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“You can trust me, Alma, I swear. And anyway, I signed a confidentiality clause when I was hired.”
We start driving, and the tension slowly begins to ease. Maximilian apologizes again and again. He seems sincere.
“It’s been twelve years, is that right?” he says.
“Max…”
“Sorry, I just want to understand him better.”
“Yes, twelve years without him,” I murmur, my head turned toward my window.
“Now that I know, I realize why he seems so different when you’re around.”
I look at him. “Different?”
“Yes. More human, you know? As if he takes off his CEO mask, so that he can truly be himself. I wonder how he was back then. When you met him.”
“Pretty much like now,” I smile despite myself.
“He had a difficult childhood, didn’t he?”
“Max, you’re going too far,” I warn.
“I’m sorry. I’m a naturally curious person, but I don’t mean any harm. I’m interested in people, that’s all. And I’m working on it,” he adds, to make me smile.
The GPS indicates we have fourteen more minutes. Max clearly knows how to navigate Parisian traffic, so I take the opportunity to relax a bit—and reverse the roles.
“Okay, now it’s my turn to be curious.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
“I might be wrong, but… I feel like you also mix your professional and personal life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Vadim.”
“What about Vadim?”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“What?!” he splutters. “Alma, I’m straight!”
His raucous laughter practically shakes the car.
“Sorry, sorry! I have a defective gaydar—my friend Niels tells me that all the time. It was just a feeling I had.”
“No problem.”
He’s still chortling.
I like Maximilian Finn.
But something tells me I should be wary of him.
34
Alma
