Greta Again! (14 page)

            As fast as she had fallen in, she was out of the water again. At least that’s how it seemed to her. All of a sudden there were four or eight hands on the spot that grabbed her and pulled her out. Soaking wet from head to toe, she stood on the bank of the canal. Strollers passing by couldn’t hide a compassionate or amused smile and Greta had arrived back in the here and now in a stroke. The princess fairy-tale was over. This is not what she had imagined.

            My God, such an embarrassment can only happen to me, right?

            The gondolier had laid the blanket over her shoulders.

            “How did that happen?” Greta tried to maintain a little pride, given the situation. But there was no maintaining at this point. Even an elegant question couldn’t improve appearances. To fall out of the gondola into the water, and being a little tipsy on top of it – oh, boy! – Greta knew exactly that she had looked really dumb. Maybe I fell into the water elegantly, she thought, and tried to console herself.

            Mike put his arm around her, wrapped the blanket tight around her body and led her like a little girl off the stage. Greta was deeply ashamed and hardly dared to look at Mike. Probably, she was a great embarrassment to him. With the blanket and soaking wet hair, she looked like a mop.

            No wonder that he has hardly looked at me. What kind of an absolutely awkward ninny I am, she scolded herself.

            As they turned into an alley-way a couple of streets away and out of hearing-and seeing-distance of passers-by, Mike suddenly broke out in loud laughter. Apparently he had suppressed the laughter all this time so that he wouldn’t embarrass Greta in front of all these strangers.  But now he couldn’t hold back any longer. He laughed genuinely and loud. For a moment, Greta hesitated. And then she laughed too.

            “You really are a magnificent actor, Greta. That was a scene out of a movie. Such slapstick would be impossible to imitate.”

            Both of them laughed until they had to hold their stomachs because of the pain. Fortunately, the distance to the appartemento wasn’t very far.

Chapter 16

In the appartemento, the preparations for the big party were under way at high pitch. Sigi was supposed to arrive in the next hour. By then – according to the schedule – everything was to be ready for the guests.

            That which now greeted Greta’s eyes seemed to be from another world, or better said – like the preparations for the most exquisite and fashionable parties in Hollywood:

            A red carpet in the stairwell, butler and female wait-staff in black and white uniforms with little hats, a buffet that was roughly twelve yards long. Champagne-buckets on about twenty high bistro-tables, cooks with mountains of culinary delicacies and then, too . . .a band.

            Isn’t that the singer from Simply Red? What’s his name again? Oh, yes, Mick Hucknall! But the band had been dissolved, Greta thought. Is that the most, he’s giving a private concert here. Insane!

            Completely numb, Greta stood in the living room, stared at Mick Hucknall and was taken aback by the commotion of the many people in the house. She had completely forgotten that she was still soaking wet and wrapped in a blanket. Mike nudged her from behind.

            “You should go change and get ready. In this state, they’ll throw you out of the party. Your new rags most certainly have to look better than this shabby thing.”

            “Oh, dear, I’m standing here like Dora Dumdum and don’t even notice that I’m still wrapped in a blanket. You must really think that I’m a fruitcake – I’ll try to get with it, okay?”

            She tried to get a smile out of Mike, but he remained serious.

            I guess I’m pretty embarrassing right now. A superstar is standing here in front of me and all I can do is stare. Maybe he didn’t see me.

            Greta slinked through the living room in the direction of the spiral staircase to the upper floor. With the impression that in all the commotion nobody was watching her anyway, she felt almost invisible. Almost.

            “Nice outfit,” she heard someone behind her call out.

            Hopefully they weren’t referring to her.

            What a crock!

            Greta’s mouth almost fell open when she saw that it was Mick Hucknall who had just called out behind her.

            Yes, of course, that has to happen to me. As if not enough had happened today. Always keeps coming to the little ones.

            “Oh, yes, thank you,” with a tortured smile was all that she could do to answer Mr. Hucknall. She climbed the stairs – without stopping.

            “Oh, yes, thank you? What kind of a dim-wit are you really – he’s now thinking who knows what about you. But certainly nothing good. I’m really the chief dodo at the office. Couldn’t I think of anything better to say? How uncool! Really, Greta, that can’t be. What an evening this should turn into!”

            She went into the bathroom and realized how destroyed she really looked: The hair fell in strands flat onto her forehead and hung into her face. The mascara had run and was completely smeared. With the blanket over her shoulders, which had gotten wet from her soaked clothes, she not only looked a good fifteen years older, she looked like a gnome wearing a long train. Besides, she was barefoot, because her shoes had taken on water like a sponge during the involuntary bath. With every step one could hear a “squish-squash” – and still worse –one could feel it. Primarily between the toes. That’s why her feet were now completely filthy, up to her calves.

            Maybe at least he didn’t see my feet. And if he did, how could it be any worse.

            She took a long, warm shower, which did her a lot of good. The rest of her preparation for the evening was routine: shaving, lotion, blow-dry, make-up, nail-polish – Ugh, the feet looked really bad! – Jewelry and finally the outfit. Should she really wear it?

            I don’t have any other choice now. I don’t have another dress here.

            Oh, what do I have to lose? Everything happens for the best. Suddenly Antonia was again on her mind.

            No, I don’t want to spend time on that now!

            She tried to get rid of the thoughts about Antonia but it didn’t work. Busy with getting dressed and the last touches, she didn’t notice that Mike stood at the door and was watching her.

            “If we didn’t have to go downstairs now, I’d rearrange you on the spot. You’re a knockout in that dress! Wow! Every man will be jealous of me with you at my side.  You are really one hot number!”

            He came over to her, reached deep into the low-cut back with one hand, and with the other turned her around and grabbed her between her thighs. Greta swallowed in surprise, but allowed him to do it. It was a welcome diversion and the response she had wished for to Antonia’s words, which hadn’t stopped hammering in her head. They kissed each other, his body burned to have her, and his hands greedily sought her breasts, which came toward him with nipples erect and hard. Greta’s kisses were fiery and fierce. She would have let him take her on the floor only too gladly. But when she opened his shirt, he moved back.

            “We can’t now. Believe me, I want you now too, but we have to go downstairs.”

            Greta pressed her pelvis against his hips and felt his hard organ. How could he be so uptight now?, she asked herself.

            “We’re already experienced at quick action, Mike. Come over here.”

            She pulled her dress over her hips and Mike’s glance was fixed on her extra small lace thong. Greta had surprised herself with her own initiative. But what had happened in the restroom in New York had been etched into her mind. It was worth a repeat. If he took her like that again, it would be proof for her that she was to suppress Antonia and what she said entirely. At least it would help her to do so. The sight of Greta’s small hips and her delicate feminine curves was almost too much for Mike to bear. An invitation which at this moment, every man would have to respond to. Mike hesitated a part of a second – Greta was just about to take off the thong, as Mike reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her hips again.

            “No, we can’t. C’mon!”

            He turned around and went to the door. Greta swallowed, not only her surprise – that he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him. She also swallowed her sexual lust, her fantasy, and a thick helping of disappointment. To win a little time, she called after him:

            “Go ahead, I need a couple of minutes.”

            “Fine, I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

            Those weren’t the words she had hoped to hear. It wasn’t “No problem, I’ll wait for you here.” Or, “That’s fine, then come here so that I can nibble on you,” or at least, “Are you okay?”

            What was that just now? Greta thought to herself. I don’t know him like this . . . But how well do I know him, actually? Basically, I know now, as before, almost nothing about him.

            She looked in the mirror, put on more lipgloss and fixed her hair.

            This is not getting any better – I’m going down.

            She looked at herself in the mirror for another moment longer.

            What am I doing here actually? Perhaps I have to leave entirely – and Antonia is right. Or am I too sensitive right now because I didn’t get him to perform sexually? Am I the disappointed, unsatisfied one? The chick? What would Nathalie say . . .? Oh, dear, Nathalie!

            Greta looked for her cell phone; finally, there was a message from Nathalie.

            He is still a virgin – don’t know if he has eggs in his pants – I’m confused too – but otherwise everything is good: great shopping! We’ll talk at home. Ciao Bella! N.

            Greta had to smile. Typical Nathalie. She was already looking forward to seeing her.

            Everything doesn’t have to be so dramatic. Don’t make yourself so important and don’t be so sensitive.

            She stood up straight in front of the mirror, pulled her shoulders back, and finally lifted her head. Everything happens for the best!

Chapter 17

In the living room and on the terrace the first guests were already bustling about.

            Sigi had also arrived. Finally Greta would get to meet him. For the good luck, he hadn’t seen her with the wet blanket – in her quasi-ragged-look.  At least she was spared from that. Mike was already mixing with the guests and was involved in a conversation with a group. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he had noticed her. Fortunately! She didn’t want to blunder her way through the entire party and tensely look for a connection somewhere. Mike cut himself loose from the conversation and came toward her. And everyone could see that this man now was devoting himself to her. My God, he really looked like a knockout! The light shirt, half open, the dark, narrow pants and the stylish belt with the silver buckle – simply a super guy. He knew how to set himself into the scene. His long legs once again were stuck into cowboy-boots. This time beautiful black snakeskin. Slowly Greta was getting used to the fact that he was the cowboy-boots man. It would probably be somewhat odd if he had regular shoes on sometime. Everything suited him. The long legs, the narrow hips, the firm behind and then the really good-looking upper body. She was proud that he now came toward her and everyone could see.

            “You really look fabulous. The dress is exceptional – but then, so are you.”

            He smiled at her. And despite that you didn’t want me the way I wanted you just now, went through her mind.

            “Thank you. I was unsure until the last minute if I would be okay in this. I don’t wear something like this every day.”

            He put his arm around her, kissed her on the neck so that everyone could see, and led her to the group of people with whom he had been speaking earlier. The kiss on the neck gave Greta a cold-warm shiver down her back again. Shit, why was she so hot for this man?! Mike introduced her and Greta quickly joined the conversation. There were Venetians, Italians from the surrounding area, various Europeans and Americans. A varied group and all clients or friends of Sigi. Mike also introduced Sigi himself, and entirely opposite to Greta’s expectations, he seemed quite young. She had expected an aged gentleman, already in his late sixties, who acquired his riches and income through many years of industriousness. Sigi, who now stood before her, seemed to be around forty, perhaps even in his late thirties: an absolutely impeccably groomed man. Sigi wore only designer clothes, highly elegant, and had a professional and self-assured manner. He was cordial and open toward her.

            “I have already heard from Mike that you liked Salzburg very much. That pleases me. You’re welcome any time. May I introduce my husband to you?”

            Oh, Greta thought, Sigi is gay. He would certainly appeal to Marcel. Sigi came back with a good-looking man at his side.

            “May I introduce Tony. Here in Venice he is my ‘Tonio’, but actually Tony comes from the Tyrol and we’re both Austrians.”

            “Yes, I thought as much. I can hear it a little in the accent. Very charming, Gentlemen. It is very generous of you to welcome me here so cordially. And one can’t forget Salzburg! I feel extraordinarily well here and that’s not a matter of course – at least not for me.”

            “Oh, Greta, that‘s extremely charming. But for Mike and his friends we always have an open door. We’ve known each other a long time and it’s always a pleasure to be able to have him visit us.”

            Greta smiled. She didn’t know exactly if everything that Sigi was saying was really so positive. One could also understand from what he said that Mike had been here many times with friends – or, more accurately, girl- friends! Once again a strange feeling made itself noticeable in her stomach. And there was Antonia again, in her head.