphasis on former, she repeated. And next time don’t stand so quickly.

  She walked steadily towards the piano, enjoying the floating sensation that allowed her previous thoughts of worry and concern to remain back at the bar counter. Benny smiled a greeting, and she offered him a drink of Mexican coffee.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” His eyes roved over the rim of the cup. “You have a visitor,” he said under his breath.

  “Danielle, what are you doing?” Andre’s tone wavered between anger and concern.

  Danielle smiled placidly. “Sitting here next to Benny,” she replied, giving the piano man a smile. “Are you going to make a song request? I was thinking Blue Moon is rather appropriate.” She smiled disingenuously and Benny shook his head, playing a riff of the melody.

  “Danielle, I may never see or speak to you again, but as your business partner, I’m just asking you—suggesting you be careful.”

  Danielle scrunched her face. “Of what? Are you afraid your girlfriend is going to come over here and clock me?” Glancing over Andre’s shoulder she saw that sure enough, she was on the receiving end of a death-by-glare look.

  “No. It’s because you’ve told me that alcohol is not healthy for you and you don’t drink it. And no, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Danielle took another sip of her drink. “I’m glad I showed you how to lose your inhibitions with women in public. So much for the Siamese twins separated at birth thing.”

  She was pleased to see Andre’s startled response, and Danielle glanced about the room. The crowd had thinned dramatically.

  “Danielle, I’m just suggesting caution.”

  “In consideration of the business acquaintances we are, I�
�ll take your words under ad-vise-ment,” she said. “If you have anything else to say that’s falls in the advice category, you should go speak with Lars. He’s right over there,” she said, lifting her cup to where Lars stood on the other side of the room. Her managing director was looking directly at her, evidently assessing her interaction with Andre. Danielle gave him an easy smile before turning back to Andre.

  “Goodbye,” she said. And then she pointedly ignored him, giving Benny her full attention. “I’m all about Ella Fitzgerald, but I’m thinking I’ve been suitably inspired for the modern version.”

  Benny scooted over, making more room for Danielle, and soon the two were singing a duet of Blue Moon. Half-way into the first chorus, Danielle put her own fingers to the piano and played an octave higher with a complimentary melody. She was so enjoying herself, she didn’t notice Andre watching her in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar, nor did she stop to consider the irony of the words she sang.

  “You knew just what I was there for/you heard me saying a prayer for/someone I could really care for/ and then there suddenly appeared before me/the only one my arms will ever hold….”

  Benny joined in with his throaty voice, and she switched from soprano to contralto for effect… “Now I’m no longer alone/without a dream in my heart/without a love of my own.”

  She saw Andre escort his date out of the room, and in her peripheral vision she noted Lars quietly watching her from near the window. When they finished the song, the few who were left in the room clapped and Danielle took the last few drinks of her coffee, singing with Benny until the lights went up.

  “We shut it down,” she said triumphantly.

  “Be safe,” he told her.

  “You’re not coming on the train?”

  “No. I’m playing here again tomorrow night so I’m staying down at the lodge.” It was too bad. She would have liked company on the ride back.

  Danielle stood slowly this time, getting a head rush far greater than the one she’d had previously. But she really liked it. Warmth was in every part of her body. Her senses were amplified, the regret and sadness she’d felt for Andre turning into irritation and her own version of disdain. How he could even bring that woman to this event? It was just rude. She regretted the hours spent on ‘if’s’ and ‘what’s’ when she could have been focused on something far more interesting. At that moment she saw Lars and blushed.

  No. Not Lars, a warning voice whispered. And why not? She bounced back. I don’t have a contract against dating co-workers and he explicitly stated he didn’t care who I slept with from the office as long as my numbers weren’t affected.

  Danielle walked with far more care then she’d ever used to the ladies room. Her movements now seemed to be in slow motion. Standing in front of the mirror, she saw her cheeks were slightly flushed, but it only enhanced her appearance. She applied a coat of clear gloss, struggling to replace the lid, wondering how her motor skills could have taken such a dive with only a few drinks.

  Well, Lars had told her to only take sips, and she’d ignored his advice. It turned her thoughts back to Andre and his date.

  She straightened her dress, pushed her shoulders back and tried to be objective. No. She wasn’t as pretty as the blond, who looked like a fairy from a ballet. While she, on the other hand, was a dark-eyed, auburn haired woman who intimidated men with her career and aggressiveness.

  Well, not all men, she thought, running fingers through her loose curls. Not those who shared her passion for life, who demanded the best and were willing to work for it. Andre had been one of those men, but as Lars suggested, there were others who she might appreciate, and who in turn would appreciate her.

  Danielle emerged in search of her wrap.

  “I got it for you,” Lars said, handing her the tan cashmere shawl. She thanked him, noticing her lips felt full. She pulled them in slightly, wanting to lick them but some part of her mind told her it would be taken the wrong way.

  No, misinterpreted, she firmly corrected herself. It registered that her brain wasn’t working properly, like it was in first gear when she was used to cruising in fifth. She concentrated as she spoke, keeping her eyes level, and hopefully, not conveying the desire she felt for this man walking towards her.

  “Leaving?” she asked as casually as she could.

  Lars had his jacket on his arm and nodded. “Join you?” She nodded.

  Calm. Easy, she coached herself. The foreign substance racing through her system amped up everything that was already there. It was going to be a short gondola ride down, talking about the evening and perhaps what she thought of the drinks he’d ordered up. She could handle that, she told herself. No problem.

  CHAPTER 33

  Danielle tried to concentrate on the couple entering the gondola, expecting she and Lars would join them.

  “I’ll be right back. I forgot something,” he told her. Pictures on the walls caught her attention, and she attempted to the read the small-print English, describing the operational center and the trip ride down. It took twenty-one minutes.

  Lars returned just as another gondola entered the platform and the attendant ushered them in, closing the door behind them. Inside, soft music played, another unique aspect of this country. She was facing outward as the gondola moved slowly out of the building. When it lurched off the ledge, dropping slightly before righting itself, Danielle almost fell over, the motion coming on too suddenly. Lars caught her, his right hand firmly on her hip, pulling her upright and then guiding her left hand to the waist-high bar in front of her. The heat from his hand spread through her body as it lingered.

  Dammit my senses are off. She never would have been thrown by something as minor as a gondola leaving a platform. Lars asked if she wanted to sit down, as he lifted his hand from her hip.

  “It’s a long ride,” he added, but she shook her head, not really being able to see him in the near-darkness.

  “This view is…amazing,” she breathed out, feeling her words emerge like thick blocks instead of the smooth sounds. She found the experience frustrating, her lips and motor senses three steps behind her thoughts. The gondola jostled again, and she teetered. Back up went his hand.

  “If you insist on standing, I might have to leave my hand here to steady you.”

  Danielle nodded, feeling an instantaneous rush of adrenaline. The chemicals in her body, the ones she’d so studiously tried to ignore when in the presence of Lars, had been given a free pass, let loose of their prison walls and were gleefully running wild.

  Danielle willed herself out of the drink-induced frenzy that threatened to overtake her and stared out the window.

  “What is that?” she asked, the tip of her left fingers on the cold glass. Lars looked over her left shoulder, trying to find her line of sight. She smelled his cologne, knowing it was Paco Rabonne, the scent she’d mentioned on the boat.

  “I can’t tell what you are looking at.” He placed his left hand on top of hers, touching the window just as was doing, his pointer finger mirroring hers. His other hand had moved infinitesimally around her waist. She felt him against her back, the heat from his cheek near hers.

  “Ah, now I see. That,” he said softly, “is the house of one of our larger clients.”

  Danielle could barely find the air to speak. “It looks…like a …hotel,” she managed, swaying again slightly as the gondola passed through another line.

  “He’s a Russian oligarch,” Lars said, his mouth parallel with her ear.

  Danielle tried to murmur a coherent reply, but her ‘oh, really,’ came out more like a purr. Lars’ fingers slid between hers, the weight subtly carrying it down to her leg.

  “Danielle, was it difficult with Andre tonight?” She tried her best to think through her words before she said them. Her lips were on fire, and she licked them, curling her bottom lip under her teeth and biting slightly to wake her up and sharpen her senses.

  “He’s… moved on,” she managed to say. She visualized Andre’
s face looking down at her, his words of caution and her response. “I told him that if he was going to give trading advice, he needed to give it to you.”

  Lars rumbled, and Danielle didn’t know if it was with humor or irritation. But she did know how her body responded.

  “Mmm, I liked that,” she said, honestly. The drinks had removed any semblance of decorum. “You can do that again if you want.”

  “What? Laughing?”

  Danielle hummed a yes. Lars obliged and also started rubbing the sides of her fingers, lightly massaging the tips back and forth.

  “He didn’t look very happy.” Danielle could no longer see individual lights outside. They had turned to dots that were blurring into one another, like the passing of streetlamps in a fast-frame photo.

  “He was…concerned I was drinking…because he knows I don’t drink.”

  “Did you do what I asked? And were you careful?” Hs warm breath moved through her hair, down her neck and between her breasts.

  She shivered with the sensation. “No, not really,” she replied honestly. “They were too good.”

  “All of them?” he asked, his soft voice surprised.

  She nodded then stopped. “Two smelled gross, but then the bartender…” she paused to think clearly. “He gave me a Mexican coffee. Wait, two.”

  “And you drank both?” she nodded, and Danielle murmured a yes. “Given that” he began softly, his voice gentle. “I must ask, are you in control?”

  The question barely registered. His fingers had started moving up her arm, resulting in another shiver. Whatever control she had was no longer at her disposal. She should have told him that, but she doubted the words would come out coherently. All she wanted was his touching and the gondola ride to continue. That Lars was her boss, the managing director, was no longer a consideration.