Greta Again! Read Free Page B

bank account simply didn’t allow one of these sinfully expensive shopping tours.
                Today, however, wasn’t one of those days!
                Greta had definitely decided to pamper herself and the credit card was already trembling in her hand. Mona had seen her arrive and waved. She had just finished with a customer at her counter and turned to her friend.
                “Greta, I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid that you would fall asleep with the whiskey on the couch.”
                “I did fall asleep –you have two wonderful roommates and your apartment is unbelievably comfortable. I immediately felt so at home. Many thanks for your trust. And for being there for me.”
                “Oh, don’t be so sentimental, Greta. You would do the same for me. Tell me, what woke you up?”
                “He called.”
                “Oh! And what did he say?” Mona opened her eyes wide, seemingly dumbfounded, her eyebrows rising in surprise.
                “He wants to meet me – and explain everything. It was something about his brother, Steve, again, and this time he couldn’t be there because. . .” – Greta looked around carefully and lowered her voice a little –“because of drugs and the police.” No, Mona, don’t ask. Mike wanted to see me today, actually, but I told him no. We’re meeting tomorrow for breakfast.”
                “Well, I really wonder what kind of story this will turn out to be. You know, it’s not love that’s complicated; it’s definitely the people involved.”
                “You’re absolutely right. And now to the important things in life: Which “must-haves” are waiting for us? Let’s shop and be happy for a while!”
                The evening played out as expected: the credit card was swiped again and again, at first still lukewarm, but quickly began smoking, having reached a fiery glow. This caused Greta and Mona’s broad smiles to become even broader. After Mona got off work, the girls made the rounds, two cocktails here and a snack there.  By 1:00 a.m. Greta was wiped out and wanted nothing but to go to bed. A few hours later she was to get up for breakfast. With him.
                Was he actually still “Mr. Right?”
                Mike had absolutely earned this title after the last evening  in Salzburg, with the private apartment overlooking the roofs of the city, the private dinner topped off by the incredibly delicious “Salzburger Nockerln,” and  with the many little surprises  (including in bed) that he had provided.
                But today Greta was no longer so sure if he really was the right one.  Once again he had left her hanging. And again because of his brother.  Basically, it seemed as if Steve came between them time and again and provoked one crisis after another.
                Or maybe there’s another woman? And I’m just too stupid and naïve to check up on him?
                The thoughts in Greta’s head whirled.
                The next morning (she had set the alarm; otherwise she would surely have overslept), Greta  shuffled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
                Absolute catastrophe!
                How can I pull myself together—even a little? Impossible – there’s not enough time.
                She decided to wash her hair and tie it together wet, into a topknot. A little make-up and the new clothes that she had bought yesterday with Mona, that should do the trick: DKNY jeans with a matching shirt – everything cut very skinny – “double-denim” is best for that,” Mona insisted. Greta wanted to wear a knit jacket with the denim, but Mona couldn’t be persuaded that anything other than a leather jacket with rivets would go with jeans .
                OK,