CHAPTER TWELVE #2
As I glanced out of the train window my initial impulse on noticing the exciting mix of architecture was to send a message to Erik and share my initial impressions of a city he’d travelled to many times before without me.
It was just a moment, a glitch of longing to connect with my dearest friend, and then I was overcome by a wave of sadness.
Erik and I were over; and there was no friendship and no communication unless it was via our lawyers.
I understood he’d betrayed me. He was a serial cheater, and he didn’t deserve my thoughts, let alone my time, but I…
missed our conversations and I hated that I couldn’t call him for his opinion, or talk about art, architecture, food, or music.
He’d been the central pillar of my life for eleven years and now he was gone.
The grief of that loss was suddenly bewildering.
I needed to come to terms with the fact that he’d made his choice and there was no point in holding onto thoughts of a man who didn’t want me, especially when, sitting across from me looking dozily out of the window, was a man who did want me.
As if sensing my eyes on him, Jack turned his head and our gazes collided.
Something tangible was somersaulting in my gut.
This was a new chapter, and I was here with Jack, ready to embrace it.
After stepping off the train at the central rail station, Hauptbanhof, we got a taxi for the ten-minute ride to the hotel.
I knew of Berlin from music, and movies, and from TV shows like the spy show, Berlin Station.
That show was dark and moody, with locations exhibiting the Bauhaus architecture of the 1930s and the severe Brutalism of the 50s.
But Berlin in early July wasn’t dark or brooding.
There was nothing grey or foreboding. The city was beautiful, cosmopolitan, and colourful.
I checked the map app on my phone as our taxi passed through the tunnel under the River Spree.
“The theatre for our première is here, in Tiergarten,” Jack said, his fingers pinched on my phone screen making it zoom to show me a building called the Haus der Kulturen der Welt.
“Can we take a walk there after breakfast and check it out?” I asked as I turned to look at my companion. The desire that throbbed low in my belly was a constant ache. I’d never wanted anyone as desperately before.
“I’m your delightful tour guide, and your wish is my command, sir!” Jack grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I longed to reach out and pull him into a kiss, but not here in this taxi!
“Seriously though, there’s so much I want to show you. Three days won’t be enough time…we’ll look at the map properly after breakfast and plan our days, yeah,” he added.
For my safety, when I travelled for premières, Roz usually keeps me sequestered in the hotel and away from fans, so arriving in Berlin early and becoming an anonymous tourist was a novel experience.
The taxi pulled up outside the five-star Adler Kandinski hotel.
It was perfectly situated facing the iconic Brandenburg Gate.
During our taxi ride Jack and I discovered that Maritime Studios had gone all-out with their marketing campaign for our movie, with advertising on buses, and billboards featuring our giant faces, juxtaposed beside huge ads for the World Security Technology Conference.
According to my map app, the venue, the Axica Conference Centre was across the square.
The taxi driver provided a card reader and I tapped my credit card to pay for the ride while Jack helped the hotel porter retrieve our luggage from the trunk.
Jack and I followed the porter as he pushed a wheeled trolley with our luggage into the busy lobby.
The scents of strong coffee and pastries floated in from somewhere nearby and my tummy growled.
We headed for the reception counter and lined up behind a young Chinese woman who was flagged by two older men.
“We can take the cases from here,” I said as I gave the porter a tip.
He removed our cases and then returned to the entrance with his trolley.
Jack and I shared glances. “This place is way swankier than I expected,” he said in a whisper.
“I’ve stayed in some lovely hotels over the years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the star treatment! ”
“Get used to it…you’re running with the big boys now!” I grinned, and I meant it. Jack’s performance in the movie was world class and I wanted him to gain the global success he deserved. I knew people in the industry, and if I had my way, soon they’d know Jack Boyd.
Standee advertisements for the security tech conference were prominent in the busy hotel lobby and I figured that, with the venue being so close, the hotel would be booked out by delegates.
I’d played a white-hat hacker in FBI Cyber for one season and so I’d trained with a real-life hacker who taught me basic coding and hacker jargon so that I understood the script and could deliver my lines convincingly.
I was curious about the conference, the technology that would be showcased, and the kinds of people it was luring into the city.
Our marketing team deserved a standing ovation.
They’d chosen an inspired time and location to debut our spy movie!
When my thoughts came back to the present the young Chinese girl, with two stern-faced suited Chinese men was still being served at the counter.
“Here’s the keycard for your suite, Dr. Mai,” the clerk said in English, addressing the girl who looked way too young to be a doctor, but you never know!
“If you need anything, please call, we are happy to be of assistance,” the reception clerk said cordially.
The keycard was snatched from the girl’s hand by one of the men, who then said something in a sharp bark of Mandarin.
The young woman scowled resentfully as she stepped away from the counter and headed toward the elevators, the men trailing with suitcases.
Jack and I shared a quizzical look before we stepped forward.
“Hallo, meine Herren, willkommen im Hotel Adler-Kandinski, wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?“ the clerk said.
“Hi, we’re with the Maritime Studios party,” I began. The clerk’s name tag said Albert. He smiled, “Ah, American. I can speak English for you.” He tapped on his computer keyboard, then, his brow creased and he looked up,
“Oh, yes, we have the reservation, but it looks like you are not due to book-in until Thursday, sirs.”
Jack spoke up, “We’ve travelled on ahead.
Max Travers from the Freiberg Agency in London spoke with Elsa Braun at customer relations.
He reserved two executive rooms under the names Jack Timothy and Nate Hawkins for three nights with early check-in.
We’ll move to the rooms reserved for our party after that.
” The clerk nodded and continued tip-tapping on his keyboard. Jack leaned closer to me and said,
“I asked Lucy’s assistant to make sure we could check-in early with aliases and remain incognito during our stay.”
“I appreciate the effort, but, dude—our faces are on billboards and buses all over the city! I doubt we’ll be incognito for long.”
“Hmm…I didn’t anticipate that!”
The clerk at the computer beside Albert was dealing with another guest and I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. “I’m sorry Mr. Jorgen, there seems to be a mix-up,” she said. The clerk appeared harried as she turned to her colleague, Albert, and gave him a pained look.
“A moment please,” Albert said before the pair moved away from the front desk and had a tense whispered conversation before coming back to speak with us.
“Sirs, I’m so sorry,” he said addressing Jack, me, and the other man, Mr. Jorgen.
“There seems to have been an error with the bookings. I understand that Mr. Timothy and Mr. Hawkins reserved two executive rooms and Mr. Jorgen reserved a one room. We only have two executive rooms available. I do apologize for the inconvenience. The security tech conference has the hotel at capacity.”
“But the online booking app said that there was availability,” Jorgen said agitated, his accent of a Scandinavian flavour.
“Forgive me sir, but you made your reservation yesterday, Sunday, yes? It appears the booking app was not up-to-date. I’m afraid we are unable to honour the reservation. I can, of course, help you look for another hotel close by with availability.”
I stepped in, “No, no, that won’t be necessary. My friend and I can share a room. It’s okay, this gentleman can have the other one,” I offered without checking with Jack. I turned to him then and he cocked a salacious brow. “That’s okay, right?” I whispered.
“No bother at all,” he replied, a flash of lust in his eyes.
“Thank you so much sirs, panic over,” Albert grinned with relief.
“Okay, please fill in these forms and provide a form of ID and a credit card, then we can issue your keycards.” He placed two small tablets and pens for Jack and me, and the other receptionist, Clara, did the same for her guest. “We can, of course offer each of you a complementary dinner at one of our restaurants. Just let me know the details and I’ll arrange everything,” Albert simpered.
I swiftly filled out the form and provided my passport as ID and credit card. When I was done, the other man tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hi, thank you so much, I really appreciate you helping me out. I’m Hugh,” he said, offering his hand.
I shook it and met his green-eyed gaze. He seemed like a regular, ordinary guy, but then I realized what he’d said.
His first name is Hugh and his surname is Jorgen, so his name is, oh god!
Hugh Jorgen. I struggled to school my features and not burst into childish laughter.
“You here for the conference too, or is it need to know?” he asked and tapped his nose. I smiled, not quite sure if he’d recognized us and believed he was in on our secret.