Page 19 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Johan

I wake up with a start, my head pounding and my mouth dry as sandpaper. The unfamiliar ceiling above me is the first clue that I’m not in my own bed. I turn my head slowly, and my eyes widen in shock as I see Astrid lying beside me, her hair splayed out on the pillow, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Panic surges through me. My thoughts race, piecing together fragmented memories from the night before. I had promised Hannah that no matter what, I wouldn’t have sex anymore with Astrid. Yet here I am, waking up beside that bitch, the morning sunlight casting a harsh glare on my worst fears.

I lift the edge of the covers and realize with a jolt that I’m only in my boxers. My heart hammers in my chest, and I struggle to keep my voice steady as I turn to Astrid. “Did we…?”

She chuckles softly, a sound that grates on my nerves. “You passed out last night. The staff found you sleeping in the garden and brought you up here. I thought you might be more comfortable without your tuxedo on.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s quickly replaced by a different kind of panic as Astrid shifts closer, her hand trailing down my chest. “But we can start now...” she purrs, her intention clear.

I leap out of bed, nearly tripping over the sheets in my haste. “I don’t feel well. I need to drink some coffee.” My voice is shaky, my mind still reeling from the events of the previous night.

Astrid’s laugh follows me as I grab some clothes and head to the bathroom, desperate for a moment alone. The shower is a brief respite, the hot water scalding away the remnants of my hangover. I dress quickly, take my phone from the nightstand, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen.

Lauren, the butler, is there, bustling around with an air of efficiency. She looks up as I enter and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Good morning, sir. Would you like some coffee?”

“Please,” I say, my voice still rough. I take the offered cup, the bitter liquid doing wonders to clear my foggy mind.

“Go and sit at the table in the dining room. I’ll bring you a proper breakfast,” Lauren instructs, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I nod and make my way to the dining room, finding Ludovic at the head of the table, finishing his breakfast, and reading the news. He looks up as I enter, a faint smile on his lips.

“I didn’t know newspapers were still a thing,” I say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Ludovic laughs, folding the paper neatly. “I’m old school.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Slept well?”

I nod, although it’s far from the truth. Lauren arrives with a plate piled high with fried eggs, crispy bacon, plump sausages, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, and a slice of buttered toast. The aroma is rich and inviting, making my stomach growl despite my unease.

“There will be a dinner on Monday with the ambassador of Oman. Would you like to join us? It might be worth meeting him,” Ludovic says casually. “We need him to place a good word for us back in Muscat for the permits.”

I shake my head, trying to muster a polite smile. “You’ll manage just fine without me.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the clink of cutlery and the rustle of the newspaper as Ludovic reads. Finally, he looks up again, his expression thoughtful.

“Have you thought about my proposal?” he asks, his tone neutral but with an underlying current of expectation.

I heave a sigh, setting down my fork. “I can only start after Professor Kimberly comes back. Until then, I need to teach that class.”

Ludovic waves a hand dismissively. “I can find someone to replace you, don’t worry.”

I think further, weighing my options. Despite not liking the idea, I know this expedition could be important. “When would you like to go to Oman?”

“Mid-January will be good. We should have the permits issued by then,” Ludovic replies, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

I nod, my mind drifting back to the kiss I saw between Hannah and Conrad. The image plays on a loop, stirring a mixture of jealousy and regret. I start to wonder if they had sex last night, the thought gnawing at me.

As I push my food around on my plate, Ludovic watches me with an inscrutable expression. “Is there anything else on your mind, Johan?”

I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No, just... thinking about the future.”

“Good.” Ludovic finishes his coffee, takes his newspaper with him, and stands up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve to go and plan for mine,” he says with a wry smile.

He nods at me, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, before making his way out of the dining room. I watch him go, the weight of our earlier conversation still lingering in the air.

With Ludovic gone, I settle back into my chair, savoring the calm and the delicious meal in front of me.

The fried eggs are perfectly cooked, the yolks just the right amount of runny.

The bacon is crispy, the sausages juicy, and the grilled tomatoes add a hint of sweetness that balances the richness of the meal.

The baked beans and buttered toast complete the plate, and I take my time, enjoying each bite.

But minutes later, I’m interrupted by the vibration of my phone on the table.

I pick it up and see a message from Hannah. My heart skips a beat as I open it.

Hannah: Meeting Amelia tonight. Can you join?

A wave of relief and excitement washes over me, thinking of meeting her again. I owe her an apology for last night, and nothing better than doing so face-to-face. I quickly type a response.

Johan: Did you get the file?

Hannah: Of course.

I frown, wondering how this could be possible if I had the files in my hand yesterday.

Johan: Where and what time?

The minutes feel like hours as I wait for her response. Finally, my phone buzzes again.

Hannah: Amelia suggested we meet at her flat on Granta Place. It’s quiet and secluded, perfect for a discreet meeting. 7 p.m..

I quickly type my reply.

Johan: Sounds good. See you there.

As I put my phone back down and finish my breakfast, I realize how tricky it’s going to be to escape Astrid tonight. She must be expecting me to spend the evening with her, especially since it’s the weekend. I need a believable excuse, something that would keep her from asking too many questions.

Conrad. I can tell her I’m going to be with Conrad. We do need to talk, and it’s the perfect cover. First, though, I need to call him to apologize for my behavior yesterday. Only then can I set up a meeting.

I stare at my phone for a moment, gathering the courage to make the call. My thumb hovers over Conrad’s name before I finally press it. The phone rings, and with each passing second, my nerves intensify. What if he doesn’t pick up? What if he’s still angry?

Just as I’m about to give up, Conrad answers. “Hey, mate, it’s Johan.”

There’s a pause, then he replies, his tone guarded. “Johan. What’s up?”

I swallow hard, my words catching in my throat. “Listen, about yesterday… I was out of line. I’m really sorry for what I said and how I acted.”

There’s a moment of silence, and I wonder if he’s going to hang up on me. But then he sighs. “Yeah, you were. But I appreciate the apology.”

“Thanks. I was hoping we could meet up and talk face-to-face. Maybe around six at your place?”

“Alright,” he agrees, his voice softer. “We can do that.”

As I hang up, I feel a small weight lift off my shoulders. But then I hear footsteps approaching. Astrid. She walks over, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Who were you talking to?” she asks, her voice suspicious.

I want to tell her to fuck off and stop being nosy, but instead, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “To Conrad. He’s not doing well. I might pass by to visit him later.”

She doesn’t say a word. Instead, Astrid circles around me, her eyes watching me closely.

She’s wearing a silk robe that clings to her curves, her blonde hair cascading in waves over her shoulders.

Standing behind my chair, her hands slip under my shirt, stroking my chest. “Looks like we have the whole house to ourselves…” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear.

I don’t want any of this. I stand up abruptly, nearly knocking my chair over. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to go.”

“Where?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

I scramble for an excuse, my mind racing. “I promised my dad we’d go on a horse ride today.”

Her face lights up with excitement. “Can I go too?”

I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek, forcing a smile. “Sorry, it’s really just a father-son thing.”

As I walk up the stairs, she follows me, her persistence grating on my nerves. “I can stay with your mom. She’s lovely.”

I stop halfway up the stairs, turning to face her. “My mom has plans today. Tomorrow, we can do something together, okay?”

She continues to follow me, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Fine, send me a video of the two of you. I’d love to see you riding with your dad.”

I know she’s saying this to keep tabs on me, to control me. I’m so damn tired of her. I swear to myself that I’ll find a way out of this sooner rather than later.

Finally reaching her room, I close the door and lean against it, trying to gather my thoughts. I have a plan for tonight, but I need to make sure everything goes smoothly.

Meeting Conrad first will be a good way to start things off, and then I’ll meet Hannah and Amelia.

I move to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face.

The shock of it helps clear my mind, but the anxiety lingers.

I grab my phone and keys, hesitating for a moment as I look at the door.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the room and make my way downstairs.

Astrid is in the living room, flipping through a magazine.

She looks up as I pass by, her brown eyes narrowing slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“See you later,” I say, keeping my tone light.

She watches me, her eyes narrowed slightly, but she says nothing.

I make my way to the door, feeling her gaze on my back the entire time.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the house and head towards my car, my mind still clouded with the remnants of my hangover.

The crisp, fresh air outside is a welcome change from the stifling tension inside.

I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, the familiar purr of the car giving me a small sense of comfort.