Daigo&Klose companies: footwear in variety. Munich, 2017
Flashes could stun anyone, though not so much if they were pointed straight at you, as was her case, who had to blink repeatedly to get the annoying spots of light blinding her out of her eyes. Apart from pretending that she was flattered to be the center of attention of all the journalists who stepped on the doors of her domain, pushing almost rudely all kinds of electronic devices -phones, microphones...- in her face to get the explicit and detailed news of her version of the hasty divorce that the owners of the Daigo&Klose: footwear in variety companies were carrying out. And she was, on that side, more than happy to give them everything - her version of course - but she found it almost obscene that they were behaving like this: like animals hunting for a single, juicy meal - which translated into the reason for their desperation to divorce one of Munich's most sought-after billionaires.
It sounded repetitive, but wasn't everyone being repetitive about why she - precisely she - wanted a divorce? Well, she'd be damned if the evil had already rubbed off on her. She didn't care.
-Miss Klose, why is it that...?
Hakan put on his best smile and elegantly pushed the microphone away of unkempt journalist who had committed the barbarity of calling her that.
-Miss Daigo for you. -Then she looked away from the embarrassed boy and looked at her own kind: gossips and gossip mongers, capable of crushing anyone to the last to get the scoop of their story to expose it to the world, earning not only prestige, but also money.
Everything always ends up falling one way or another before the money, he said to himself, his marriage was a clear example.
-Hakan, cut the fucking crap. My heels hurt from waiting for you.
She never thought that hearing the grumpy voice on the intercom attached to her ear, from the king of drama, bitterness and the most atheistic being she had ever met and her now... lover, would put her in such a good mood. And she thought that he was the one she needed to get the hell out of there, dignified. And so she did, she gave an impish smile and made a sly gesture to her bodyguards to act as a wall before saying:
-The leave you for today, someone important requires my presence and I don't want to keep him waiting for things that no longer have salvation. Good afternoon.
As I expected, the press went crazy with questions: Is Príapo Vodoz inside? And the most blatant ones: Is it true that part of the blame lies with you for taking a lover too? But Hakan enjoyed whit not answering them, walking dignifiedly into the interior of the Daigo&Klose companies, very soon only Zhay Hakan: variety in footwear. He would give his company his full name, the one his mother baptized it with since she decided that the last pure lineages of her family would remain in it. Today, being she the last.
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However, her secretary accosted her as soon as she crossed the glass double doors, looking at her hurriedly, sparing her the feeling.
-There is a man who wishes to speak with you, Miss Daigo. He sounded somewhat anxious to meet her.
Hakan walked on and she followed quickly.
-I know, I have no doubt that the man who wishes to talk to me is impatient. -She replied with amusement. His secretary caught the mockery in she boss's voice and reddened from head to toe with alarming speed. Being such a brunette, it shouldn't be noticeable, but on Christine, the red stood out as brightly as the Christmas star on the top of a tree.
Her blue-tinged mane shook. -It's not about Mr. Príapo.
Hakan stopped his gait a few steps from reception, recognizing the male back covered by a flannel shirt, quite casual for a lawyer with such a good prestige and reputation that, it had to be admitted, on his body molded thanks to hard hours of exercise, suited him wonderfully. Something that not the admit to himself either to the king with the biggest ego in all of Germany would never. He looked at she secretary:
-I thought you'd forgotten about Príapo, how well they get along.
Christine snorted.
-First a fish gets pregnant by a shark, boss. The pleasant coexistence between me and Mr. Príapo is completely nullified.
Hakan shook she head in amusement and surprise. - That occurrences, Chris.
And that's why he liked him so much. Chris was a breath of fresh air full of sincere innocence that people like her, so surrounded by liars and traitors, found wonderful. Almost everyone, because Príapo seemed to hate just that about her. The man was strange, what could one do to him?
-Miss, what shall I do with the other man?
-Saying it like that, it looks like I'm cheating on my lover with someone else.
Chris's brown cheeks reddened again with the same magnitude as before -and as always.
-No, no... I'm not...
-Shhh, it's just me teasing you. -As he turned his head, his eyes met Príapo irritation-laden honey eyes, so he hurried the talk. In any case, tell him there's no audience for today and may not be for a while. Who knows what he wants, and I'm not about to negotiate with any more fantocrats about whether or not to sell my company to them once it's under my absolute tutelage.
Chris nodded-. Very well, miss, I'll leave you then. Have a good afternoon.
-Equally Chris.
-That girl smells like shit to me. Everything about her irritates me, with her aura and her good vibes. Fuck her, in this life the strongest and the liars win. White pigeons, on the other hand, are devoured in a matter of a short time.
She didn't hear him coming, but she wasn't startled by his comment either: where Chris was harmony and good manners, in Príapo he was bitterness and rudeness that bordered on vulgarity.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
-Let me make one thing clear: Christine Barlosk is no longer a child. And I sense, my dear gentleman, that that is what bothers you most.
Príapo retort seemed to die on his lips as soon as they saw Chris greet with two friendly kisses a boy who looked to be his age. Then he shook his head and gave her an annoyed look.
-Why don't you save your smart-ass speeches for someone else and leave me alone? -He began his carefree walk towards the elevators-. I can't wait to see the look on your hubby's face when I tell him you're going to take away almost everything he loves," she said with a sly smile. His companies, the money they invest, and his prestige.
Hakan grimaced before following him to the elevator.
-First of all, he's not my hubby anymore, at least not spiritually. And secondly, how ungentlemanly you are, shouting to the four winds, in front of my workers, to move my rear.
Príapo gave him a mocking smile as he marked the ground.
-Just because I hobnob with the ladies, which in fact, you're the only one I do. Doesn't mean I have to be an honorable gentleman myself in the end. I'm not old-fashioned.
And when both had sunk into their thoughts, Hakan wondered if they had been worth all these years with Freder Klose, a man who, like Príapo, lacked the proper chivalry to which she had been accustomed before. The answer was no. Giving herself to a man like him body and soul, being the lady her mother raised and tutored, was worth nothing. Because in the end, instead of changing him for the better, the one who ended up darkening her being was him, leaving her empty.
The sensation to that feeling of emptiness was shame, by herself. She no longer knew who she was, but she would soon learn to. And that, despite everything, was the only thing that kept her afloat before, did now and with a little hope, maybe tomorrow.