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Juri

I returned to the familiar routine that had proven itself over the years before my brief foray into the world of gastronomy.

My week always started on Thursday and lasted until Tuesday.

I worked a lot. Depending on bookings, I could serve up to three clients a day.

But as much as I tried to distract myself with work, I rarely scheduled multiple bookings in a week.

I preferred giving my full attention to one client per day rather than rushing through them by the hour.

Furthermore, I tried to hit the gym at least three times a week.

While I was far from being a muscle hunk, in my line of work, it was important to look good naked.

So, it didn’t hurt to shape the body with some strength training and keep it active with cardio.

Endurance was not to be underestimated, after all.

I knew I should have gotten a new apprenticeship as soon as possible, but I had no idea in which field.

Plus, at my age, it was better to have a recommendation letter to even get a foot in the door.

But with my resume, that wasn’t so easy.

Even if I lied, I couldn’t make myself six years younger, just to cover up the gap in my CV.

So, with every client I met, I pondered whether I could possibly ask them for a reference letter.

And so, a busy week flew by, and I begrudgingly admitted to myself that I had thought about Luca at least 164 times.

I just can’t stop thinking about him. The scene of the platinum blond prince catching me like a fair maiden played repeatedly in my mind.

Just remembering the moment made me feel the crackle between us again.

I wanted to puke at the cheesiness of it all.

And yet, a smile crept onto my face every time I thought of him.

I convinced myself that it was because of his rock-hard body, which I had felt under his beige sweater.

How can he be so fit?

It seemed like I was a lightweight to him.

This guy keeps getting more interesting.

When I locked the door behind me on Monday evening to meet a client, I encountered Romero in the stairwell.

“Juri! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about? I didn’t get any messages.”

“But of course! I’ve called you at least three times a day since Thursday!”

“Nonsense!” I said, glancing at my phone. “There’s nothing here.”

Romero held out his phone to me. “Here! See?!”

“It says Juri D. I’m Juri V.! Dammit, Romero!”

“ Mierda ! But I also knocked on your door! You were never there!”

I rolled my eyes. “What’s so important?”

“You haven’t heard?!” Romero looked surprised. “Where have you been hiding? Dana is dead.”

Suddenly, everything inside me froze, and an icy wave flooded my veins.

Dana.

Noé’s mother.

Dead?

“What? No, that can’t be,” I started to say, then paused. Given Dana’s hardcore junkie status, it seemed like a completely absurd statement.

“I was at the funeral on Thursday.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” I snapped at Romero. “Damn it! What’s wrong with you?”

“I tried to reach you. And why didn’t Guapo do it himself?”

“You know how he is!”

“Then just go to him. He’s probably at home.”

“Fuck! I have to go to work,” I cursed and left Romero behind.

On the way to my client, I tried incessantly to reach Noé, but he didn’t pick up, so I sent him messages. One after another.

“Stoney! Just heard what happened. Call me back!”

“Bro! Where are you?”

“I’m worried!”

“About to meet a client, but I’ll get back to you.”

I hoped so much that he was okay. But none of my messages showed the two blue check marks indicating that Noé had read them, and panic gradually crept over me.

Does he have that damn privacy setting on?

That wouldn’t be like him at all.

With the phone to my ear, I stood in front of the hotel entrance.

“Pick up, damn it!” I ranted into the phone.

But I knew: Noé didn’t want to be found.

Plus, I knew him too well to know how he dealt with stressful situations.

He withdrew and tried not to lose it. I just hoped he pulled through and didn’t crash.

As my client Heiner approached from a distance, I reluctantly ended the call to focus on work. Yet thoughts of Noé persisted, causing me to be distracted. After a prolonged internal struggle, I eventually allowed Luca to reclaim my attention. With that decision, everything felt more manageable.

Focusing my thoughts on him made me calm and able to focus on my work. Imagining him in front of me while the CEO of a private bank fucked me made Monday bearable. I even enjoyed the thought that it was Luca taking me from behind.

Maybe Clé wasn’t entirely wrong when he said it would be good for me to meet more people my age.

Although I couldn’t quite understand what he got out of his role as a matchmaker, because one thing was clear: Once Luca found out how I earned my money, a bubble would burst. The way he still looked at me now, he certainly wouldn’t regard me the same way after that.

Yet I liked how he looked at me in his own distant way.

There was a passion in his eyes that seemed mysterious and attractive to me.

I was on my way home when I stopped dead in my tracks on the sidewalk and paused. He must not find out how I earn my money. He’ll surely bombard me with questions tomorrow. I have to be careful what I say.

I had already sensed Luca’s persistence.

Despite his dreamy expression, the guy knew exactly what he wanted.

And from what I had come to know about him, he would do anything to get it.

And somehow, I had to admit, that was exactly what attracted me to him.

The way his eyes sparkled when he saw me made me feel like the only person on earth.

And then he even caught me when I almost fell down the stairs. A true gentleman.

As cheesy as the moment had been, in the moment when I saw the silver specks in his eyes, I wished it would never end.

It was already ten o’clock and there was hardly anyone left on Langstrasse.

But I took the detour to stop by Noé’s place, careful not to run into my dad.

I rang the doorbell for a long time, but no one answered.

Even if Noé had been sleeping, the annoying sound would have been hard to ignore. But it was clear that Noé wasn’t home.

Maybe he’s with Tom , I reassured myself and headed home. Too bad I didn’t have Tom’s number.