Kim - Can it get any worse? Of course!

By Mona Lida

Actually, she only wanted to have a million euros – but then two Mr. Rights were lying at her feet.
Kim Ritter is a successful marketing assistant at a Stuttgart energy company and one thing she knows for sure: she wants to become rich as fast as possible. But then a Mr. Right would also be nothing to be scoffed at. When she meets Marlon Braun, CEO of a Stuttgart bank, her wish seems to come true…but then all hell breaks loose in her life and a dead body in her living room is the smallest of her problems….

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Jun 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9783736858497

Book preview

Prologue

Since my tenth birthday, I knew what I wanted to become: rich! As rich as Scrooge McDuck. He was my role model. Well, he’s male, and well, he’s old. But still the wealthiest man in the world. Okay, the wealthiest duck in the world, but who’s picky, right?

Chapter One – Maurice

I let myself drop down into the designer chair. Bad mistake, as the chair was extremely uncomfortable. I hit my left shoulder so hard that I cried out and a few teardrops ran down my cheeks. Guy, my best friend, looked me over closely. I knew exactly what he was thinking: Those tears had been there before – as my ruined make-up clearly indicated. I am very fastidious when it comes to hair-do, make-up, and nails. Thanks to Marilyn who always made sure that I never forget to pay close attention to these things. I always do, except when I´m in misery.

I presented my hands to Guy. It’s just so awful!, I wailed.

Guy looked at them and agreed, You're absolutely right, sweetie, you’ve got a split nail and the polish chipped off.

Really? I looked closer at my fingernails. Oh, that´s awful! What a luck, that I was able to get an appointment with you so quickly.

Guy was the most popular nail designer in town. In order to get an appointment you had to call in months in advance. That I was able to call and get in right away was due to two facts: First, Guy and I were best buddies for over a year now, secondly, he knew I would only come in on short notice when there was an emergency.

He understood I was in dire need for his expertise – his excellent listening skills as well as his nail art. Grief and despair were best overcome with perfectly shaped and artistically polished nails. I thought again at the reason for this sudden need for an appointment. My hands trembled and my voice quivered.

You’re not going to believe it!

What exactly, honey? Spill the beans.

Fred has left me.

Fred is an idiot!

I sighed.

Well, thanks, but he’s the third guy who walked out on me this year! It has to be me.

Guy shot me a strange look, raised en eyebrow, and shook his head.

Maybe you’re just looking for the wrong type of man.

Now it was my turn to shake my head.

Fred is CMO – Chief Marketing Officer at Drofano! I have learned so much from him. Just think of his pointer regarding Grannaforce shares! I made a good thousand Euros! But seriously, it wasn’t all that bad. Fred was good in bed and Maurice the prettiest cat on earth!

Again some tears trickled down my cheeks.

Oh dear, Maurice....

What’s the deal with this cat, Maurice?

I fell in love with Maurice and now I won’t ever see him again.

It sounds to me that you’re missing the cat more than Fred.

Fred and Maurice, they’re one, they belong together.

Then I’m glad I don’t have a cat!

Well. I can't have you anyway.

I sighed. The perfect man was sitting right in front of me and he had to be gay. I looked at him closely. Oh yes, he was way too good looking and neat. Besides, only two weeks ago I saw him downtown walking hand-in-hand with a man. Well, I didn't wear my glasses that day, but I'm pretty sure it was him. The way he was walking and moving, so very typically for Guy, it must've been him!

Guy smiled lazily, Yeah, that's true.

I sniffled one more time and looked thankfully up at him.

"It’s good to have a best male friend I can go to when I forswear all men.

Guy looked at me, thoughtfully.

I can’t imagine you in a world without men since so many of them swarm around you!

My mood uplifted, I grinned.

Since there are hardly any women working in the marketing department, I’m doomed to become weak again and fall for another man. I just can’t say no to a hot looking dude able to help me climb the ladder to success!

Guy stared at me for a long while. Then he concentrated again on my split nail.

Are you at least a little bit angry at Fred?

I gave that a brief thought.

I suppose at the moment I’m only sad. But then, as I read in a magazine the other day, anger follows sadness.

In that case, let’s hope that you don’t ruin any more nails when you’re angry!

Guy Manilo, which was his actual name as well as his name as an artist, was a professional nail designer. In all of Ludwigsburg, one couldn’t find a better nail artist then him. Out of an unassuming pink nail he could create a masterpiece, always perfectly matched to its wearer. His choice of profession became apparent early on during his childhood. He had looked at the nails of his family and friends and dreamed of means and ways to beautify them with polish and tinsel. He told me once that thanks to his very tolerant mother and her nail polish he was able to experiment with nail designs. He invested his pocket money not in Playboys (this in itself made it clear how unavailable for me he was) but in anything to do with nail improvements. I was sure that all the girls had loved him. He didn’t come on to them and he improved their nails for free and with enthusiasm.

Very quickly, he had advanced his career and became famous. With only sixteen he opened up his first shop, but because he was not of age then, it was in his mother’s name. And the clients were crazy for him. Guy just had to look at a woman, make chitchat, inspect her nails, and he knew intuitively what nail type this particular woman was. Be it extravagant, alternative, modest, conservative – for each type, he had a personalized solution. During my many visits I had watched him create the most dazzling pieces of art, many of which on my own fingernails! We’ve known each other for a year now. When I first walked into his studio, he was twenty-eight, me twenty-four. It was almost a repeat of today, me with a tear-streaked ruined make-up, showing him my nails, and a similar man story. Since then he witnessed several relationships gone awol. But this time it was worse. I had never been in tears over a cat before – the case was hopeless.

Kim, are you up for lunch?

I glanced at him, and asked, Do you have time? Usually you’re up to your ears in appointments!

Well, it is my lunch break and I’m hungry, he smiled. Besides, I just cannot abide the idea of letting you walk out of my shop with a heavy heart. Can the work on your nails wait a bit?

Let’s go.

My best friend was going to spend his lunch break with me to make me feel better! Keep a good thing if you have found one, I said to myself. Nail damage and a broken heart were forgotten. Lunch was on!

How about we go to Storks? They have the best pasta this town has to offer. Aglio e olio, or all'arabiata, huge portions, and....

Stop it, my stomach’s growling, Guy was laughing.

And it’s affordable during lunch hour, I added.

Storks was owned by a sturdy guy called, incidentally, Storks. For many years now, he was cooking Italian dishes – and he wasn’t even Italian! He just read up on them in cookbooks. His talent was extraordinary. His dishes couldn’t have been more Italian. The tomato sauce simmered with celery and carrots over low heat for at least ten hours at a time, and the noodles were perfectly ‘al dente.’ All of his customers praised his dishes. His restaurant was always full to capacity, but Storks had a big heart. There was no such thing as a problem, and if there was no free table in the dining area, he would let you dine in the kitchen. Guests were sworn to secrecy.

Don’t tell anyone, otherwise I am in big trouble.

Nobody would have breathed a word since everybody loved Storks.

Outside of Storks we made ourselves comfortable in a sunny spot. Each of us sat on a small cushion (even the kitchen had no seats available), balancing a full plate of penne all'arabiata, and munching away vigorously. The combination of Guy’s company and good food worked to dispel my misery. I found myself gradually leaving the sadness state and entering the anger state. Using my fork like a regular sword buckler, I exclaimed, Just you wait and see, Fred!

A full stomach works wonders, right, Kim? Guy said and added, How about a night on the town, like, say, going to the movies?

We often went out together: to the movies, theater, museums, and the Ballet. We watched romantic, funny, or action movies, Oscar Wilde on stage, Shakespearean plays – our interests varied. Guy was Beethoven and I more like The Three Stooges.

That sounds great, but let’s do something tomorrow evening. Tonight, I have plans.

That’s fine!

Chapter Two – Beautiful Maurice

The next day we met in front of the Poseidon, the largest movie theater in Ludwigsburg. We bought our tickets and while we were buying popcorn, Guy noticed how happy I looked.

Why so cheerful?

I laughed, That’s because I had myself an adventure yesterday.

Don’t tell me that there is already a new man in your life? Guy sounded aghast.

No, of course not, I said indignantly. I don’t fall in love that fast!

Inwardly, Guy swiped his forehead.

Okay, you got me curious. What kind of adventure?

With a big grin on my face I answered, I saw Maurice again.

The cat?

Of course! Maurice, the cat!

So?

I took the liberty and borrowed him. I took the dear thing to the pet beautician.

You did what!?

I felt sorry for the poor thing with its boring ‘fur-do.’ So I let him have a perm. Quite an expensive one, mind you.

A perm? Guy was stunned.

Yes, it looks good on him. And who says Persians cannot have curls?

Well, I guess so.

And his new fur color looks nicer as well. Who wants to be the every-day-gray when one can be blue?

Guy gulped before he groaned, Blue!

Yup, blue! If possible, I grinned wider.

Azure-blue. You should see him. He is the most adorable and beautiful cat ever. And that means something, as he was already beautiful. The new ‘look’ only improved him.

Azure-blue!

Hey, Guy, what’s wrong with you? You keep repeating everything I say!

Guy gulped again and made a show of watching intently the ad on the screen. Then he turned to me and asked, And what about Fred?

Oh, he’s the same as always. Although I would have liked to see his face when he saw the new and improved Maurice – and the bill for the perm. It’s his cat, after all!

I hope we never become enemies!

I sidled up to Guy and smiled warmly up at him.

You are my best friend ever, now and forever! My lovers might walk out on me, but you, you stay.

Guy sighed quietly, Yes, I stay.

Chapter Three – Marilyn

Already in my PJs, I sat on the combination sofa/bed in my miniscule one-room-apartment. Everything was small: the kitchen, the bathroom, the main room; but the rent was affordable. I pushed number ‘1’ on my speed dial, calling up Marilyn Staufer. Marilyn’s my world’s best girlfriend ever since we were little girls. After only five seconds she picked up.

Do you have a minute? I asked before she even could say Hello.

Actually, I can give you half an hour. Then I have to leave. What’s up?

Short and to the point, I related my news. Time was money and we only had half an hour. Besides which, we knew each other for so long that sprawling explanations were futile. Our friendship was as close as ever, even though 130 kilometers separated us. Marilyn had stayed in Wuerzburg, our hometown, while I had moved close to Stuttgart in order to work in the marketing department of a large energy company. It was a stepping-stone professionally speaking and an opportunity for success I couldn’t have passed up at the time.

Marilyn laughed, Oh, Kim, what I wouldn’t give to see Maurice!

I thought you might and thanks to my foresight I can provide you with a wonderful picture. I’ll mail it to you right away.

I bet you have about a dozen pictures of Maurice but none of Fred.

Wrong, I have about a hundred pictures of Maurice but none of Fred.

I paused for a moment and reflected.

You know what? I actually liked the cat more than the man.

You don’t say! So far, have you ever truly loved any of the men in your life? Do you have just one picture of any one of them?

I sighed, You know me too well. You’re right; I don’t have any picture of any of the men of my past. What do you think, should I enter into a relationship with a cat?

Kim, a cat takes time and money to keep!

I laid myself down on my bed. Why do you think I don’t own one? I neither have the time nor the money to spare on a pet.

Well, right now you don’t.

Well, at least not until I made my first million!

Do as I do – try hooking up with a millionaire.

I grinned, Let’s wait and see which one of us reaches her goal first. Do you have a new millionaire-candidate on the line?

Marilyn was a true replica of her namesake: hourglass figure, slender waist, blond hair, pert nose; in short, a man’s wet dream come to life. Our mutual bond was formed early on in childhood when we noticed that we both had the same dream and goal in life: to get rich. Only the means to get what we wanted differed. I tried my luck on my first million by working hard and economizing uncompromisingly. Marilyn on the other hand was forever trying to catch and marry a wealthy man. Even as teenagers our different methods were evident. I invested every euro I earned, took on every imaginable teenager job available (collecting trash, working on factory lines – as long as the dough rolled), and followed diligently the rise and fall of the stock market. Marilyn? She invested every cent she had in her body: nail polish, cosmetics, designer clothes, and fitness-studios. While she perfected the look, the pout, and her flirt technique, I increased my knowledge of economics. We made a perfect team: Marilyn made sure I knew how to put on a striking but still modest make-up, kept me informed on the latest fashion and before there was Guy, she even took care of my nails. On the business side of things, I briefed her on the best investment possibilities on the stock market.

Marilyn laughed out loud in answer to my question.

In fact, I do have a new prospect in sight. He has a doctorate in physics, is worth about two millions and to top it off, he’s tall and sexy.

Only two millions? That’s not much.

"That’s a