The private jet is smaller than I expected but luxurious in the way only unlimited funds can buy. Cream leather seats, polished wood paneling, and a bar stocked with bottles.
Alaric spreads files across the table between us as we taxi down the runway. “The lead investor is German. Klaus Mueller. He speaks English but prefers his native language for complex negotiations.”
“You want me to translate.”
“I want you to facilitate. There’s a difference.”
As we climb into the sky, I watch him work. He’s completely in his element here, reviewing profit projections and market analyses.
The way he moves his hands when he talks, the slight crease between his eyebrows when he concentrates…it’s all surprisingly attractive.
“Stop staring,” he says without looking up.
“I’m not staring.”
“You are. And it’s distracting.”
“Maybeyoushould be less distracting.”
He glances up at that, and the look he gives me makes heat pool low in my belly. For a moment, the air between us crackles with the same tension that’s been building since our interrupted encounter in his office.
Then he returns to his files, and I force myself to focus on the business at hand.
The meeting takes place in a glass conference room overlooking downtown Philadelphia. Klaus Mueller is exactly what I expected. He’s tall, precise, with the kind of bearing that suggests old money and older traditions. His associates are equally polished, speaking rapid German among themselves before we arrive.
“Mr. Moretti,” Klaus says in accented English as we enter. “A pleasure to finally meet in person.”
“Likewise. This is my wife, Kasimira.”
Klaus’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Your wife? I was not aware you had married.”
“Recently,” I say in fluent German. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. Mueller.”
The change in Klaus’s demeanor is immediate. His formal politeness transforms into genuine warmth as he responds in his native language, complimenting my pronunciation and asking about my background.
Within minutes, I’m stimulating a conversation that would have taken hours in broken English. Klaus explains his concerns about zoning regulations, and I translate not just his words but the cultural context behind them. When he mentions previous partnerships that failed due to miscommunication, I help bridge the gap between German directness and American optimism.
“The initial investment would be twenty-five million,” Alaric says during a lull in conversation.
Klaus winces when I translate the number. “Perhaps we could discuss a more gradual approach?”
I don’t just translate his response—I explain to Alaric that Germans prefer conservative business practices, that Klaus needs to see smaller successes before committing to larger investments.
“What would you suggest?” Alaric asks Klaus directly.
“Perhaps five stores initially. Prove the model works before expanding.”
I watch Alaric calculate, seeing the exact moment he decides to compromise. “Ten stores. Five in Pennsylvania, five in New Jersey. We’ll evaluate results after six months before discussing further expansion.”
When I translate this offer, Klaus’s face lights up. The negotiation continues for another hour, but the foundation is solid.
By the time we shake hands, we’ve brokered a twelve-million-dollar deal that will open ten convenience stores and employ over a hundred people.
“Remarkable,” Klaus tells me in German as we prepare to leave. “Your husband is fortunate to have such a talented partner.”
“Thank you.”
“I look forward to working with both of you.”
