Strangers: A Novel

“What?” I sit up with a jerk. “That means we’ve slept for seven hours.”

“Yeah. Guess we needed it. And I probably would have kept sleeping if they hadn’t woken me up. My father’s plane is just landing.”

There it is again, the feeling of being a stranger. Very soon I’m going to be sitting inside the private jet of a man I don’t know in the slightest. A billionaire. Who is also Joanna’s father. How’s he going to respond to me, I wonder?

“There they are,” Joanna says. She’s in front of the glass window that offers a view of the airfield. I walk over to her and behold the sleek, white aircraft that’s just reached its allocated space on the tarmac and is coming to a standstill.

“Well then…” I can’t think of anything else to say right now.

Ten minutes later, an airport staff member approaches us. Accompanying him are two men who’d look like regular, athletic businessmen if it weren’t for the short hair and the serious expression both are wearing on their faces.

“Gavin,” Joanna says, sighing, the relief audible in her voice. “If you only knew how glad I am that you’re here,” she continues in English.

The man nods at her, without so much as a glance at me. “Our flight conditions were ideal. We’ll take off again in two hours.”

“Good. By the way, this is Erik, my fiancé. My father told you he’d be accompanying us.”

The two dark eyes focus on me, seem to bore into me for a brief moment, then look away again.

“No, Joanna. Your father specifically said: not him.”





39

At first I think I must have misheard. Gavin is standing there in that relaxed way of his; his eyes are friendly, but he’s not fooling me with that. Sure, he’d take a bullet for me, but there was no way I could talk him into doing something that contradicts my father’s orders.

OK. I’ll get this cleared up right away.

“I spoke to Dad on the phone yesterday, and again a few hours ago—it’s already been decided that Erik is coming with me. You’ve misunderstood.”

Not a muscle twitches in Gavin’s face, but there’s something not unlike sympathy in his expression. “I’m certain that I haven’t. We have instructions to bring you home, just you. No matter what the circumstances.”

Gavin has been working for my family since I was fourteen. He was there on all of our vacations—and on most of my dates. One of two silent shadows sitting at the table next to me, keeping an eye on the entrance of the restaurant while I would hold hands with my respective companion. I never managed, not one time, to convince Gavin to give me some privacy for even half an hour.

Although that was a long time ago.

I take Erik’s hand. “He’s coming with me. I’ll be responsible for him.”

A soft, barely visible shake of the head. “Sorry as I am to say it, Joanna, you won’t be responsible. And it’s not your decision.”

Despite Gavin’s Australian twang, Erik can understand every word, there’s no question of that. It only takes one glance at him to see that he understands exactly what’s going on here. I squeeze his hand tighter.

“I’m calling Dad,” I say to Gavin, and hope he can hear from the tone of my voice that his job will be on the line. “Hopefully that will clear things up. If I can’t reach him, it’s my orders that count, not his. And certainly not what you understand them to be.”

I let go of Erik’s hand and take a few steps to the side. It takes a few seconds before the call goes through. As I press the phone to my ear and listen to the dial tone, I try to get my unbridled rage under control, otherwise I won’t hit the right note with Dad. I’m half expecting him not to answer—he’s organized everything; now it’s up to his subordinates, and it’ll all run like clockwork. Like always.

But he picks up after the third ring.

“Hello, Jo.” His voice doesn’t sound drowsy in the least. He was awake. Maybe he was even waiting for me to call. I grip my phone tighter.

“Hi, Dad. I’m at the airport already.”

“Yes, I know. And the plane is there already as well, I just got word from the pilot.”

Right, deep breath. “OK. Listen, Dad, there’s clearly been a misunderstanding. Gavin is refusing to take Erik on board, even though I told him several times that you and I agreed on it. Could you please tell him that he has to follow my instructions?”

From the corner of my eye I can see Erik turning away. If it’s true what he says, and he has known me for almost a year—he properly hasn’t seen this side of me. He’ll probably like it just as little as I do, but that doesn’t matter right now.

My father hasn’t responded yet, only cleared his throat. That’s not a good sign.

“No, no, that’s all correct,” he says now.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Jo. We can always bring this Erik over later if we really have to. But for now, just you come home. Alone. I want to speak to you in private.”

I try to stop myself from the yelling on the phone. “We have a deal. I’m expecting you to keep it.”

No, that wasn’t a good move. It would have been smarter to play the daughter he’d like to have: obedient, full of admiration for her daddy, and possibly not bright enough to have a will of her own.

“We did indeed have a deal.” All trace of fatherly understanding has disappeared from his voice. “That you’re allowed to have your fun in Europe and none of us would ask you any questions. That you would marry Matthew as soon as you got back. And yesterday you suddenly tell me about some fiancé? Who you want to bring with you?” He bursts out laughing, only to shout even more angrily into the phone afterward, “Forget it, Jo. You reneged on your side of the deal, and I’m not going to keep my side of it. You’re flying home now, and if Gavin even thinks about letting your lover on board, then God help him.”

I close my eyes for a moment. I can no longer feel the burning rage inside me, just cold. And an intense clarity.

“You lied to me. On purpose. Yesterday and now again today.”

He laughs again. “Don’t try to make me feel guilty. It won’t work. Unfortunately you still don’t know what’s good for you, and so you just have to rely on the people who are better able to judge.”

I still don’t feel any rage, despite what he just said. But the fear is coming back with a vengeance. The realization that it’s not yet over.

“Have a nice life, Dad.”

I hear him gasp for air. He understands, of course, he knows me. “You’re flying home, just so that’s clear. Don’t even think about putting up a fight, I’ll block all your accounts, and if it’s necessary Gavin will just have to force you onto that damn plane—”

I hang up. See Gavin shrugging in commiseration. I told you, didn’t I?

It will be just a matter of seconds until his phone rings and Dad gives him new instructions. We need all the head start we can get. Once Gavin’s on the phone, he’ll be distracted. That’s our only chance, and even that’s just a tiny one.

I nod to him. “You were right. He tricked me.”

Ursula Archer & Arno Strobel's books