Fabienne was in the midst of her daily routine when her phone rang, interrupting her focus. The screen displayed an unknown number, but something tugged at her instincts. She answered, curious.
"Hey, who is this?" she asked, her tone professional yet guarded.
"I'm David Wenzel, and I need to hire you as my bodyguard. I browsed through a few profiles yesterday, and I think you might be the most trusted choice," the voice on the other end replied with urgency.
"Yes, I am Mr. Wenzel. It's great that you want to hire me. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?" Fabienne replied, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Yes. I need you to be in Zurich next week. I have to arrange some things and find a permanent residence there. Just remember, I'm hiring you now."
"Okay, I'll be there next week. I look forward to meeting you then."
"Me too. Your name is Fabienne Olner, right?"
"Yes, that's correct. It's a pleasure to meet you, David."
"Likewise. I'll call you back soon."
beep...
After the call, Fabienne returned to her workout. She hopped on the treadmill, the rhythm of her feet pounding against the belt echoing her rising adrenaline. The new client, the new city—it was all exhilarating. After her run, she transitioned to the punching bag, letting the weight of her fists release the pent-up energy from the call.
Just then, Florentin, her boss, entered the gym. "Hey, good news! Your ratings are skyrocketing. You're certified trusted, and honestly, tougher than ever," he said, a grin plastered across his face.
"Oh well, I just got a new client from Zurich. He's looking for a house, and I'll start next week. At least I'm prepared," she replied, her punches remaining focused and fierce.
"Lucky you. Seems like clients are lining up for you," Florentin mused, leaning against the wall.
Fabienne paused her training, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "And what about Henrik? Is he still without a client?"
"Still searching, but he'll get one soon. You just need to keep working hard," Florentin said, a hint of a lecture in his voice.
"Please, spare me the lecture," Fabienne shot back, rolling her eyes.
As she resumed her practice, Florentin lingered, and before she knew it, he was back with a bouquet of flowers in hand.
"What's this?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"I just wanted to appreciate you for your dedication. Nine years and you've been my most trusted employee," he said, his tone light but serious.
Fabienne crossed her arms. "So it's okay for you to flirt with your employee now? Is that how it works?"
"I can do whatever I want here. I'm the boss, and everyone trusts me. I plan to improve this company, once and for all," he replied, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.
"You don't need to make excuses. I admit, sometimes you're just annoying," she said dryly.
His laughter echoed around the room, but Fabienne remained emotionless. "Do you find that funny now?"
"Your saying I'm annoying? That's the first compliment you've given me! Usually, girls say I'm cute or handsome," he chuckled.
"I don't care about your looks. You could be as ugly as a gecko, for all I care," she retorted, throwing a punch at the bag with extra force.
"Come on, I know you like me. You're different from the other girls I meet at the bar," he grinned, undeterred.
"Go ahead, be with your wonderful girlfriends and make babies with them," she snapped, irritation flaring.
"Ugh, it's like you don't care at all," he said, feigning exasperation.
"Yep, I don't care, not even a little. But don't you dare ask me how I feel about you," she shot back, her tone final.
"What is it?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
"That you just want my attention. Don't worry; I'm not into serious relationships. I prefer being alone, without the drama," she said, her voice steady.
"That's why I like you even more. You're different," he replied, misreading her tone.
"Yuck, don't be so sentimental. You're not even that handsome. You're terrible at jokes," she said, dismissing him and walking away, feeling a mix of annoyance and relief at being alone again.
As Florentin walked out, Martin returned home, his mind swirling with thoughts of a kiss that lingered like a bittersweet memory. He made his way to his room, searching for comfort in old photographs.
Flashback
The year was 2014, and Martin was at Janina's birthday party, surrounded by laughter and camaraderie. The atmosphere was light, filled with anticipation as they waited for their friend Jasmin to arrive.
"Oh, I can't believe Jasmin is taking so long," Janina said, slicing the cake with a hint of impatience.
"She's probably late. I don't really know her that well," Martin replied, glancing at Janina as she danced.
"Trust me, you'll be happy to see her," Janina insisted, her excitement palpable.
"Yeah, well, it's been years since I've seen her. I barely remember what she looks like," Martin shrugged.
Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Jasmin with a bounty of food in her arms, a present for Janina. The room lit up with her presence.
"Hey Jasmin! I'm so glad you made it!" Janina exclaimed, rushing to embrace her friend.
Martin watched, feeling an inexplicable flutter in his chest as he observed the reunion.
"You look great!" Celine chimed in, welcoming Jasmin back to the fold.
"I'm just glad to be here," Jasmin said, her voice steady despite the warmth around her.
"Let's make this night unforgettable," Janina declared, and soon, the air was charged with laughter and the promise of memories to be made.
As Martin recalled that night, the kiss he shared with Janina lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of feelings long past.
Flashback ended
With a sigh, Martin closed the photo album, the weight of nostalgia heavy on his heart, When he remembers it then he just throws the picture when he remembers the time when he was walking in the park along with Jasmin.
Five months ago, the sun bathed the park in a warm glow as Martin and Jasmin strolled leisurely, cotton candy in hand. The sweet, sugary treat melted on their tongues, filling the air with the carefree laughter of their shared moment.
"Hey Jasmin, what are you planning to do next?" Martin asked, his voice light with curiosity, the happiness of the day reflected in his eyes.
Jasmin shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in her expression. "I don't know. I've been thinking about solving crimes or something. It feels like that's what I always end up doing."
Martin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And I'm sure I want to know what your plan is for your child. You can't just brush it off like it doesn't matter. Are you going to tell Dirk about this?"
She rolled her eyes, dismissing the thought. "Come on, they don't need a father like him. Besides, they only need one mom. I can be both for them."
Martin sighed, remembering how much Jasmin had sacrificed. "After all you've done being a bodyguard, I miss Janina too. I'm glad you talk to her, but I can't. I have so many questions about her."
"What kind of questions?" Jasmin asked, curiosity piqued.
"Questions that linger, like why she lied about what happened when she started working with Dirk, and about her first love. Doesn't that seem unfair?"
"Unfair? How so?" Jasmin queried, her brow furrowing.
"It's unfair to love someone who's been lying to you for so long. It feels like you never truly knew them."
"I think you're right. But there must have been a reason for Janina's choices. I don't believe she's a bad person. What happened with Henrik was a mistake, and he didn't tell you the truth either."
"Maybe you're right. I just wish I hadn't married Janina if I had known this would happen."
"Don't be sad," Jasmin said, her tone softening. "I'm here for you. We're together now, remember? You've always supported me, and now you want to support my child."
"Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me," he replied, a smile breaking through his earlier worry as he reached for her hand.
Suddenly, the scene shifted. Martin found himself sitting on his bed, lost in thought. A strange feeling for Jasmin lingered in his heart, but the moment was interrupted when Celine walked in, her concern evident.
"What's wrong, Martin?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
"I've just been thinking a lot," he replied honestly, the weight of his thoughts heavy.
"What kind of things? If you're still thinking about Janina, maybe we can get her reasons. It's not easy finding out your wife has been lying."
"No, it's not that. Why did you come here?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation away.
"I was planning to visit and have a reunion with our former colleagues," she said, her energy unwavering.
"I don't think I have time for that," he replied, a hint of frustration creeping in.
"Why not? This is a chance to reconnect. Don't tell me you can't come because of some nonsense reason."
"I need to help Jasmin," he insisted. "She has two babies and doesn't know how to handle it. She's struggling."
"Why are you so concerned about Jasmin?" Celine pressed, surprised by his dedication.
"She has schizophrenia. She can't tell right from wrong. I can't let her make mistakes, especially in parenting. She needs support," he explained, passion igniting his words.
"I didn't realize you cared so much," Celine said, her surprise evident.
"I'm worried about her. After Janina's suicide, she's been lost. It's hard for her to cope," he confessed, his heart heavy with the burden of loss.
"I know, and I'm worried too. Janina cared about her as well," Celine replied, her tone softening.
"I'm helping her with her treatment. She needs someone, and I'm here for her," Martin stated firmly.
"Doesn't that mean you're falling for Jasmin?" Celine teased, a playful smile on her face.
"No, I'm not! What are you talking about?" he replied, flustered.
"I'm just saying, you care about her a lot. It seems like more than just friendship." Celine's grin widened, enjoying the moment.
Martin shook his head, trying to dismiss her teasing. "You just love to poke fun at me, don't you?"
"Maybe," she laughed, but the concern in her eyes remained. "Just be careful, Martin. Emotions can be tricky."
At home, Alody was lounging on the couch, the soft glow of the TV flickering in the dimly lit living room. She was lost in a world of reality shows when Walter walked in, his usual confident smile lighting up the space around him.
"Alody," he began, a hint of excitement in his voice, "I'm sure you don't want to stay here without a job. I think I finally found something for you."
"What kind of job?" Alody asked, turning her attention from the screen, her curiosity piqued.
"A job that Judith offered me. I told her that you're looking for work and that I trust you completely. You just need to trust me; I can help you get some solid opportunities this time."
"Oh, I'd be so excited for that! I just hope the people at my first job are friendly this time," she replied with a hint of hope.
"They will be, I promise. You'll be working with Judith's sister, Leonie."
"That's great! I think you know her well, but I'm not sure how I feel about working with someone," Alody admitted, her discomfort evident.
"Why's that?" Walter probed, genuinely curious.
"I'm just sensitive, and people often don't understand why I am the way I am. But I can manage; you don't have to worry about me," she reassured him.
"I know they'll be nice. This is your chance for a fresh start. You'll just need to polish your resume and maybe show them your school ID if needed."
"Don't worry, I won't forget the requirements for starting a job. But what kind of company does her dad own?" Alody asked, her interest growing.
"It's a supermarket."
"What? But I don't want to be a cashier! That seems ridiculous to me. I need a job, yes, but not that one," she exclaimed, a mix of frustration and resignation in her voice.
"I understand, but I'm not sure what else you can do there," Walter replied, trying to remain supportive.
"I could help clean or do something else! I can do what anyone else can do, just not be a cashier," she insisted.
"Okay, I'll talk to Judith about it. She mentioned needing a cashier and thought you could handle it," he said, maintaining his encouraging tone.
"Sorry, Walter, but I'm not good with money. That's why I hate math," she said, shaking her head with a smile.
Their conversation took a light turn, and Alody felt more at ease after talking with Walter.
Just then, Jasmin came tumbling down the stairs, her clumsiness evident as she tried to sway over to the stairway. Walter chuckled nervously, unsure how to respond.
"Um... I'm glad you're here, Jasmin," he said, offering her a tentative smile.
"Oh, I was just going to attempt a stunt, but never mind," Jasmin said, brushing herself off and trying to play it cool.
"Do you want anything?" Walter asked, eager to change the subject.
"Nope. I was just going to do something important. I need to find a better job," Jasmin replied, determination flashing in her eyes.
"Maybe it's best you stay here for now and take care of the kids," Walter suggested, trying to be practical.
"That's not my only role! I need a job too! You and that wheelchair girl have jobs now, and Alody is getting one too. I want a real job!" Jasmin shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Are you saying you want a permanent job?" Walter asked, trying to understand.
"Yes! A permanent one! I can't just sit around here. It's not easy to make money!" she exclaimed, her voice rising.
"But Jasmin, please don't steal money from them. I'm trying to help you make your life better. Don't you want that?" Walter urged gently.
"Staying here like a gossipy mother who can't do anything? I'm different! I need to find a job, Walter!" Jasmin retorted, her voice filled with urgency.
"I don't want to argue with you. I'm just trying to recommend what's best for you. Finding a job right now isn't the answer," he replied, frustration creeping in.
"It is, Walter! Do you think I can't do anything just because they think I'm crazy? They're wrong, and I'll prove it!" she declared defiantly.
"What? I didn't want to argue about this now," Walter said, feeling the tension rise.
"Sometimes you just love to argue with me! Ever since you started spending time with that wheelchair girl, everything has changed," Jasmin snapped.
"Hey! You can't say that! Judith is different, and I won't compare her to anyone else. I haven't changed since I met her. But you... you're always like this!" Walter shot back.
"With Martin? This has nothing to do with him!" Jasmin replied, her face flushed. "He's just supportive."
"Is he really just supportive?" Walter pressed.
"What else do you think it is? He's just there for me, not a freaking recorder!" she shouted, her frustration boiling over.
"I just want to know if you're really okay. I'm trying to do what's best for you," he said, feeling helpless.
"Really, Walter? Just stop controlling me. I can do this on my own," she said defiantly, turning to leave.
Alody observed the heated exchange, her curiosity piqued. "Did she not change her clothes?" she wondered aloud, feeling a sudden awkwardness in the air. The tension in the living room seemed to thicken, a silent acknowledgment of the struggles they all faced.
Then Jasmin was going to the mall, but she was still expecting to find a job. Determined to make her day worthwhile, she decided to visit the clothing store. As she looked around, her eyes caught the glint of a camera aimed directly at the cashier.
Annoyance washed over her. This was going to be trickier than she thought. She scanned the store, waiting for the right moment to act. Finally, she spotted a woman heading into the dressing room with a blouse. Jasmin's heart raced; this was her chance.
Inside the dressing room, she saw the woman had only tried on the blouse. With a swift motion, Jasmin tucked it into her bag. But she wasn't done yet. In a moment of twisted creativity, she pulled out a can of soda she had converted into a gas canister, cleverly covered with aluminum foil.
With a matchstick in hand, she lit it and let the gas leak out, a reckless plan forming in her mind. Leaving the dressing room, she noticed an unusual smell wafting through the store. Ignoring it, she made her way to the jeans section, where rows of denim beckoned her.
"Oh Timo, I can imagine...seriously, you're there for me," she mumbled to herself, half-laughing, half-nervous.
In a bizarre moment, she leaned in to kiss a mannequin, thinking it would be funny. But the onlookers were horrified, and just as she was about to go for a French kiss, an old woman fainted at the sight. Jasmin chuckled, moving the mannequin closer to the shelves, her mind racing with plans of theft.
She opened her bag slightly, reaching for a few pairs of jeans, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Just as she was about to slip out of the store, she bumped into someone unexpectedly.
"Hey! It's been a long time since we last met, Janina...I mean Jasmin," Henrik said, his face lighting up with surprise.
"Oh, now we meet again, Henrik. Do you want me to remind you who I am again? Well, you know who I am... And don't expect a treat from me, unless you want to be stuck in the tub again," Jasmin laughed, but the humor faded quickly, leaving Henrik looking uneasy.
"Other than that, I remember you used to work with me, and we were at Dirk's house. I want to thank you," he continued, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
"For what?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Thank you for bringing justice for Janina. The Heinen family needed that, you know?"
Jasmin looked away, her heart heavy. "I wish Janina were alive to see what I'm doing for her."
"Anyway, what are you doing here?" Henrik pressed.
"Just standing, as you can see," she replied curtly.
"Not literally! I mean, are you buying something?"
"Well, I was doing my job," she said, a smirk creeping back.
"What kind of job? Are you a janitress?"
"No," she shot back, "I'm doing something different. The kind of job I really want is to work with people."
"Good to hear. It's nice to see you," he replied, attempting to keep the conversation light.
"Can you treat me to something delicious somewhere else? Not here," she said, her tone shifting.
"Sure! I know a place," he said eagerly, leading her to a nearby coffee shop.
Once there, he ordered a large coffee, muffin, and cream puffs, trying to impress her. "So, this is how I treat you. I always thought Janina would love this place."
"Really, Henrik? I wonder why I didn't know that. But at least I can talk to Janina sometimes," Jasmin said casually.
"Talk to her? How? Can you see ghosts?" he asked jokingly.
"No, not like that! I see her every day. People think I'm insane, but it's better than visiting her grave and crying."
"Lucky you, I guess. I haven't seen Janina since... well, since everything happened. I wish she could see her son again," he sighed.
"What was your son's name again?" Jasmin asked, intrigued.
"Tobias."
"That's a nice name. It feels like so much has changed since she's been gone."
"True. But why do you look like Janina now?" he questioned, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Long story. I was in a car accident that destroyed my face, so I had surgery and decided to look like her. I feel dedicated to her," she explained, her eyes clouding with memories.
"Now it all makes sense. How did you know Martin?" he asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into his tone.
"Why do you ask? How do you know him?" she replied defensively.
"I know him. He used to work as Wilfred's personal driver."
"Okay, I know him too. He always supported me, even when I didn't say he had to."
Henrik nodded, his expression softening. "Great talking with you."
As they continued their conversation, Jasmin took a big bite of her muffin, oblivious to Henrik's growing affection. He leaned in, attempting to kiss her, but she caught him off guard.
"Oh...sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he stammered.
"What were you trying to do, Henrik? It's okay, I know boys fall for sex," she teased.
"No, no...sorry, that won't happen again," he said, his face turning crimson.
Jasmin simply sipped her coffee, a playful smile on her lips, while Henrik couldn't help but glance at her, his heart racing.