More Than Expected

By Gabriela-Elena MECH

Ema and Bruno, two young people who have their careers as their only refuge in the absence of a successful personal life, meet each other in Romania at the conference of the multinational company they both work for. She works in Bucharest and he in Zurich.

Although they meet for business, they start developing feelings for each other, and when they say good-bye in the airport, they both hope they will meet again. This happens sooner than imagined because the air traffic is blocked by a volcanic eruption in Iceland, and Bruno finds himself unable to fly home. The evening they unexpectedly come to spend together is the beginning of a beautiful story. But its thread is broken off by an unfortunate car accident that turns their lives upside down.

Exciting, likable characters come into scene with their own secrets, which will eventually come to the surface. Their attempts to properly set the level of their expectations on the frail border between the beauty of their dreams and the fear of losing them and getting hurt take the reader through a story full of unexpected turns, with joy and pain, hope and disappointment, love and restraint.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477246788

Gabriela-Elena MECH

Gabriela-Elena MECH was born in 1970 in a small town in Transylvania, Romania, and she has bachelors degrees in mathematics and management. She lives in Bucharest and currently holds the position of marketing communication manager in an American multinational. Photo on the Cover www.stefandumitru.ro

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© 2012 by Gabriela-Elena MECH. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/19/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4677-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4678-8 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

>Endnotes

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To Iuliana, my wonderful daughter, to my parents

and my friends, for encouraging me to write

this book and for believing in me.

And to all my readers.

May your lives always be sprinkled with

more than expected moments!

Special thanks

First, I would like to express my gratitude to Carol Marsh for her priceless help with the editing of the English version of this book. She did this for free, because she has a big heart and I hope, because she enjoyed the story. I must say that this token of kindness and appreciation made me feel honored. Thank you so much, Carol, for everything!

My thanks also go to all those who read the book—family and friends. Thank you all for your support! You gave me the confidence to continue with this project.

They say that when you plan to do something important, you should spread the word with your friends; you then have no choice but to proceed, you can’t disappoint them!

I can tell you that this is good advice for everybody who wishes to accomplish their dreams. Tell your friends about your plans! They won’t let you give up, no matter what obstacles come your way.

CHAPTER 1

Ema glanced at her watch. She had now been waiting at Henri Coanda Airport for three hours.

She was there to meet people coming to Bucharest from eight different European countries. They were arriving to attend the company conference that was to be held in Sinaia this time. In her hands, she held a cardboard sign with the logo of the multinational company she worked for on it, to make it easier for the guests to identify her. They were her colleagues who were in charge of the sales and marketing departments from the other countries in the group, but there were also representatives of top management from the Frankfurt headquarters among them.

This was the first time the conference would be taking place in Romania and Ema was responsible for organizing it. More than twenty participants were expected and their flights had landed one by one at about twenty-minute intervals. There was only one of them still to arrive. Bruno Christen—Ema read the last name on her list, which had been left unchecked.

She had no idea what the man she was to welcome looked like. Those who had already arrived knew each other and were enjoying time together in the airport coffee shop.

But none of them had met Bruno Christen—the Sales Director from Switzerland—before.

He had only joined the company recently. He was due to arrive from Zurich, alone, as the colleague who was supposed to join him had fallen ill, had advised them that he would no longer be coming to the conference.

Waiting for his flight to land, Ema hoped that he would be observant enough to notice the logo on the cardboard in her hands.

I have good news for you, she heard Carl say as he drew near, smiling at her.

Carl was a member of the headquarters team in Frankfurt and two hours before, immediately after his flight had landed, he had taken over the group, leaving Ema to deal only with the guests who were still to arrive.

On his phone screen, he showed her the face, lit by a discreet smile, of a dark-haired man with hazelnut eyes, who looked to be over thirty. She glanced at the picture and then looked back at Carl in bafflement.

This is our colleague, Bruno Christen! he explained. I’ve found his online profile. In case you might want to know what the man you are about to meet looks like! he said, smiling.

Ema suddenly became interested and took a longer look at the picture, trying to keep the man’s face in her memory.

Nice man! she summed up in her mind. Thanks, she said, giving Carl a big smile.

I’ve also come to tell you that we have just left the coffee shop and we are on our way to the coach. We’ll be waiting for you there, he assured her, pointing to the parking lot where the coach was waiting to take them to Sinaia.

Now she was on her own again. But at least she had an idea of what Bruno Christen looked like. She knew he was dark haired. He looked cute, in fact, unexpectedly cute, she had to admit assuming that the picture Carl had found on the Internet was up-to-date.

The flight from Zurich was now announced in the air traffic arrivals table and Ema went closer to the railing that marked the edge of the corridor. She hoped that this would make it easier for Bruno to spot her.

Ema was thirty-two, but she was slim and good looking and this made people think she was four or five years younger. Her dark brown hair, which she had carefully combed in the morning, now felt ruffled and she felt as if her eyes were bloodshot because of the intense effort she had made over the past three hours to identify the arriving passengers.

She leaned her elbows against the railing and, although she couldn’t hold the cardboard sign as high as before, she felt a surge of relaxation. It was much better now.

Her cell phone beeped, letting her know she had just received a text message, and she lowered her eyes to read it. It was Carl, telling her that he had gathered the entire group by the coach.

The very next minute, somebody touched her hand lightly and when she looked up she saw a young man who shook her hand from across the railing.

Bruno Christen. Nice meeting you! the man said in English, in a warm voice.

She could barely conceal her surprise. He looked even better in the flesh than in the photo Carl had found on the Internet! He smiled at her and she noted his cream-colored suit, which contrasted somewhat exotically with his slightly swarthy skin. Actually, he was more than good looking—he was really attractive: tall, slender, dark-haired, with smiling brown eyes.

Ema Carp! she introduced herself, confirming the young man’s assumption while shaking his hand. Nice meeting you too, she said the next moment, still taken aback by his appearance.

She was at a loss for words. She had been so intent on welcoming him and he had arrived at the very moment she was reading the message on her cell phone.

How was your flight? she asked when they met at the end of the railing.

Quite good. Have you been waiting for a long time?

I’ve been here for several hours now since I had to wait for everybody in the group, she answered kindly, appreciating his melodious voice.

Is there anybody else to come?

No. Everyone’s here now. The rest of our group is waiting for us in the parking area.

So, I was the last to arrive? And you’ve all been waiting for me? he sounded embarrassed.

"Someone was bound to arrive last," she said smiling.

He glanced at her, sideways, as they walked on. She came up to his shoulders and had a sort of suppleness that helped her move effortlessly. Her shoulder-level brown hair glistened in the spring sun, which shone through the large windows of the arrivals terminal. Her voice and intonation were as warm and pleasant as the sunlight playing in her hair. She had beautiful features, white skin, and a sweet and kind smile. The dark-blue, almond-shaped eyes gave her face a certain distinction, even though they were bloodshot with fatigue. In fact, that was exactly the thing that had won over Bruno’s sympathy, as he knew she had got tired while waiting at the airport. And, he had to admit, he was largely to blame for this. Of all the guests, he had kept her waiting the longest time.

Where shall we go now? he asked, trying not to stare at her, but unable to stop looking at her.

She had already sent him all the details by email, but he felt like making some small talk. When Ema looked at him, she caught his eyes again and admired his regular features.

We shall go directly to Sinaia she said.

I was wondering whether there was any chance of including a short visit in our schedule, he ventured to say. Since I am in Bucharest, I would like to see the People’s Palace.

Ema pursed her lips in disappointment, as she knew there was no room for this in their schedule. But she didn’t want to crush all his hopes and preferred to leave room for a hypothetical possibility.

Maybe on Saturday, when we come back from Sinaia, in case you still have time before your flight takes off.

My return flight leaves at 2 pm.

I think that would be a little difficult in this case. I’m sorry, she said, pursing her lips again and thus admitting there was no chance of arranging such a visit.

Maybe some other time, he replied, resigned, and Ema smiled at him, sympathetically.

They left the building and headed to the parking area. It was April but the weather was already very beautiful and the golden sun made everything seem brighter. After more than three hours of waiting there, Ema now felt relaxed. Everything had gone as planned. The group was now complete and they were ready to leave for Sinaia, where they would spend the next three days.

Of all the people she had welcomed at the airport, Carl was the only one Ema had met before. She had known him for over a year. He was a refined man who emanated some sort of toned-down dignity, tall and slender, with white skin and blond hair that betrayed his northern origins. He was about thirty-eight and he was one of the two vice presidents of the company. Carl worked at the headquarters in Frankfurt and went to visit each country within the group twice a year. Given his relatively frequent visits and his friendly nature, he was very popular and well liked. Ema knew that he was married and the very happy father of two sons.

During the ride to Sinaia Ema did her best to be a good host to her guests, but she left Bruno more in Carl’s care. The two of them seemed to get along very well and she thought it best not to barge in. Still, she had to admit, at least to herself, that she felt a strange and inexplicable need to keep away from Bruno.

Something that had happened one year before crossed her mind. She’d been spending a few days in a mountain resort with a friend and, as they were having a walk around, they suddenly saw a stray dog following them. At first they were frightened, but they soon realized that the dog posed no threat to them. It walked on the other side of the road, rushing a few steps ahead and waiting patiently every time the girls stopped to pick flowers or take photos. Still, whenever the dog stopped to wait for them, it did so with its back turned to them, trying to avoid the impression that it was spying on them—just in case such a thought might have crossed the girls’ minds. It stood there and waited for them submissively. Then, when it saw them moving again, it also set off, walking in front of them and keeping its distance.

It was strange how she had remembered this dog, at that very moment. Perhaps she had the same feeling the dog had had. She wanted to give the impression that she was not following anyone in particular. She just cast a glance every now and then, to make sure that everybody in the group was doing fine. Of course, Bruno also deserved the occasional glance.

As they were getting close to Sinaia, the impressive landscape of the Prahova Valley was revealed. The woods on the mountain slopes displayed their freshness in shades of raw green, while in the cloudless blue sky the sun cast rays of light that splintered into thousands of glittering stars when they hit the surface of the mountain river flowing boisterously by the roadside.

After a two-hour ride, the coach stopped in front of the hotel, right at the edge of the forest.

Before seven o’clock they were all down for dinner. Mihai Panait was also there.

He had left Bucharest during the morning, by car. Mihai was the marketing director for Romania and Ema reported directly to him. He was a person of distinctive quality, tall, dark-haired, with elegant gestures, who was at ease wherever he was.

A smile lit up Ema’s face when she saw him. The idea of sitting next to him at dinner made her feel relaxed.

You’ve already met Ema, Mihai said, as he turned to the group. She is actually in charge of our marketing events here, in Romania, he introduced her, and a wave of sympathy warmed everyone’s faces when they heard her name. They had already met her at the airport and traveled together by coach.

A few moments later, Peter Avery—the big boss and the president of the company—showed up in the lobby. He had arrived from Frankfurt the evening before and Mihai had driven him to Sinaia in the morning. Peter was an American, around fifty years of age, a man for whom discipline was an innate feature. He was robust and had a strong voice, accustomed to giving orders.

Everybody respected and appreciated him, not only on account of his age, but also for his business experience and flair. Although he was not very tall, he had an athletic build and his brown and agile eyes were always on the move.

Hello! he greeted Ema when he saw her. How was your ride?

The ride was okay! Everything is on schedule, her reply came, short and focused.

When she had to speak to him, her principal thought was that she should end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Peter scanned the faces of those present to see if anyone was late. He concealed a grin of satisfaction when he realized they were all there. His little squadron had proved to be fairly disciplined.

When he walked to the restaurant hall, the rest of the group followed suit. He stopped at the middle of the long table, set for the whole group, and pulled up a chair.

Have a seat, please! he told Ema. I want you to sit next to me this evening, so we may have time to discuss the program for tomorrow.

She bit her tongue, trying not to reveal her disappointment. Peter’s invitation to sit next to him had taken her completely by surprise. So much for the relaxing dinner! She thought, as she figured out she hadn’t quite got to the quiet part of the evening yet.

Yes, of course, she conceded, like a soldier whose only choice was to follow orders. She sat down on the chair Peter had offered her and he took the seat on her right.

Now that Peter had chosen his own seat, the rest of the group also sat down around the table, one by one.

Cheers! Ema heard a voice on her left.

It was Bruno, and she had to admit that she hadn’t even dared hope for such pleasant company. The evening was full of surprises.

Cheers! she replied, raising her glass.

A few moments later, she looked around to see if everyone had taken their seats around the table. When she glanced left, she saw Bruno’s profile and lingered for a longer moment, gazing at him. Bruno sensed he was being looked at and glanced back at her, smiling.

I was just taking a look around to ensure that everything is fine, she felt bound to explain when she met his eyes.

I have chosen a strategic seat and I feel great, he admitted, continuing to smile.

What meals have you got in store for us these few days? Peter’s voice interrupted their dialogue. So, the interrogation was just about to begin!

Luckily, in a short while, the waiters arrived with the first dish.

Hmmm, this smells good, Ema heard on her left.

But she had barely had time to give Bruno a quick smile, as she immediately heard Peter speaking again on her right.

What do we have here?

Salmon and broccoli, she hastened to reply, sacrificing the much more pleasant conversation she could have had with the young man on her left.

I realize this is broccoli, Peter grumbled. I was wondering what is next to it.

Ema has given you full details just in case broccoli looks different here than in America, Carl chimed in, chuckling.

When Peter bent over his plate, Carl winked at Ema.

That’s just Peter, he whispered to her across the table, pretending to wipe his mouth with a napkin. Relax, everything is perfect!

After dinner, the temptation to take a breath of fresh air lured most of the group onto the terrace. Although it had been a nice day, the April evening started to make its specific mountain chill felt, and as she was wearing only a thin blouse, Ema soon started to feel cold. She was well aware she could have gone to her hotel room and picked up a jacket but she had engaged in a discussion with Carl and Mihai about the next day’s program. The conference meeting was scheduled to last until early afternoon, when a visit to Peles Castle was in store, and Carl seemed to be interested in every detail.

Ema instinctively placed her hands on her forearms as she felt seized by the cold.

Why keep the girl out here, in the cold? Bruno’s voice was heard from behind.

He got closer and put his jacket on her shoulders.

Thank you, Bruno! I was really cold, but I couldn’t convince myself to go get my jacket, Ema accepted his gesture in a surprised tone.

Yes, I could see that. And I was also thinking we’d need you over the next couple of days! he smiled.

Here is a considerate man! One would probably have to be one hundred per cent Swiss for this, Carl criticized himself, surprised at Bruno’s gesture.

In fact, only half Swiss, Bruno said, smiling again.

What about the other half? Carl sounded curious.

My mother is Italian and the truth is that I feel Latin more than anything else.

In what way do you feel Latin? Ema also showed her curiosity.

When I was a student I used to play the guitar, especially Latino music. But also rock. Music made me feel at ease.

So, Bruno was half Italian, Ema said to herself. Now she could understand where his Mediterranean allure and his slightly swarthy skin came from. In addition, he was supple and well built. She remembered the tight cut of Italian clothes and realized they were designed for men like him.

When Bruno turned off the light and went to bed, although he was tired, he felt bizarrely relaxed. As if he had left all his worries back home, in Zurich. In a few minutes, he fell into a deep sleep. In his dream there was a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes, whose face was lit by a gentle smile. And the sunbeams were playfully glittering in her hair.

He let himself be carried away by this image that made his sleep so sweet.

He woke up next morning in an especially good mood and opened the window wide to breathe in the fresh mountain air. It was going to be a beautiful day.

In the afternoon, after the meeting, the group gathered in front of the hotel and set off for Peles Castle. A short walk was welcome, especially since the weather was as gorgeous as it had been the day before, when they had arrived. They took the road winding down the valley, passing on both left and right the nice villas and gardens they had seen the other day. The twenty-minute walk to the castle seemed to have taken them only seconds.

Once they had arrived on the royal domain, they entered the paved driveway leading to the castle. On the right side, the Peles brook flowed down noisily and above the driveway tree branches were stretching from one side to the other in a green bower.

They took the castle tour and the guide who invited them to follow him told them this was the favorite residence of King Carol I of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen and they were surprised to find out it was the first castle to use electricity in Europe. The guide also revealed to them how the castle had managed to outlast the communist era, since it was well known that many churches and monuments had suffered during those times. A story circulating in the 1980s said that the presidential Ceausescu couple wished to establish a protocol residence at Peles. Knowing that they used to order all kinds of demolitions and changes, the curators wanted to scare them away and told them there was a fungus inside the castle that attacked the wood and was very harmful to humans. For this reason, restoration work had begun. However, being cautious, the Ceausescu couple did not spend a single night inside the castle.

In the hotel lobby, just before dinner, Bruno noticed that Ema’s hair was freshly washed and when he came close to her, he could sense a slightly sweet fine fragrance. Although she was wearing black jeans and a comfortable blouse, she had an elegant appearance. He couldn’t tell whether the color of the blouse she was wearing was orange or some sort of pink—it seemed to be something in between. But he noticed the nice décolletage cut, highlighted by a medallion of the same color as the blouse. He was convinced that whatever she would have worn, the clothes would have fitted perfectly on her body.

He had already noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring or any other ring and he was more and more curious about what her story was.

There is a Romanian traditional dinner in store for you this evening, he heard Ema’s voice. The coach is waiting for us in front of the hotel to take us to the restaurant she said, and the group set off to the coach.

Girls and boys wearing Romanian traditional costumes were waiting for them at the entrance to the restaurant, offering them tuica, the national brandy, while party music could be heard from inside.

Don’t let yourselves be tricked by the size of the glasses! Mihai cautioned them. "Tuica is very strong."

Though warned, the bravest of them drank up the brandy from the small glasses, slightly larger than thimbles, and afterwards they couldn’t help grimacing as they felt their insides burning.

Bruno pulled up one of the carved wooden chairs, put his jacket on it and then sat down on the next chair, watching the group take their seats around the table. Two seats were still vacant next to him, on his right side. In fact, he had laid his jacket on the chair next to him on purpose to give the impression it was already taken.

Do you mind if we sit here? he heard Carl’s voice.

Of course not, he replied, before turning around to see who accompanied Carl. Sorry, this is my jacket! he said, grabbing it. I have switched seats and forgotten to also take my coat, he justified himself.

The next moment, Ema took the seat next to him and Carl took the other seat left.

It’s nice of you that you don’t mind. But the correct answer was that you have kept these seats especially for us, Carl joked, without knowing how close he was to the truth.

Thank you! Ema smiled when Bruno pulled his chair away to make room for her.

The truth was that, as his colleagues sat around the table, he had been assessing in his mind the remaining available seats, hoping that those farthest away from him would be taken first. He knew that, as she was in charge of the organization, Ema would be the last one to sit down, after making sure that everything was in order. And he hoped that the seat he put his jacket on would remain vacant for her.

Congratulations on your presentation this morning! she remembered to say. I liked the idea that opportunities often arise even within problems. As you said, the real challenge becomes addressing the issue in such way as to allow one to find a solution, she said, nodding slightly to confirm she agreed with him.

He smiled at her gratefully. He knew the idea was not new but he enjoyed the compliment even more as he had also come to admire her in such a short while. Their fingers touched slightly when she passed him the salt and Ema caught a glimpse of the smile on his face. They chatted lightly all evening and she offered to teach him how to spell sarmale, the tasty food on their plates which he enjoyed very much.

While she was absent having a few words with Mihai, and Bruno was left alone, his ex-wife, Erika, showed up in his thoughts. They had got married when he was twenty eight.

He’d thought he was ready to take the step, but soon learned that sharing life with someone else was not easy. His career was the only thing on his mind and his only concern was building a successful future.

They had been married for six years, but in time their sense of connection weakened and they became more and more like strangers. When Erika asked him for a divorce, he didn’t even know whether he had lost something or not.

He admitted it was his fault that the relationship between the two of them had cooled off. Erika had felt neglected and he knew she was right. He used to travel a lot for business and sometimes wouldn’t call her for days. Then he would explain to her that he had been very busy. In fact, he could have found a few minutes to call her, but the truth was his mind was busy with other thoughts that drained all his resources. He would simply forget about her.

That they did not have any children was based on an unspoken agreement. He was aware he had no time to take care of children and Erika would have wanted to raise them together with their father, not by herself. Obviously, he couldn’t blame her for this.

Bruno had dedicated the two years that had lapsed since the divorce to his career. He preferred working all day long so he wouldn’t have time to get bored or think of any other desires. But lately, he had been asking himself more and more often what was the purpose of his hard work. He was thirty-six, earning good money, had a good position in a reputable company, but he had very little time for himself.

He felt as if he had managed to drive a luxury car, but he was the only passenger. There was nobody next to him to share the joy and the pleasure of getting somewhere with. For in his life’s journey, the seat beside him was vacant.

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