Caprice - Collection Vol. 1

And the day had started out so well . Maren thought despondently. She was sitting at her office desk, her head resting in her hands, elbows propped, and her eyes closed. A persistent shrill voice was coming out of the phone's handset lying on the desk next to her ear.

It was her mother.

Maren had managed to go almost four weeks without talking to her on the phone. But today, she'd tracked her down at work.

"You haven't been home in a while," the reproachful voice said.

And I won't be coming back any time soon, Maren added silently. "I'm just so busy here, mom. I explained this to you the last time I visited."

She didn't even bother moving the headset closer to her mouth. Her mother would be able to hear everything anyway. Or likely she'd just hear what she wanted to hear.

"But it's a holiday weekend - surely, you'll get some time off! You could come by then and I can introduce you to this ."

Just out of earshot of her mother's incessant nagging, Maren suddenly heard footsteps. She quickly sat up and tried to look awake - she didn't want her boss thinking she was slacking off. She really couldn't handle one of his fits of rage right now, not on top of all this.

"Mom, I already told you - I have to work on holidays, too. The world doesn't stop just because it's a public holiday. We still have to cover the news for people you know"

Maren glanced over her shoulder, grabbed the handset and held it to her ear, propping it up with her shoulder.

She began nervously tapping a pencil on the soft desktop mat.

"Are you even listening to me?" her mother asked accusingly.

"I know a nice young man here in Nordhuusen. He would be perfect for you."

Maren groaned. "I don't need him, mom. Thanks, but I've already got someone." The words had slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"And you wait 'til now to tell me about it? How did you meet him? What's his name? Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Maren rolled her eyes. Her gaze travelled over her newly decorated workspace and came to rest on the framed cover of FLASH, in which her first article had appeared.

"Brown hair, a constant smile dancing on his lips, and eyes as gentle as a teddybear. He's a chef in a Portuguese restaurant, which is also where I met him." Maren nodded, satisfied, as the picture of the man in front of her became clearer: with a hard body, yet intelligent and charismatic. Her hands paused while she looked at the pencil more closely. A smirk crossed her lips - yes, the length was just right.

"Well, then you simply have to come back over the holiday weekend now. I want to meet ."

At that moment her mother's voice appeared to fade out as Walter Stein, the Editor in Chief, stepped into the open plan office, his hands on his portly hips. Startled, Maren dropped her pencil but recovered herself quickly enough to cover the phone's mouthpiece with one hand. She concentrated on what her boss was saying.

"Ok, listen up, everyone! I need someone who's got some time free and a valid passport."

Without a second thought, Maren's hand shot up in the air. This was her chance to escape from another bourgeois weekend filled with familial chumminess and her mother's desperate attempts to hook her up with one of the local farmers.

"Maren? You've got time?"

She quickly nodded without having the slightest idea what kind of assignment she was accepting. Anything would be better than Nordhuusen.

"Well, pack your bags and be at the airport in three hours." he looked over to his secretary, "Lori, I'll send you the details in a minute, and then book Maren's flight, please. Maren, you'll get an email with all the info."

Maren ignored his curtness. She, like everyone else in the office, was used to it by now. She didn't want to make him angry for fear of him taking the story away from her, so she just nodded instead of adding a snappy comment of her own.

When she turned her attention back to her mother, Maren noticed that she hadn't even stopped talking. ".I'm sure he's a good guy, but if you're already with someone then I'm sure he'll understand."

"Sorry Mom, but I've got to go. Work is calling. Reports to write. Busy busy busy, all weekend long. Speak to you soon."

Maren could hear her mother's quick intake of breath on the other end of the line as she hung up the phone.

I've made it, she thought relieved and got up from her chair. She looked at her first cover one more time. The brown haired guy with the teddybear eyes was her guy, although he was most probably not a chef. As far as she remembered, he was a track and field racer, albeit retired for a couple of years now. In any case, he would never have to meet her mother.

"Lori, do you know where I'm off to?" she asked, passing the secretary's desk. Waiting for her to answer, Maren slipped off her thin cotton cardigan. It was the beginning of May in Hamburg, but temperatures were already as high as in the middle of summer.

"Mexico. You should pack a few summer dresses, sweetie." Lori smiled her friendly bright red lipstick smile.

Maren's eyes widened as she ran her hands through her short hair. "Mexico? That's going to be a long flight."

"Take a book."

Maren nodded and left the office. She had to hustle if she wanted to check in on time, so she ordered a cab back to her place immediately.

***

Her eyes caught the clock. She still had two hours before her flight was due to take off. Lori had called and given her the flight details. Maren threw one last dress into her suitcase before she slipped into her heels. They matched the light beige linen dress she was wearing perfectly. One more glance over her belongings, around the apartment, and she was off. Her travel bag in tow, she walked out onto the sunny street where the taxi she'd ordered was waiting for her.

But just as Maren was locking her front door behind her, she saw a man heading straight towards the cab.

"Hey!" Maren shouted, annoyed. The casually dressed man looked up briefly, smiled at her, and then disappeared inside the car with one elegant move.

Outraged, she watched the taxi accelerate away. She briefly considered running after the vehicle, but then remembered that her shoes were definitely not appropriate footwear for chasing cars.

Maren rummaged around her tan handbag for her cellphone. Thanks to that rude idiot, she would now have to call another taxi.

***

Twenty minutes later, she was finally on her way to the airport. She nervously drummed her fingers on her upper thigh. This was not going quite as planned. She was used to last-minute assignments and always kept a bag partially packed for a quick exit to the airport, so she could jet off to her next exotic location. But this time she'd really be cutting it close. Every couple of minutes, she looked at her watch as they inched through the traffic and finally arrived at the airport. She didn't even wait for the taxi driver to give her the change, or to help her with her luggage. With one forceful move, she'd pulled the suitcase out of the trunk and began clattering her way towards check in.

Maren raced past people, all of whom seemed to have made it their life's mission to stand in her way that day. Her handbag shook around violently, as it accidently hit an overweight man she tried to avoid. The sound of his cursing only followed her briefly as all her focus was on straining to hear the check in announcements. There, the voice rang out that check-in for the flight to Cancún at counter 64 was closing in a couple of minutes.

Panicked, Maren looked around. She was at the wrong terminal. Without another thought, she took off her heels and started running.

The self check-in machine that printed her ticket must've been an antique relic from another era.

There's probably a little man sitting inside of it, writing it all down by hand, Maren thought while attempting to control the impatient tapping of her foot.

Finally! The ticket came out.

The sign with the number 64 lit up in front of her. Maren ran without paying any attention to who was around her. She barged through a few lines and pulled her suitcase over anyone's feet who got in the way.

When she finally reached the counter, she had to use her hand to break her speed so she wouldn't run into it.

"Hello" she exclaimed breathlessly, before slamming her passport and the freshly printed ticket on the counter.

She could discern the counter lady's raised eyebrow from the corner of her eye, as she put her shoes back on.

"You cut it very close, Ms. Janson. I was just about to close up."

"Yes, I know." Maren was still wheezing, but her heartbeat had become more regular already. Years of regular exercise were finally paying off.

"Aisle or window seat?"

"I don't care, as long as I can get on that plane."

Maren was being much more unfriendly than the woman deserved, but she couldn't deal with politeness right now. She took a few deep breaths, told...