by Helena Smith
NEW
ENCOUNTERS
H.S.SMITH
First published in 2013 by H.S.Smith
Copyright © Helena S Smith
Helena S Smith has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. Helena S Smith holds the copyright for this book globally.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
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The places are real, however all dealings that have gone on in this book are fictional, as are the characters and names.
Cover© Matthewjones | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images
I dedicate this book to my dear Father who never got to finish his. To my Mum who supports me and cheers me on through everything. Thank you x
CHAPTER 1
‘When we look at the projection for the coming year, the outlook is flat. We need to focus our energies into niche areas to really gain an advantage over our competitor.....’ Ice Maiden continued to talk. Thats the nickname I have given the Finance Director. With one look, I am sure she could turn people into ice. I really can not be bothered today, mind you …. I say this often. Working for a global company has its advantages. I get to go out on expenses and travel to some cities and countries I would never have normally chosen. We are having yet another meeting in our offices in Frankfurt. All sat round a conference table, each trying to look engaged.
The truth is, we were all out last night, after a 10 hour day. This morning we were all a little fuzzy headed coming into the office at 7:30am. We really do work hard and play harder. All filled with the excitement of the day ahead....not! I look around the room and notice that everyone really does live and breathe their jobs. I feel abnormal sometimes, because while I have done very well in this company and been promoted 3 times in the 7 years I have been here...... I just could not share their sense of obsession. Even at 11pm in a bar they would sit and pour over ‘Competitor analysis’. Me, I was sat there thinking about what colour nail polish I was going to paint my nails this Friday night. I really don’t fit in. But, it pays decent enough money, I have unfortunately become familiar with the comfort zone that was my job. Truth be told... it probably filled some void as I was single. Yep thats right, I am 33 and single. Never been married, and a string of mostly short romances that went nowhere. I actually dread filling out forms, that have the single questions. Even when you go to register somewhere ‘Are you married?’ , ‘No, I am single’. Then you get that expression. The expression that reads ‘Oh... your a Lesbian’. I am forever going to be known as the spinster that was a secret lesbian. And I love men...... my best friend and I often joke at how we letch at men.
‘Bella, can you tell me what your thoughts are on this?’
Christ. I flush red. Panic time..... think. think
‘Well Carol, I completely agree with your comments. I believe that by concentrating on niche areas will help us gain control over our competitors. I also think that if we spare time to focus on pushing our foundation products we will maintain a stronghold.’
‘Definitely Bella, good point. So moving on, Richard will take us through the plans for Russia’.
Phew. I really do not know why I do this job. I hate having the spotlight on me. Ashleigh has been my best friends since we were 6. She always goes on about how intelligent I am. But I really don’t feel it. And I really dislike having the spotlight on me, especially in a professional setting. We have more managers than we know what to do with, and the structure is all wrong. But they all think they know what they are doing. They should do, they schedule a meeting or a teleconference for any reason. All so superficial. I was told yesterday that our global CEO was opening the stock exchange in New York next week. I had to stifle my joke. It was not long ago since the smurfs did it! I doubt my colleagues would know who the smurfs are.
Richard is still babbling on, and I manage to take a look at my watch without anyone seeing. Half an hour left. Thank god. Half an hour, until I can go downstairs get my suitcase and get in the taxi homeward bound.
That half an hour has actually gone quickly, and before I know it, I am bound to the lift. I dare not use the stairs in this place. Health and safety gone mad. Breathing in here can be seen as risky. The lift pings on the 2nd floor and my colleague steps in and gives me a massive hug.
‘Guttentag Bella’
‘Guttentag Mona’
She laughed her head off as always at my best German impression.
‘Are you going today?’
‘I sure am, heading for the taxi now. When are you next over to the UK? ‘
‘I think it will be next month Bella, but I will keep you posted. We should go out for a drink, Yes?’
‘Definitely, let me know Mona, take care sweetie’.
We arrive on the ground floor before departing our separate ways with another hug. She is such a lovely person. She has tried desperately in vain to teach me German, and does it with such enthusiasm and cheers every time I get a word right. She claims I am doing well, but I have only learnt 4 sentences, and how to call someone a smurf. Which really.... isn’t that helpful in Germany.
I whizz into the taxi with my suitcase and am joined by one of our french sales managers, Pierre. He is smaller then me, quite handsome and we have always had this buzz between us. He is married, and I would never go there, but I can enjoy the flirt. He gets in the taxi donning a wide cheshire cat grin. He slides up in the taxi and sits far to close. The taxi pulls away and I have to avert my eyes as we are on the wrong side of the road.
‘Pierre’ I say in a soft voice, but with a hard to get grin across my face. Jesus, I can’t help but flirt with this guy.
‘Bella, you are looking more stunning than usual. You are, how do you say.... looking radiant. Yes zat is eet. You are looking beautiful, stunning and radiant. Please, let me escort you to the airport.’
The french accent gets me every time, as well as his amazing compliments. I have known this guy for nearly 8 years. The whole office thinks we have had an affair at some point. Ahhh what the hell, let them think what they want. We have a great flirty friendship.
‘Pierre, I have no choice really do I ? The taxi is en route!’ To which we both burst out laughing.
‘Bella, that Finance Director, she seems like a right beeeaccchhh’. Good god, this guy even makes a swear word sexy. I laughed and raised my eyebrows in a silent agreement. I always try to stand firm on what my parents had taught me. If you have nothing nice to say, then do not say anything at all.
Being with Pierre made the journey to the airport quick. We caught up on how his kids were, what his plans were for the weekend, which always included wine. After all... he is French. He paid the taxi, which saved me having to mess about trying to get into my jam packed handbag. We kissed each other on the cheek before he parted, giving me the eye like he always does. He just oozes it. But he makes me grin. He goes off to the swiss airline check in desk as I head for Lufthansa. Homeward bound at last. I check in my luggage, and head for security trying to not look like a snail weighed down with everything. My handbag is stuffed full, and my laptop bag feels like I am carrying another person. Before I know it, I am through security and boarding the plane. Sat next to a guy that was too overweight and sweating profusely. He didn’t look like the kind to start talking me to death, which was great. Its Friday, and I want to get home pronto. So I closed my eyes and thought about what I was doing this weekend and what I need to get done.
Ash would be at home, armed with wine. She worked in a doctors surgery on reception a
nd therefore her hours were a lot more normal than mine. With me travelling and having a job that was ruled by a blackberry meant I could work sometimes until 10pm at night. Not tonight though... tonight we were going to catch up, get a takeaway and probably watch a movie. While the washing machine worked its magic on the contents of my suitcase.
CHAPTER 2
‘Then she shouted, ‘I have been waiting for 25 minutes. I have a bad back’ with that, she dropped her keys and managed to bend with the ability of a friggin russian athlete! I just sat and looked at her in astonishment!’ . Oh how I loved Ashes funny stories. She does make me laugh.
‘So come on then Bell, did you lot end up going out and partying hard again?’
‘haha... no. The boys did, but I gave in at about midnight. I was shattered and still had a report to finish. So I headed back to the hotel last night and had to fire up the laptop. The boys looked worse for wares though this morning.’
‘They work you too hard there. You work ridiculous hours all the time.’
‘I know, but I really don’t know what else to do’.
The truth was.... I really didn’t. Yeah I had fantasy ideas in my head. Like going to a Beyonce concert and her calling me to get up on stage and shocking her with my voice. But I mean wow... I couldn’t exactly pursue that ambition could I. I am thinking that I am having a midlife crisis at the moment. 33years old, single (STILL), I part own a house, have credit card debt, live month to month. I am carrying extra baggage, AKA fat. My confidence is at an all time low. Wow... it really is. I have thought about going on a retreat, the ones where you find yourself. But it scares me that I won’t find myself. Ridiculous really. I have always worked hard, but I really don’t feel like it’s my life’s passion. Far from it. Some people ramble on ‘Follow your heart’, ‘Your ideal job is something you enjoy doing’. I have no idea what I enjoy doing. I love eating, clearly. But I can’t get a job eating. Or, I will be like one of those people where the side of the house has to be removed so that I can be transported somewhere. I do need a change though.
‘Maybe I should do what my Mum has done’ My response from this comment was Ash rolling about the floor laughing. My Mum had moved to California to live with a surf dude, and be a kind of hippy. Jesus... even my Mum could pull better than me.
‘Bell, you are not exactly the hippy type and shack up with a surf dude like Jez! I swear if I saw you in tie die I would faint.’
‘Okay.... okay’. She was so right, it definitely was not me!
‘Where are you off to next week?’
‘Well next week I am a lucky girl... I am off to Monaco. I have been put on a team at work to help organise our European ABM. So I have to suss out the hotel. Shouldn’t be too bad.’
‘Well you deserve it, so make sure you pack your glad rags. Don’t you dare sit in your room having room service. Promise me, that you will go to the restaurant.’
I nodded in agreement. She knows me too well. I have too often sat in my room at night and had room service. There is nothing worse then being in a restaurant in a hotel, alone. You always ended up feeling paranoid that people were staring at you. She was right though. It was high time to start making some changes.
CHAPTER 3
I walked into my bedroom in the Hotel De Paris, Monte Carlo. Wow. This hotel is stunning. The service on reception was amazing. Damn, even the lift was special. I have been lucky enough to be booked into a one bedroom suite. I walked around and reflected how the other half live. I have a balcony with the most stunning view. A basket of fresh fruit on the table in my lounge. I ran into the bathroom and squealed at the sight of the bath. I can not wait to get in there. But for now, it will have to wait. I need to get the work laptop out and start my report. I also need to get my paperwork out and have a meeting with the Events manager.
Later that evening, I run the bath and I go to sit on the balcony for 10 minutes. Devouring a large glass of wine and lapping up the view. The warm air is delicious. I get into the bath and even the aroma of the bubble bath is delicious. I suit this lifestyle! After lounging in the bubbles for 10 minutes my promise to Ash was prompted by the grumble in my stomach. I was starving, but I was not allowed to order room service. Oh she would never know. But, then and again, she knew me well enough. She had even made me pack one of my ‘posh’ dresses and a pair of spanx, so I couldn’t make an excuse to get out of it.
What the hell, the wine had given me an air of confidence. I got out of the bath, and quickly applied some make up. This hotel was too posh for me not to. Actually, I would go as far as to say..... they were not ready to see my face nude. There might very well be an exodus. I make sure I put my spanx on, and slipped on my black ‘posh’ dress along with my favourite leopard print heels. I sprayed some perfume, and looked in the mirror. I decided that I actually looked reasonable. In fact my inner goddess was stood there, hands on hip nodding frantically in approval.
I decide to go and dine in the ‘Grill’ restaurant, as it has a beautiful sea view. The other restaurants would leave me feeling awkward. The waiter kindly seated me in the window, and knew it was a table for one without me having to make a declaration yet again that I was single......phew. It means that I can sit throughout my meal and focus on watching the sea throughout and not notice the odd glances from romantic couples at the singleton.
To make the process as quick and as pain free as possible, I ask the waiter to choose a nice glass of white wine for me, and he recommended the sea bass for mains. I said that this would be perfect. Thankfully, he is quick with the wine. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the sea. It looks amazing out there. The sun was setting, with the most beautiful orange glow. The colour was reflecting on the waves. I love the sea so much, but I have such a bad fear of sharks. I even swam with sharks once to try and overcome my fear. Ridiculous now when I think about it. It makes me smile though.
I take another sip of my delicious wine. Thank god for expenses. It was delicious and the price tag will no doubt reflect this. Am I brave enough to glance around the restaurant. I take a deep breath, and casually glance around the restaurant. Shock horror, there are several loved up affluent couples. The women giggling at their men. I can even see one very young beautiful woman playfully moving her foot under the table along the guy’s leg. He was definitely not going to complain. I would say he is late fifties or early sixties, a pot belly to prove he has been living the good life. He knows he will be getting lucky tonight. But who am I to judge? At the end of the day, they are both clearly happy with their end of the deal.
Then I remember my childhood sweetheart. We dated for about a year. We were only 16 at the time. I had gone through school, and had a crush on him for 6 years. At the school leaving party, he marched up to me and kissed me. An awkward 16 year old kiss that made my stomach do back flips and my legs wobble like jelly. Chris Robson was my heart throb. After that we were inseparable. I loved him with all my heart. He had always wanted to join the army though, and I knew it was his heart’s desire. The day he was accepted and signed up was one of the hardest decisions I had to make. I told him that he was to follow his dream, and maybe one day fate will bring us together. I had to do this, as I knew I would worry too much everyday that he was away and I was too young for that. He cried and so did I. I was broken hearted for years. If I am honest, he was my first and only love.
Another sip of my delicious white wine, and I admit I can not wait now to finish my dinner, go upstairs and sit on my balcony to feel that breeze again. I feel like I am being watched, and my automatic reaction was to look around the room. But all the couples were very much engrossed with each other. I look at my table, even that’s gorgeous. With its crisp white linen, simple yet elegant with a beautiful centre piece. As I glance up, I can see a man staring right at me. Oh my god, I turn my head and immediately look outside. Oh my god, I am 33 years old and I feel uncomfortable with a grown man looking at me. My inner goddess is screaming at me ‘Look back you coward!’ I take another sip of my wine,
and casually try to look up without looking suspicious.
Oh dear god, he is staring right at me and not even remotely trying to disguise it. I look back at the sea. Oh I wish that sea would reach me right now and sweep me out. Maybe I slipped when I was putting on my lipstick and it’s really on my forehead which is why this guy is staring at me. Or maybe I have a giant bogie hanging out of my nose. He is not even giving me the chance to check in my portable mirror in my handbag. Or maybe, he is flirting. Could it be? There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. I press my lips together and blush. Oh great.... I have to blush right now at this moment. Why is it that some of us are cursed with blushes. Why is it, at this point I have to start thinking about the most obscure thing I can think of.
Inner goddess, if you are in there right now, can you please help! I know, I have to steal myself and act confident. Come on Bella, pretend your acting, look up and make eye contact. I mean I am in my 30’s. A deep breath, I look up and yes he is looking at me, with the faint trace of a smile on his lips. I have to say... Oh la la....this guy is gorgeous. He is dressed in a casual suit with no tie and the first few buttons undone on his shirt. I smile back at him. The waiter interrupts our moment with my seabass. Oh no, now I have to eat while My Oh la la is staring at me. I decide that if I can’t see him, then he can’t possibly see me. So if I just stared at my plate and the sea, then he can’t see me can he?!